Trevor had always dreamed of things that he’d say to his brother if he could see him again. It always ranged somewhere from ‘please promise you’ll never ever leave again’ to ‘i’m so happy you’re here i’m so lost and i don’t know what to do.’
In reality all Trevor can do is stare.
“I know it’s a surprise,” James says, it couldn’t not be James. The blue eyes, the nose he’d inherited from their father, the way his hands are nervously wringing the Vagabond’s skull mask. His voice is deeper than he remembers and his blonde hair has been dyed black but Trevor remembers his big brother like the back of his hand. “I was going to come back.”
‘When,’ Trevor wants to demand but his vocal cords have decided to stop working. He just stares at him instead until finally the reality of the situation hits him full force in the chest.
Then he does what he had wanted to since he was 16 and lost and got caught in a nightmare of a crew for fucking years.
He rears back and he punches James right in the mouth.
“Ow, Trevor, what the fuck,” James gasps as he bends over in pain. Several guns click off from safety but Trevor could honestly give less than a fuck.
“Reach? What the fuck?” Jeremy yells down from the railing. He sounds terrified in a way that finally blunts the blinding edge of his anger. "You can't just punch the Vagabond."
“I can and I will!” Trevor shouts back before stalking forward towards his brother. “What the fuck James?”
“James?” Ramsey mutters incredulously.“Fucking James?”
Trevor hesitates for just a second as fear wells up in chest that he just outed his brother before he forces it down.
James dances back towards the wall, still clutching his nose. “I actually go by Ryan now,” he says apologetically.
“Oh wonderful,” Trevor’s voice cracks slightly and just like that the anger in his chest splits open and there’s an ache behind his eyes that he’s doing his best to ignore. “Well doesn’t that just make everything better.”
“Trevor-” James starts.
“No, I’m leaving.” Trevor says, he needs to leave before he does something worse than punching James. He turns towards the back and glares at Free and Pattillo until they move aside for him. “Jeremy! Matt! We’re going!”
“Trevor, please I just wanna talk.”
“Little late for that one, Ryan,” Trevor calls back, mock-cheerfully. “Next time try a little harder.”
He slams the door shut with a reverberating bang.
The door opens behind him a second later.
“Hey, what the actual fuck,” Matt hisses. He grabs Trevor’s shoulder and it takes every inch of his willpower not to send Matt to the ground. “Are you okay? Why'd you just punch the Vagabond?”
“He’s-,” Trevor starts to say, there’s a burning behind his eyes that won’t go away no matter how hard he presses on his eyelids. “Please, can we just go.”
There’s silence for a minute. “Is he… one of them?” Matt asks carefully and Trevor is caught between horror and bizarre amusement. The idea of his brother in a crew like Trevor had been is both horrifying and so out of the world that the image doesn’t even compute in Trevor’s brain.
“No, no.” Trevor barks a laugh that sounds too close to a sob for his comfort. “No, I just- can we please leave.”
There’s the light sound of somebody dropping down from the fire escape to land next to them.
“You just punched the Vagabond,” Jeremy hisses, his hand snags around Trevor’s elbow. “What are we doing fucking standing here? We need to leave.”
Thank God one of them is being reasonable.
“Yeah, okay,” Matt agrees, shooting a worried look Trevor’s way. “Let’s go.”
They make their way towards Jeremy’s black truck before Trevor hears the door slam open again.
“Hey!” James calls out and all three of them walk faster towards the truck. If they can get there before he jogs up to them then Trevor can pretend that this never happened. “Trevor, wait! Come on, please.”
It’s the damn please that slows Trevor down just enough for James to catch up with them.
“What?” Trevor snaps, frustrated and tired to the bone. Jeremy still has one hand on his arm like he’s ready to yank Trevor behind him at the slightest provocation. “Goddamn it, can’t you leave shit alone, Ryan.”
“No,” James replies bluntly, before his face softens. “Listen, can’t you just please leave me a way to talk to you.”
Trevor stares at him before barking out an incredulous laugh. “My email is email@example.com if that’s what you mean?”
James’s face falls. “Listen, Trevor. I’m sorry. C’mon, I’ve missed you.”
“Well, doesn’t that make just one of us?” Trevor lies ruthlessly. James raises an eyebrow, and fuck, he always could tell when Trevor was lying.
It makes him uneasy that James knows him so well after so long when Trevor could barely even recognize him. Is Trevor forever doomed to be that lost little kid that had sobbed for hours when his brother left?
“Here,” James says, he pulls a business card and a pen out of his jacket pocket. He scribbles down numbers and holds it out. Trevor stares at it. “Listen, if you never talk to me again, fine. But I at least want you to have the option this time.”
Trevor reluctantly takes the card.
“Well, we’ve got to get going,” Matt says. “Let’s go, guys. Important people to see and important places to meet.”
James’ lips twitch in amusement before he turns around and starts walking towards the door. Jeremy all but shoves Trevor into the car.
“Come on, come on,” he mutters while Trevor throws himself in the back.
They pull out of the dilapidated parking lot right as the Fakes start pouring out the building. Trevor lets out a long sigh of relief.
“So...” Jeremy clears his throat. “Ex of yours?”
Trevor laughs bitterly. “No, that’s my brother.”
Jeremy swerves into oncoming traffic before wrenching back as several cars blare their horns. His wide brown eyes meet Trevor’s in the mirror. “You have a fucking brother?” he demands.
“Okay,” Matt interrupts, “even more pressing question. Your brother is the Vagabond?”
“Apparently,” Trevor mutters. He buries his face in his hands. “Dear God, my brother is the Vagabond.”
They get home to their shitty shared apartment in the lower part of Los Santos in record time.
“Okay,” Jeremy says, from where they’re all sitting in the kitchen that’s only a kitchen in name. “I get that you don’t like talking about it, but. I’m not gonna lie, I’m really confused.”
“Ditto,” Matt chimes in, grabbing them all sodas from the mini-fridge. “Like, you’re entitled to your privacy, sure, but this is a huge fucking bombshell.”
Trevor takes a long sip from his soda to try and buy himself some time.
The other two level him with unimpressed looks as he finishes the whole thing. Trevor breathes in deep as he wrings the business cards relentlessly between his fingers.
“It’s complicated,” he starts off with a faint smile and the other two snort a surprised laugh. It loosens a knot in his chest that he hadn’t even noticed. “Me and James... well, Ryan now I guess. Ryan was well, he was everything I wanted to be when I was little. Big, strong, tall. Loud enough to get people’s attention but polite enough to not get hit for it. Straight A student, talked all the time about going into the Arts. He would’ve been the golden child for the Foster Care system if he could've learned how to stop fighting everything.”
He swallows heavily. “Then there was me,” he tries to joke. It falls flat but he soldiers on as he avoids Matt and Jeremy’s gaze. “I was small and scrawny and I had no idea how to keep my mouth shut then.”
“Too smart for your own good?” Matt guesses, protective anger coloring the edge of his words.
“Too mouthy for my own good,” Trevor corrects. “Jamie was my protector back then, if somebody was going to pick on me then he’d stop them. He was pretty much everything that you want from a big brother. Then one day I get home from school and there’s my foster father screaming and yelling at my foster mom and it turns out that him and Jamie got into a fight and Jamie ran away.”
His voice drops into a whisper. “I waited for days for him to come back. I hid when the social worker came to find me. I thought-” his voice breaks. “I thought for sure he’d come back and get me.”
The ‘and then he never did’ is just a little bit too pathetic to say even in front of his boyfriends and he just keeps staring at the scratched surface of their fourth-hand wooden table.
“Well, I don’t know about Matt,” Jeremy says hand covering his,"But I really don't fucking like this guy."
Trevor chokes on a laugh.
“Yeah,” Matt agrees amicably, “He can go fuck himself.”
The room falls into a comfortable silence.
“I’m sorry about the whole,” Trevor says, after a few seconds of listening to police sirens and traffic, and waves his hand around him in a vague gesture. “Ruining the deal.”
Matt shrugs. “We can find somebody else.”
It’s a huge fucking lie. The Fakes agreeing to a deal with them is the biggest hit that they’ve had in their collective careers and all three of them had worked their asses off to get their attention.
Trevor hums before sighing. “Can we go to bed? ” he asks. Jeremy and Matt both jump up, their chairs screeching over the floor. Trevor is too grateful to say anything.
They spend the rest of the day lounging around on their bed just talking and relaxing and Trevor drops the stupid business card in the bedside table and resolves himself to never think off it again. It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.
Chapter 2: Chapter Two
Thank you all very much for your kind comments on the last chapter! I hope that you all enjoy this new chapter! :D
Trevor doesn’t know how their latest job went south so fast.
It had seemed like such a easy job at first. A quick get in, get some information, and then a quick get out.
Then once they had gotten to the coordinates they had been given. The three of them had realized that it would be nothing like an easy job. The guards standing at every entrance into the building with attack dogs at their side was the first clue. Then it had gotten worse until finally Matt got caught in their make shift communication center and Jeremy got caught in their efforts to save him.
Trevor had cut and run like a coward back to their shared apartment to lick his wounds and try to come up with a plan to save his boyfriends . So far he's been drawing a blank as he paces his way around the small living room.
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” he yells before letting out a small scream of pain when he kicks the wall.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU GODDAMN RABBITS!” A shrill voice shrieks back.
Trevor thinks about shouting back but instead throws himself onto the couch.
He has to think of a plan but all he can think about is the fact that Jeremy and Matt could already be dead. They could be dead and all Trevor is doing to try and help is sitting on their fucking couch failing to think of a plan. His foot taps onto the stained carpet as he searches the apartment desperately to try and find some kind of clue to help him.
His eyes fall on the bed side table and before he even thinks Trevor is standing there with his hand reaching out towards the drawer before he catches himself . He debates for just a split second if calling his brother is actually a good idea when he becomes angry with himself .
Jeremy and Matt are worth ten thousands times more than Trevor discomfort with James.
The phone rings one, twice, three times as Trevor's heart sinks lower and lower. He's just about hang up when finally the line clicks.
“Who is this?” James demands
“It’s Trevor. I-” he takes a deep shuddering breath. “I need help. Please.”
“Where are you?” James asks, sounding alarmed, and Trevor sobs out a laugh.
“At home- but that’s not-”
“I’ll be right there,” James promises before hanging up.
It takes a few seconds before Trevor realizes that that means that James already knows where his apartment is . He stares suspiciously at his phone as he swipes impatiently at his wet eyes before moving back to the couch to wait for James . It feels like it takes forever but every time he glances down at his phone it seems like only seconds have passed.
He still doesn’t have a plan.
Then after an eternity there's the sound of a car squealing into the parking lot. Trevor shakes his head, James hasn’t lost his flair for the dramatic apparently .
It's another minute before the front door bangs open to reveal the Vagabond with his gun drawn.
“You didn't just walk through my apartment building openly carrying a gun,” Trevor states in disbelief .
James stares at him for a second before shrugging. “You haven't been held hostage?” he double-checks.
Trevor shakes his head. “No,” he says, leaning forward urgently . “But, my b- crew. The two guys who were with me last time- They've been kidnapped . We have to get them back.”
“Alright,” James says after a short pause, “Slow down. What’s going on?”
“My crew,” Trevor repeats impatiently , standing up from the couch and starting to pace. “Je- Rimmy Tim and Axial. They’ve been taken and I don’t know where or by who or-” He whirls around, hands running through his hair. He can feel James’ stare boring a hole in the side of his head.
“I need them,” Trevor implores, glancing at James nervously . “Please.”
“Okay,” James says softly , like it might be that easy. “Let's go talk with my crew. We’ll get this figured out.”
Trevor nods, grabbing Jeremy’s cowboy hat and Matt’s jacket with a desperation that he's determined not to be ashamed off . James raises an eyebrow at him but just leads him to the sleek black car that would've already been stolen if it wasn't for the obnoxious Fakes symbol resting on the window.
They get to one of the Fakes’ safehouses after a silent car ride, with Trevor clinging to Matt’s jacket and Jeremy’s hat while James keeps shooting him sideways looks .
“Come on,” James says, his hand hovering over Trevor’s shoulder. “The others are waiting.”
“Do they even remember me?” Trevor asks as they start towards the door. James' hand falls back down to his side. “It’s been months since we met for that deal.”
James chuckles. “I don’t think you have to worry about them forgetting you. It’s not often that people get to punch me and live.” He walks up the steps and bangs loudly on the door in a two-three-one pattern. The door opens a few seconds later to reveal Jones.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he demands, scowling. “We-”
He freezes as he zones in on Trevor who raises a hand in greeting. “Why the fuck is he here?” Jones asks.
“Oh you know I was in the neighborhood and just decided to drop by,” Trevor greets him cheerfully . “Lovely place you’ve got here by the way.”
He lets his eyes roam over the peeling paint, the overgrown weeds, and the fact that the house next door has to be a drug den. Jones frowns at him before looking at Jamie who shrugs. Jones’ frown darkens and he throws his hands in the air. “Fine, fucking come on in.”
He stalks his way back into the house, Jamie and Trevor following him towards the loud voices in the kitchen. “Vagabond’s back!” he calls and the voices all stop before they get close enough to tell what they’re saying. Seconds later Jones pushes the door open into a small kitchen where there are four people sitting in various states of undress or wearing pj’s . Ramsey is in polka dotted underwear and an apron making pancakes for some reason.
‘Oh yeah,’ Trevor realizes, after a moment of severe confusion. ‘It’s only six am.’
“Ryan! What-” Several voices call out before pausing when James moves towards the table revealing Trevor to the rest of the room . There’s an awkward pause as they stare at each other.
“Okay,” Brownman drawls, clearing his throat. “Is that the same dude who punched you months ago?”
“It’s always nice to be recognized for my accomplishments.” Trevor agrees, leaning against the doorframe.
Brownman gives him a blank piercing stare but before the silence can grow awkward Patillo throws back all of his coffee and then points at Trevor .
“Why is the same dude who punched you months ago in our safehouse?” he asks.
“His crew got kidnapped so we're helping him out,” Jamie explains nonchalantly , like he regularly helps out people with their kidnapped loved ones . Trevor is willing to bet everything he owns that he's the first.
Judging by the Fakes’ incredulous stares, Trevor's guessing he's right.
“Okay,” Free starts clapping his hands together from where's sitting on one of the kitchen counters . “Vagabond is obviously being a mingy little mingepot so we're just going to have to guess.”
“Betrayed friend,” Browman guesses. Trevor knows he sees the flinch that rips through the two of them.
“A bitter ex-lover,” Free guesses, looking unreasonably pleased with himself when it makes Jones laugh and Jamie glare at him .
‘“A-” Ramsey starts to guess before James heaves a sigh.
“He's my brother,” he admits and the entire room falls silent.
Then chaos erupts. All of the Fakes shouting and yelling as Trevor stares at Jamie in something that he refuses to admit is hurt . It's been months since their 'reunion’ happened and he still hasn't told them? James gives him a confused glance back. Trevor just crosses his arms and resolutely stares at the refrigerator door to ignore everybody in the room .
“-okay,” Ramsey shouts over the din, forcing Trevor attention back to the conversation. “Let’s just -” he turns the burner of the stove off ignoring the other’s disappointed groans. He turns around and points at Trevor with his spatula. “Your crew was kidnapped ? Why?”
Trevor bristles at the implication before he forces himself to calm down. Pissing off a possible ally is a bad idea. “Employer didn’t give us the full information,” he explains, shrugging. “Or even half of the information actually.”
Ramsey nods, lazily assessing Trevor. “Okay, we’ll help,” he decides. There’s a chorus of outrage and questions from the others but the relief that crashes over Trevor is so strong that he has to grab the door frame to keep himself from falling over . Ramsey raises a hand to silence the others, blue eyes locking with Trevor’s brown. “For a price.”
“I’m not sucking your dick,” Trevor says immediately. He sees James tense in the corner of his vision. “I won’t.”
Ramsey splutters, taken off guard, “You’re like twelve,” he says horrified. The tension in Trevor’s shoulders releases. “I don’t want you to suck my dick.”
“I’d never turn down a free blow-” Free starts, leering until James turns and glares at him. Free stops, looking slightly bewildered before he shrugs.
“Then what’s the price?” Trevor asks, suspiciously .
Pattillo rolls his eyes. “We’re expanding our territory,” he explains like somehow Trevor could possibly have missed the recent gang wars . “We need more support staff.”
“The Phoenix and Jenzen not cutting it anymore?” Trevor asks drily , shoulders creeping up. He doesn’t like where this is going.
“They’re cutting it just fine, thanks,” Ramsey shoots back, “They just have far more on their plate than anybody should be expected to keep up with .”
“We’re not coming to work for you,” Trevor points out, arms crossed. “The deal fell through, remember?”
“For a month, then,” Ramsey replies instantly , not even seeming bothered. “In return for getting your boys back.”
Trevor bites his lip before immediately letting go of it. He’s falling back into old tells like an idiot, James keeps throwing him off. “A month,” he double-checks. “ Just a month.”
Ramsey nods, looking completely at ease.
“I’ll work for you for a month.” Trevor negotiates. Ramsey frowns, opening his mouth but Trevor just shakes his head. “I won’t make that kind of decision for the others. You can ask them when we get them back.”
Ramsey’s frown deepens but he apparently seems to realize that Trevor isn’t going to budge on his decision, so he nods reluctantly .
“Alright,” he grumbles, turning back around and starting the burner again. “Now, go ahead and tell us everything you know and let’s come up with a fucking plan.”
Trevor nods and starts talking, ignoring the lingering dirty feeling that covers his whole skin . He’s getting his boyfriends out without making them work for a gang. Even if it was a gang that they’d worked their asses off to get said crew’s attention before. His boyfriends would never be forced to work for anyone, not as long as Trevor’s there to stop it.
Chapter 3: Chapter Three
Thank you all so much for waiting so patiently! I've worked pretty hard on this chapter so I hope that you like it! <3
Huge shoutout to Miss-Ingno who, as always, helps elevate my fics towards a readable level.
Trevor feels like he’s about to start jumping out of his skin if they don’t start doing something soon. His boyfriends are enduring God knows what while Trevor is relegated to sitting on an unfairly comfortable couch and answering questions that are only relevant half of the time.
“So,” Free starts, spinning away from his laptop to peer at Trevor over his trademark golden sunglasses. “Do you have any embarrassing stories about Ryan?”
“He left when I was seven and didn’t come back or try to contact me until a few months ago,” Trevor replies, picking at his fingernail before looking into Free’s gobsmacked face. “Ha.”
“Well, aren't you just a barrel of laughs!” Free replies, after opening and closing his mouth in shock. “God damn!”
“Aren’t you suppose to be looking for Tim and Axial?” Trevor asks, crossing his arms. “Why are you talking to me?”
“Well, if I knew you were going to be such a grumpy bastard I wouldn’t have wasted my breath!” Free declares.
Trevor opens his mouth to protest but before he can Ramsey saunters his way into the room to settle down heavily on the couch next to him.
"What're you guys talking about?" he asks, settling back into the couch with a steaming cup of hot coffee. After a quick sip he sets it to the side and starts bouncing his ankle on his knee.
"Oh nothing important," Trevor says, settling back into the couch to answer him. "Just how Ryan left me with a host of abandonment issues at the age of seven." He starts to pull his leg up but stops himself halfway through.
Ramsey doesn't seem to notice the misstep. Instead, he cocks his head. "Christ kid. Is that why you clocked him in the face?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Trevor agrees, head tilting to match Ramsey's. They hold the position for just a second before Ramsey grins.
"You're a pretty good mimic." he observes, "Needs a little polish though, not gonna lie."
"No, thank you. I don't need you to polish my anything." Trevor jokes reflexively, then pauses, wiggling his eyebrows at Geoff. "I thought we agreed on no sexual favors?"
Ramsey cracks a smile, still eying Trevor shrewdly. "You always so defensive?"
"Yep," Trevor answers, cheerfully. "Have to get in the habit to survive, you know?"
"Been on your own a lot then?" Ramsey pushes.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Trevor says, “Although I bet the same could be said of you, Grif .”
Ramsey raises his hands in surrender even though Trevor is sure that he is in no way defeated. "Didn't mean any offense by it, just asking."
' Just asking my ass, ' Trevor thinks, with an amiable shrug.
"Geoffrey," Free interrupts before Trevor has to come up with a retort. "I found a clue to where they could be."
Ramsey nods, settling back into the couch like somebody just gave him information about the weather. Trevor bites his tongue, wanting to scream about how they’re not taking his boyfriends’ safety seriously- But he’s at the Fakes’ mercy if he wishes to find them, so he resolves to let them work their way. For now. "Go ahead, Gav."
"The place they infiltrated is a central warehouse for a new crew in town calling themselves the Scorpions-" Free explains, but Trevor can’t hear any other words he says after. Confused terror hitting him like the sound of nails scraping on a blackboard as his vision goes hazy before he forces the world back into focus.
The Scorpions. They’re in Los Santos. They have Jeremy and Matt.
They have Jeremy and Matt.
"Excuse me," Trevor manages, nausea hitting him like a tidal wave. "Do you have a bathroom?"
"Sure," Ramsey says, waving his hand to the side casually. "Two doors to the left."
Trevor nods his thanks and power walks out of the room. He somehow makes it all the way to the bathroom before he loses the battle and throws up everything that's in his stomach.
He moves back away from the toilet and wipes his mouth with the back of his shaking hand before leaning his head against the cool tile at his back. His chest is tightening and his breath is coming in shaking, small pants.
It feels for a second like Alex’s hands are wrapped around his throat again and in response Trevor digs his fingers into his thighs, appreciating the flaring pain that distracts him from the fact that he can’t breathe.
‘ Come on, just relax and inhale slowly. Three, Eight, Five, come on,’ a voice that sounds an awful lot like Matt reminds him, and Trevor forces his breathing into some semblance of deep breaths. After a few moments, his shaking subsides into a bone-deep tiredness that keeps him rooted to the tiled floor.
There's a quiet knock at the door that makes Trevor leap to his feet so quickly that he has to grab onto the sink to not fall over. There’s a dizzying moment where he’s caught between terror and confusion because it wasn’t often that anybody he knew would knock on the bathroom even if it was locked and who-
"Trevor? You alright?" James asks. Trevor blinks at the still door handle and shakes his head to try and get rid of the leftover white noise. Is this the first time he knocked? Trevor doesn’t know and it makes him nervous.
"Yeah, I’m good," Trevor lies after a telling pause that makes him cringe. He turns on the faucet to splash his face. “Just feeling kind of sick. I’ll be there in just a second.”
“Oh, okay,” James says uncertainly. Trevor waits until his footsteps fade down the hallway before he releases his grip on the sink and lets his head fall forward. He counts out ten seconds before he stares into his reflection and lets a blank mask settle on his face.
He opens the door and makes his way back to the hallway and doesn’t bat an eyelash at the group of Fakes all hanging around in controlled chaos as Ramsey seems to give them a quick rundown.
“The Scorpions are the ones who’ve been fucking with the system lately,” Ramsey explains. “They’re the ones that fucked up the last Fakehaus’ heist and nearly shot Elyse.”
There’s a general rumble of discontent across the room that slowly gets louder as Ramsey continues to list all of their crimes. Trevor braces himself in the doorway, crossing his arms to hide his shaking hands. Any lingering hope that he has the wrong people in mind slowly disappears as Ramsey goes on and on about the things they pulled and… it sounds just like Alex. Not just another gang picking the same fucking stupid name.
“So what are we gonna do about it?” Jones asks, brows furrowed.
“Well,” Ramsey says. “I was hoping that we could fuck them up real bad.”
“Of course, Geoff,” Pattillo says, rolling his eyes. “That wasn’t the question, asshole. How are we doing this?”
“Well, fuck,” Ramsey responds bitingly. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. Duh. ”
“I’m trying to get a ping on their location,” Free chimes in. “Dollface is asking around for some info, too.”
“Alright,” James says, pushing off the wall. “How about while Gav’s trying to pin down a couple of locations we go ahead and get ourselves equipped and we make a plan.” He gives Trevor a searching glance.
“That sounds fine.” Trevor shrugs, exhaustion blurring the edge of his vision.
James doesn’t look convinced but he doesn’t call Trevor on it. “Alright,” he says. He shoulders his way across the room and waves a hand for Trevor to follow him out of the door and back to his car.
Trevor slides his seatbelt on and James glances over at him. “We’re heading out to one of our smaller places of operation-”
He does his best to pay attention but Trevor dozes off the moment they hit the streets.
“Hey,” James says, voice jolting Trevor out of an uneasy sleep. He’s put his skull mask on during the time it took to drive here and his blue eyes are unreadable and for once Trevor is actually grateful for it. “We’re here.”
Trevor nods and gets out the car to get a sense of where they are. The warehouse that they’ve stopped at looks pretty standard for a crew like the Fakes with its various security guards standing at the entrances and others patrolling around. It looks they’re right in the heart of downtown.
Ramsey is lounging on the front of a hot pink car that makes Trevor want to do a double take. “Hey, about time you assholes got here.” he greets.Trevor turns to give James a hard stare. James stares straight ahead before giving a slight shrug on his shoulder. “Are you ready for the grand tour?” Ramsey continues, cheerfully ignoring the obvious tension between them.
He leads them into the front of the warehouse which has rows and rows of stacked storage boxes.
"This is where we get some of our shipments," Ramsey states, leading them towards the back. There are a few people standing in the rows that hastily move out of the way as they stroll forward. He turns and looks at Trevor expectantly.
"Wow," Trevor responds drily. Ramsey beams and then continues to talk about the various things that could be in the boxes ranging from guns to drugs to various forms of medication that aren't allowed into the country due to FDA standards. James doesn't say a thing and then finally they make it to a back door that James uses a key to open.
The Fakes have more weapons in this one backroom than Trevor has seen for a very long time.
There are M16s and various types of shotguns in a variety of colors, just to name a few, and Trevor is pretty sure that he spies a grenade launcher over in the corner by one of the weapon racks by the wall.
"Oh hey, they finally made it," Jones greets from where he’s sitting on a couple of spare storage crates. "Jack went out to go check the inventory that we were supposed to get today and find some body armor for Skeletor.”
"Good," Ramsey says, before moving to look back at Trevor. "Alright so you can borrow anything in here that isn't already painted or that doesn't cost more than a thousand dollars to get."
"So no grenade launcher?" Trevor asks, feeling vaguely disappointed.
Ramsey laughs, "No grenade launcher until we all know for a fact that you can use it."
"You only make that mistake once," James offers.
"I didn't break the grenade launcher," Jones insists with an exaggerated English accent. "It broke itself."
Ramsey cackles and then the door opens behind them.
"Sup," Pattillo greets as she enters the room. She comes up to Trevor and holds out a Kevlar vest towards him.
"Looks like it should fit," she observes before shoving it into his arms.
"Thanks," Trevor mumbles before putting it on as confidently as he can. Him, Matt and Jeremy have never had near enough money to get an actual Kevlar vest and have instead resorted to getting knockoff at as low a price as Trevor could get.
"It does fit?" Pattillo asks, eyeing the vest critically for any weak point.
Trevor nods, experimentally twisting to make sure that it actually did. He gives Pattillo a grateful smile and she smiles back looking almost surprised before moving to go sit down on the other side of Jones.
"So," Pattillo starts, crossing her legs and resting her hands together. "Have we thought of a plan yet?"
"Gav's still working on which warehouse they could be at right now and we've got Lindsay working on getting some more information on them-"
"I know them," Trevor chimes in before he can think any better. Everyone turns to stare at him. He swallows harshly. "What questions do you have?"
"I thought you said that your employer didn't give you the full information about who you were robbing," is Jones' first question as he moves to sit up straight.
Trevor raises an eyebrow at him, "I had a life before this job," he reports. "I had a… contract with them when I was younger."
"Alright," Ramsey says slowly. He leans back against the wall. "What weaknesses do they have?"
"They hate people stepping out of line and would punish it by using relatives and debts and any other dirty secret they could find on you. It wouldn't be hard to get somebody to snitch on them if you could promise them protection," Trevor answers immediately.
There had been a guy only a few years older than Trevor when he had first entered the crew. The man had gotten cold feet and went and snitched to the police. Alex and his lackeys had burned down his house with the rest of his family in it. None of them survived.
Alex had driven Trevor by the ashes and had laughed at Trevor's horrified expression before calling it a lesson in obedience.
(He stills has nightmares about it sometimes. The apartment building with Jeremy and Matt burning to the ground while Alex makes the block.)
"Sound like real assholes," Pattillo observes, jolting Trevor out of his thoughts.
"Oh, they are. When I was there the leader was Alex Rossi. The meanest son of a bitch that you could probably meet and he knew exactly how to get people do things his way but he was very arrogant. Thought that him being threatening was enough to keep people under his thumb." Trevor continues. "He's cruel and any followers he had that has the stomach to be cruel gets rewarded pretty damn quickly."
"Do you think that Rossi is still leading this crew?" Ramsey asks, arms crossed. Trevor can see the beginning of an idea coming to life behind his eyes.
"Guessing from all the horrible things that you’ve listed earlier. Yeah.”
Ramsey nods, "You said that you took a contract with them when you were younger?" he asks, humming when Trevor nods.
"Do you think that you could get in and distract them for a few minutes if it came down to it?"
Trevor stares at him for a few seconds before finally, the words register in his brain. His first thought is 'fuck no' and 'please no' and 'I'd really rather throw myself on a pyre than ever see Alex's ugly face ever again' and then he remembers exactly what they are planning. Why they’re doing this.
Could he do it? For Jeremy, for Matt?
"I could more than likely distract them for at least five minutes," Trevor concedes, hoping that he's not trembling as obviously or as much as he thinks he is.
"Okay, so while Reach is taking care of distracting the head, we can grab Tim and Axial." Ramsey states looking pleased with his plan. "Simple as that."
James snorts from behind them and nudges Trevor out of the way, "You got a preference for a gun?" he asks over his shoulder while he tugs the mask off his face.
"If it can shoot, then I'm willing to take it."
James nods and after a moment of careful deliberation, he grabs a Springfield and some ammo to go with it and hands it to Trevor.
"So this is the first time that you guys have seen each other in forever right?" Pattillo asks, trying to make friendly conversation.
"Yep," Trevor replies, checking the mag on the gun."Nothing says a brotherly reunion like murdering a ton of people in cold blood. At least," he continues, the dig leaving his mouth before he can properly censor it. "I assume that's what most brothers do. Not like I had one for long."
James looks deeply hurt for a moment before his face contorts in anger. "Listen, it's not like I wanted to leave!" he snaps and oohhh, looks like Trevor finally found a weak point in his big brother armor.
The sudden urge to hurt James is overwhelming and Trevor smiles one of his sharpest. The one that’s always drawn blood out into the water.
It’s nice to not be the only one dying out there for once.
"Oh really?" Trevor asks, batting his eyes innocently. "Because it sure did look planned to me."
"You don't know anything about what happened that night," James snarls.
"Oh well, then please don't let me stop you from spilling out your tragic fucking life story," Trevor snaps back. “Do enlighten me how sad your life must have been.”
James rears back to spit more poison, eyes narrowed but before he can the door behind them slams open and a familiar face pokes its way into the door.
“I found them!” Free shouts, eyes wide and gleaming with excitement. He holds up a tablet triumphantly, a grainy video playing live. “I found the warehouse!”
“Alright then!” Ramsey says, clapping his hands. “Let’s go!”
Trevor and James share a hard, long look. Then James shakes his head slowly, looking defeated before he pulls his mask on and walks out the door behind Patillo. Trevor takes a deep breath and makes his way out towards the parking lot.
There will be more than enough time to argue with James later.