Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Geoff Ramsey is fifteen when he meets Jack Pattillo. At eight years old, she’s already the most intimidating thing in the room.

(Well, maybe that’s not totally accurate. Technically, it’s Geoff Fink who meets Jack at fifteen – Geoff Ramsey doesn’t come around until later, but for the sake of a good story we’ll stick with the dramatic name.)

The Allen Helding orphanage of Los Santos is the place Geoff has called home for twelve years, and it’s the kind of place good kids cross the street to avoid (what a joke – this is Los Santos, the only place you’ll find someone with no skeletons in their closet is the graveyard. There aren’t any good kids.) There are hundreds of rumours about Allen Helding – rumors that are more about the kids who live in the orphanage, dark eyed teenagers who fight over stolen beer cans and seven-year-old girls with purple switchblades.

Geoff doesn’t remember his parents. He was three years old when they dropped him off, and for all he knows, they’re dead (on the bad days, the angry ones, he hopes they are.) Allen Helding is the only real thing he knows and the matrons who run it are his closest thing to family – which is about as awful as it sounds.

Then Jack comes along.

She shows up three weeks into June, wearing cargo shorts and a red button down shirt. There’s a silver suitcase sitting next to her, and Geoff knows the contents will be redistributed among the other kids before sunset. Her ginger hair is neatly cut, and Geoff catches a glimpse of her parents out the window as they run to their car.

Matron Christina introduces her as the new boy, Jack Pattillo and tells everyone they should be nice to him. Jack bites her when the matron ruffles her hair. There’s blood.

Geoff likes her.

He doesn’t go out of his way to talk to her – there’s a hierarchy and he likes his place close to the top, king of the hill so to speak. He does, however, keep an eye on her, though it quickly becomes clear she can fend for herself. Jack makes a name as someone who hits back.

During her first week, the news slowly makes its way around the orphanage – the new kid keeps telling everyone she’s a girl, not a boy. It doesn’t go over particularly well.

The fifth time Jack gets jumped, Geoff steps in. He doesn’t have to do much. Geoff’s one of the more intimidating kids – he’s heard people whispering that his heart stopped beating ten years ago, that he’s a boogeyman, a demon. His dad runs the Kings, or the Devils. “That’s how he got those tattoos you know. His dad’s people broke in and took him away to get them, Alex was there when it happened!”

It’s all bullshit, but it means people move when he needs to get somewhere, and no one would dare snitch on him, so. Geoff can be their monster.

Once the kids messing with her clear out (they vanish once Geoff makes his presence known), Jack stays very still for a couple of minutes. Concerned, but trying to look nonchalant (he’s got a fucking reputation, okay?), Geoff lights a cigarette and watches her out of the corner of his eye. He clears his throat.

“You okay, kid?”

“Fine,” she snaps. “Why don’t you just get it over with?”

“Um.” Geoff’s not sure how to answer her. “What?”

Jack looks at him properly for the first time. Her eyes are wide, and they look fierce and angry but mostly tired. “You kicked those kids out so you could have your own turn swinging at the tranny, right? So you could punch the freak?”

She’s raising her voice now which is a surefire way to make Geoff panic. “No!” he exclaims. “I just, fuck, I don’t know. I didn’t think you deserved that shit. People listen to me so I thought I could help.”

“I don’t believe you,” Jack says. Geoff shrugs helplessly.

“Okay?”

They’re sort of friends after that.

Geoff gets people to leave her alone (mostly.) Jack steals him cigarettes from Matron Lucy’s good stash to pay him back – she says she doesn’t like owing people things.

Two months after she comes to Allen Helding he makes her laugh and it feels like a victory. It feels like a friend.

It’s not perfect – most days it’s terrible. It’s the two of them against the world, Geoff, the recently fifteen-year-old monster who has four tattoos he got sneaking out to illegal parlours and offering stolen money to ex-convicts, and Jack a hurricane who makes Geoff build houses in Minecraft whenever they can get a few minutes on the computer (she also bit eight people last week because they wouldn’t stop tripping her in the hallways.)

They shave Jack’s head and she finds him. He takes her up to the roof of the orphanage because emotions are kind of icky-sticky and she cries for three minutes.

“I could probably kill them, if you wanted me to,” Geoff mutters as he traces light patterns on her buzzed scalp. He doesn’t know if he could but he thinks he would do almost anything for Jack.

“Not worth it,” Jack replies. “Besides,” she sits up and wipes her face. “You’re not supposed to let them see they hurt you. Then they win. And we’re going to win.”

Geoff arranges an accident for one of the kids anyways. He has plenty of connections in this place, plenty of kids who listen to him in the halls between mealtimes, who owe him favors usually paid with cigarettes or stolen beer.

When Eric Smalls takes a nasty fall down the stairs it doesn’t make anything better, but it makes Jack smile.

Three years pass and all of a sudden Geoff is free. Allen Helding (literally) lets him out on the street and what was supposed to be fantastic is not so much. Because Jack, red haired firecracker Jack, is suddenly behind a thick stone gate and iron bars (installed on the windows after some kid fell off the roof.)

And he can’t get her out.

“No I have all the paperwork it’s right here,” he hisses. “Just let me adopt her.”

“I’m sorry,” the receptionist chirps in a falsely sweet voice and he hates her, he hates her so much. “Since you can provide no evidence of a safe and stable home environment, we cannot allow you to adopt the Pattillo boy.”

“Girl, the Pattillo girl,” he shrieks at her but she just tsks and continues filing forms.

Geoff goes home that night to his dumpster in a back alley and cries himself to sleep.

The first thing he does the next morning is go back and try again but he gets the same answer.

The third time he goes there’s a padlock on the main gate that he can’t pick for the life of him.

In the years to come Geoff will always regret that he never tried harder but he is still so young. He is eighteen in a city that will never be kind to children like him and he lives behind a dumpster. He can’t look after himself, let alone give Jack the kind of life she deserves (at least that’s what plays in his head when he doesn’t return on day four, or five, or three hundred and sixty-five.)

So, he looks for a way to distract himself from the guilt of leaving his only family in an orphanage – he finds every possible thing to distract himself. Dealing pays for ways that do and so he deals whatever is given to him. He becomes another face on another street corner of Los Santos, a ratty twenty something year old in a beanie who works for a nameless drug lord. A twenty something year old that refuses to sell anywhere near Cliff Street, because there’s a red headed ghost that lives in one of the buildings, but I digress.

Except Geoff has always been really good at getting people to do things for him. He might not care about how much he sells once he knows he can pay for tonight’s fix but his boss does. And his boss is impressed. Geoff gets a shitty apartment downtown that’s a major upgrade from his dumpster, and a promotion. Now he not only deals, but is usually sent for payment collection, too.

Once Geoff starts rising through the ranks he cleans up his act a little. Not a lot – just enough that he doesn’t embarrass his boss because now he’s working on the big meetings.

Like tonight. Tonight, he’s meeting with some asshole – calls himself Church and runs an amateur little crew on the east side of the city. Honestly, Geoff barely cares. This job pays well and the crew is hardly a blip on the radar. It’s an easy steal.

(The thing about things that are supposed to be easy, is that the universe likes kicking Geoff straight in the dick.)

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Geoff groaned. “The fuck are you doing here Heyman?”

Joel Heyman, aka the bane of his existence, is a freelance bodyguard. He’ll work for anyone, and protected Gary Kilnegg, Geoff’s boss, for over three months (until he got too expensive, but Geoff isn’t supposed to know that.) The rumours about him are ridiculous and mostly true – he only accepts payment in gold, he used to work as a stock broker and he once killed a man with a photocopy machine. When he worked for Kilnegg his favourite thing to do was hassle the lower ranked dealers and once, Geoff punched him in the nose. After that, Heyman focused all the hassling on him directly.

Joel grins at him and it’s all teeth. “It’s Caboose now, actually. Plus, all I’m doing is my job here. Same as you, Fink.”

Geoff growls, but before he can get a retort out, Church interrupts him.

“I’m glad you two know each other! That makes this easier.”

Geoff scoffs, purposefully ignoring Joel and turning to Church. Spite has always been his best motivator. “How does a low-level dickhead like you afford one of the most overpriced bodyguards in this city? You owe Gary Kilnegg twenty-one hundred dollars but you’re telling me you can keep Joel Heyman rolling in his dumb fucking gold?”

“It’s the smartest thing to invest in,” Joel mumbles, and Geoff takes great delight in how petulant he sounds.

“Joel gets payed the same as anyone else in my crew. With cash.”

“Bullshit,” Geoff says. “What makes you idiots so special, huh? People like him,” he jabs a thumb in Joel’s direction. “Don’t work for just anyone.”

“Neither do people like you,” Church counters, voice steady. “What makes a seller like you, someone who actually knows what they’re doing, work for a tool like Kilnegg?”

This has gone a direction Geoff was not expecting. “I needed a job.” He frowns. “What the fuck is this? No more shit, Church. Give me the money you owe or leave.”

“This is a job offer. I need a guy like you on the Roosters, and Joel gave me your name.”

“I have a job. It even has dental.”

Church leans back in his chair and exchanges a look with Joel. It’s a power play – Geoff would use it if he had friends to exchange a look like that with.

“In a month, Kilnegg will be next to nothing,” says Joel. “If you want to jump ship before he drags you under, call this number.” He hands Geoff a card and they take their leave before he has time to process the conversation.

Three days later, Kilnegg has a shipment of meth stolen from under his nose. A week after that, his second in command is found dead in the docks. Two days after that, a major warehouse is destroyed, taking out four trusted bodyguards and another member of the inner circle.

The message reads loud and clear. Kilnegg is imploding – does Geoff feel like imploding alongside him? (He might be addicted to half of the drugs in Los Santos, and full of enough whiskey and self-loathing to kill three men, but the answer to that question is, shockingly, no.)

Geoff calls the number and doesn’t let Joel get a word in edgewise “Call me Grif,” he says. “You just got yourself a sweet-talker.”

He meets the rest of the crew, and they’re….. unexpected. There’s four of them (five now), and honestly it’s sort of pathetic.

“This is your base of operations?” he snorts. Beside him, the hacker (Simmons) bristles and shoots him a glare (though that could just be his face.)

“Brought your boss down easy enough,” he snaps.

“Gus,” the overly friendly one (Sarge), sighs deeply. Geoff isn’t sure what he does really, other than sigh a lot.

Simmons, who is apparently also called Gus leaves, presumably to avoid a second disappointed sigh. Instead of being mildly ashamed of his crewmate, Sarge turns to face Geoff and offers a smile that is very friendly (it makes him nervous.)

“Sorry I didn’t introduce myself properly,” he says. “Burnie-Church, shit don’t tell him I told you that, likes the nicknames, but I think they’re kinda silly. I’m Matt.”
A hand is offered and Geoff takes it, albeit hesitantly.

“Geoff, or maybe Grif now I guess. What exactly do you do here?”

“You mean with the Roosters? Second in command is my official title – Church is our public figurehead but we do an equal amount of work behind closed doors.”
Geoff nods slowly, and glances around the apartment.

“I’m also the guy who set up the explosion of that warehouse,” Matt continues, and boy do Geoff’s eyebrows shoot up at that. “I’m not that great, but I’m the only one of us with any experience, so..” he trails off.

“How in the hell is this crew getting off the ground?” Geoff mumbles. Matt chuckles awkwardly.

“Uh, we do have a sort of plan. It’s called Plan Red – Burnie calls it Plan Blue but that’s bullshit.”

Plan Red, as it turns out, is an in-depth plot to gain control over as many branches of Kilnegg’s failing empire as they can before other gangs swoop in to pick up the scraps. As much as Geoff wants to be a grumpy pessimist it’s actually incredibly well thought out – and Simmons/Gus takes care of the pessimism department all on his own.

The plan goes about as smoothly as most plans involving Geoff go, and the universe only gives him a bullet in the shoulder instead of slam-dunking his nuts so, all in all, it’s not so bad. They have a decent chunk of territory now, and somewhere along the way Geoff kicked his cocaine addiction, so it’s sort of a win on multiple fronts.

(Joel still has to pull him out of seedy bars before he dies of alcohol poisoning, but at least it forces them to stop hating each other.)

The Roosters get bigger and better and bigger. They move out of Burnie’s shitty apartment, and move into a mildly less shitty place in a building that even has a laundry room without a rat infestation. Then they move into the bottom floor of one of the fancy buildings in Los Santos, and then they move to the 15th floor (and there’s only 23 floors so they’re not doing terribly for themselves.)

Geoff takes a life for the first time during a deal gone bad. His hands shake for eight hours after it happens, and Matt makes him hot cocoa. (No one has ever given enough of a shit about Geoff to make him hot cocoa, except maybe Jack. It burns his chest in a way that doesn’t make any sense.)

At some point, he becomes Geoff Ramsey. Geoff doesn’t know how it happened, but the fake name he used to give clients becomes his real name. Most of the time, Geoff doesn’t even miss Geoffrey Fink (it’s only the quiet nights, when everyone is asleep that Geoff lets himself mourn a boy who took the weight of Ramsey’s mistakes on thin, shaking shoulders.)

But a lot of time passes. Geoff turns twenty-five and Jack is still on the edge of every thought he has.

On her eighteenth birthday he is standing outside of Allen Helding orphanage with the past seven years tearing a hole in his heart. He does not deserve to be here. He does not deserve her forgiveness, but Geoff has a talent for unrealistic expectations that far exceeds the laws of probability.

When the front door opens, his heart stops.

Jack’s hair is buzzed down to her scalp and she’s wearing a baggy pair of blue shorts. She’s tall now, taller than him probably, and though he doesn’t deserve her, Geoff takes a step forwards. All he has to do is cross the street and she’d be right in front of him. Right there.

Jack sees him and freezes. Emotions flit across her face, and for a brief moment she looks like she’s trying not to cry.

The city of Los Santos holds its breath.

Jack’s jaw sets and she turns away from him, striding up the road. Standing on the side of the road, Geoff can’t breathe. The message is clear.

Seven years too late.

His crew finds him, huddled outside the orphanage, six hours later. Not saying a word, Joel helps him up and into the car. He takes Geoff back to the apartment and makes him dinner while everyone else is conspicuously absent.

They have sex.

They don’t talk about it. Geoff thinks it might have been a pity thing, which hurts him more than he wants to admit.

Though she clearly doesn’t want to see him, Geoff keeps tabs on Jack. She makes a name as an underground street racer (no one stays clean in Los Santos for long and Jack was always competitive) and sometimes he watches her race from the roof of a building. Her hair grows to reach her shoulders.

She seems happy, so he lets her be (and drowns out the part of his brain that yells Jack’s name like a metronome, keeping time with all Geoff’s mistakes.)

Chapter Text

Geoff decides to throw himself into his work. The Roosters are recruiting – sort of. It’s more like they’re collecting strays.

Chris Demarais is fifteen when he steals Geoff’s wallet in an alley and then fakes confusion so convincingly Geoff doubts for a half second that he even has a wallet. At twenty-seven Geoff can still remember how it feels to be hungry, so instead of killing Chris (which seems to be what the boy expects) Geoff takes him to the crew apartment and makes him a brisket. No one’s home – everyone’s out doing their job which is technically what Geoff is supposed to be doing but hey, his job is making connections right? This is a connection.

“So.” Geoff looks at the kid he’s brought into their top-secret base of operations (Burnie’s gonna kill him). “You got a name?”

“Chris,” the boy replies. He’s shoveling food down his throat at a velocity that has Geoff concerned for the safety of his stomach.

“Why’d you take my wallet?”

Chris shrugs. “Why do you think? I was hoping you’d have some money so I could buy food for me and f-for me.”

“For you and for you?” Geoff laughs. Chris stays quiet, facing away. “Fine, don’t tell me anything.”

“What do the Roosters want with me?” Chris asks quietly.

“Nothing,” Geoff says, and then pauses. “How do you know who I am?”

A shrug. “I figured it out. You’re all..” He gestures at Geoff. “Roostery.”

Geoff snorts, and takes away the dirty dishes. Chris follows him into the kitchen.

“All due respect, or whatever I need to say to make sure you don’t kill me, but I’d rather just get going now,” Chris says. “I need to get back out there.”

“Your parents gonna be worried?” Geoff asks and Chris actually laughs.

“Thanks Grif,” he tells Geoff and shakes his hand. It’s weird.

Chris ambles out the door with an amicable wave and once his bony frame is out of sight Geoff sighs heavily. He’s not really sure why he helped Chris, except for the sudden pang of sympathy that comes from seeing a kid picking pockets not for fun, but because he needs to. That was Geoff once. That was Jack once (when she got out of Allen Helding, Jack lived behind the 24-hour grocery on Broad Street for three weeks. Geoff doesn’t know how she ended up racing, but he’s damn glad she did.)

Geoff shakes his head. Chris is not going to be some kind of kid they save from poverty. The Roosters are doing well, but they are professionals. They are not babysitters.

Two days later Chris and his friend Aaron Marquis are back in the crew apartment. This time, Geoff has made two briskets.

Joel and Burnie come through the door and Geoff stops in his tracks. They stare, first at him, then at the two teenage boys sitting at their kitchen counter.

“We have oven mitts?” Joel asks. At the same time, Burnie yells.

Chris and Aaron look like they’re about to make a run for it but Geoff shakes his head. He knows Aaron has a switchblade in his pocket, saw him fiddling with it when he brought them up in the elevator, but it would hardly do much good against Joel if he saw them as a threat. They’re teenagers, and the Roosters are made up of hardened criminals (hardened criminals can wear oven mitts.)

“Grif why are there two children in my top secret penthouse base reserved only for the members of my high profile criminal crew?” Burnie hisses through clenched teeth.

“Hey, we’re not kids!” Aaron snaps. Geoff wants to write shut up on his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Burnie turns towards Aaron and his voice is icy. “Did I ask you if I gave a shit how old you are?”

“We should really go,” Chris tries. “Come on Aaron.”

“Hold on,” Joel says and Chris stops dead in his tracks. “Burnie, didn’t you mention wanting a couple more hands around to help with crew business?”

Geoff quickly jumps on Joel’s suggestion. “For the record, I’d really like for someone else to take care of the minor deals. I don’t wanna spend my days dealing with some kid begging for a gram of weed when I have bigger jobs.” He glances over at Aaron. “No offense on the kid thing.”

Aaron grumbles.

“What,” Burnie laughs. “You guys can’t be serious. You two want me to hire them?” He gestures at Chris and Aaron helplessly. “Geoff’s street rat pet projects?”

“Why not? You always said kids make the best dealers,” Geoff replies. He’s taking to the idea rather quickly. Geoff fucking hates handling teenagers. They’re his most unreliable clients.

“I was drunk,” Burnie protests.

“But the point was valid,” Joel says. “Think about it! No one’s even gonna notice them, not like people notice Geoff. He goes to a small time deal and you need to hire a sniper to keep an eye out. Send one of them and no one’s gonna bother because no one cares about the fourteen-year-old who’s dealing weed.”

Burnie stares at them both for an absurdly long time before sighing heavily and shaking his head. “What do you two think?” he asked the boys still standing in the corner of the room. “Wanna work for the Roosters?”

“What’s in it for us?” Aaron asks and half steps in front of Chris like he’s afraid Joel’s going to attack them if they say no to the offer.

“You could live here,” Geoff interrupts before Burnie can say anything. “And we’d pay you. Not a lot, but enough.”

Burnie shoots him an incredulous look but doesn’t rebut him.

“We’ll take it,” Chris says, head poking out from behind Aaron. “We’ll work for you.”

Aaron nods, but refrains from commenting.

“Great,” Burnie says. “Geoff will be teaching you everything you need to know, since he’s so fucking excited about this idea.” He rubs his forehead. “I need at least four drinks; I’ll be back later.”

“It’s three in the afternoon,” Joel points out as he follows Burnie out the apartment. He shoots Geoff a wink. “Have fun with the kiddies!”

Geoff works with Chris and Aaron for a month. He trains them, teaches them everything he knows and they soak it up like sponges. Chris’s first deal goes smoother than thought possible, and for a strange moment Geoff feels like crying.

Aaron stabs his buyer and Geoff sends him to work with Joel instead. Turns out he’s pretty good with his switchblade.

And it seems like bringing in the two boys opens the floodgates. In the following years they accumulate all sorts of odd kids. Matt introduces them to Kerry, who Geoff thinks is kinda dumb until he changes all the electronic locks and passwords to keep Geoff out of the apartment. The kid likes a challenge, and takes a shine to Gus of all people, getting the older man to teach him everything he knows about money and computers. Burnie shakes his head when Kerry brings in Miles, his best friend who could act his way into the police force if he really wanted to, but doesn’t say anything.

Everyone laughs when Burnie comes back one day with Brandon in tow. Brandon steals everything and anything left out in the open and they don’t realize he does it until he takes all of Chris’s pants as a joke and they find them in his room, amongst a literal treasure trove of stolen objects (“You took my condoms?” Geoff asks incredulously. “Not like you’re using them,” Gus snorts.)

At the same time, though, Geoff is more than a little uncomfortable. They’re working with teenagers, kids fresh off the streets and Geoff is twenty-nine. Chris just turned seventeen.

Joel teaches Aaron how to kill people and gets away with it, and because Aaron is a stupid fuck (has been since he talked back to Burnie their first meeting), he shuts everyone out. It kills Geoff a little bit every time he pushes Chris away. Those two will always be his kids, the first ones brought in, and he feels like he owes them a happiness they can’t find anymore.

So, like most of his solutions, he gets a drink. Joel joins him shortly into his second whiskey, pours himself a beer and sits next to him at the kitchen table. Geoff barely notices him, too busy watching Aaron watch Chris while Chris, Brandon and Kerry argue loudly over the result of a Mario Kart match. Geoff wants to punch something.

“They need to pull their heads outta their asses and go for it,” Joel muses.

“It’d be nice if they could see what’s right fucking in front of them,” Geoff grumbles. “I’m worried about them. They’re kids Joel, what are we doing working with kids?”

“You wanted them to work for us.”

“I wanted to make their lives better. I didn’t want-I didn’t want this, for them to kill or get hurt. I just wanted to–to make it better.”

“We’ve talked about this. You can’t use them to replace Jack, Geoff. That’s not how it works,” Joel says.

“Don’t talk about her,” Geoff snaps. “This has nothing to do with her, I’m not even thinking about her.”

“Why can’t I talk about her? So you can keep pretending she never existed? So you can keep tabs on her while we all pretend not to notice? While we pretend it’s not stupid that you still haven’t moved on, keeping your pet projects as stand-ins?” Joel has started to raise his voice. “This has everything to do with her.”

“Fuck you,” Geoff snarls. He slams his glass down on the table so hard it shatters and his fingers are bloody but he barely notices. “Just – fuck you.”

The four on the couch are totally silent, staring at Geoff and Joel in quiet terror. Geoff can’t take it, can’t take so many eyes on him. He runs.

Chris follows him. Chris follows him into the street.

There’s a sniper, hired by an enemy of the Roosters, who is told to shoot Grif. He misses Geoff but he manages to hit Chris, the boy that came out to try and talk Geoff down from another drunken rage.

That boy – Chris – gets shot in the stomach and Geoff knows it’s his fault.

Chris lives. Geoff wouldn’t have been able to handle him dying and he thanks the sky one thousand times when it’s over.

They rush him to Griffon, a local medic who’s known to help crews like them. They’ve used her before, on jobs that go wrong. She’s the best and she saves him.

She throws Geoff out before she starts working on him and he finds Aaron in the hallway. He’s shaking so hard he can barely stand. Geoff realizes with a start that he’s the same.

“He followed you,” Aaron says. “He wanted to make sure you were okay. You know he basically thinks you’re his dad? Like the one he didn’t get to have because his was a shithole who beat him half to death every other day.” Aaron puts his head in his hands. “We had that in common I guess.”

“I,” Geoff doesn’t know how to answer him. This is a lot, and Geoff may be a fully-grown man but he only really has the capacity to deal with a little.

“Who’s Jack?” Aaron asks. His eyes are red rimmed and angry. “Why wouldn’t you talk about her? Joel called us replacements, I think I deserve to know.” His voice cracks on the last word. “My best friend is dying in there and he is not some replacement.”

“You’re not,” Geoff winces at his rough tone. “You’re not replacements. I’m not using you guys as stand-ins. Jack is – was an old friend. We were raised together. Inseparable.”

“What happened?” Aaron’s tone is accusatory, like he somehow already knows Geoff fucked up in this story.

“We grew up in an orphanage, right? Allen Helding. I’m a lot older than her – seven years older – and when I got out they wouldn’t let me get her out too. So, I kind of fell off the wagon for a while and once Jack turned eighteen she didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I think she thinks I abandoned her on purpose. And, I mean, maybe she should. She’s safer that way.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” Aaron says. “They wouldn’t let you get her out, right? So, it’s not your fault.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “I haven’t forgiven you yet though. For the record.”

“Then we’re in the same boat,” Geoff snorts.

He starts to walk away, intent on finding a drink to get him through the rest of the day but Aaron makes a noise behind him.

“Wait!” Geoff turns around and quirks an eyebrow, making Aaron blush. “I just can’t…I can’t be alone right now,” he says. “I can’t do it while he’s in there.”

Geoff doesn’t say anything but he takes a seat on the floor outside Griffon’s apartment and gestures for Aaron to join him. They stay there for two hours and when Griffon comes to get them Aaron is asleep on Geoff’s shoulder.

Later, when Aaron visits Chris, he comes out blushing and Geoff thinks, finally. He says as much to Griffon, talks about how grateful he is that they got their shit together. Life is short in this world, he says.

Griffon whacks him in the head and tells him he’s the dumbest motherfucker she’s ever met. Geoff leaves her place confused and wondering why she kept yelling about Joel.

Two more years pass. Geoff is thirty-one and he realizes he isn’t happy.

And he’s pretty sure he can solve that problem.

Chapter Text

“You want to start a crew?” Burnie asks disbelievingly. “You are aware that you are already a very important member of a high-profile crew? In fact, a founding member? You are worth millions of dollars and your job is key to our entire operation but you want to leave?”

“Chris can do my job in his sleep,” Geoff scoffs. “I sell a lot of meth to important people. Sometimes I get to sell other things as well, but that’s not what I want to keep doing. The Roosters are essentially a drug empire, and while that’s all well and good that’s not what I want to be doing. I want to run heists.”

“We do heists!” Burnie protests.

“We used to do heists. Now half of us are old – thirty is old in this business Burns, do not fight me on this – and we call Brandon sneaking into a jewelry store a heist. I want to do big, theatrical showstoppers.”

“Something tells me asking permission is more a formality than you actually needing it,” Burnie rubs a hand down his face. “Geoff, so long as we don’t become mortal enemies once you step out of this room I will fully support you becoming the boss of your crew. Mostly because I’m not sure I actually have a choice in the matter.”

“Thanks Burnie,” Geoff says sincerely. He clasps the other man’s hand in his own and shakes it firmly. “I hope we work together for a long while.”

“Have you told the others yet?” Burnie questions.

“Gus, Matt and Brandon yes. The others no, not yet.”

“Why Brandon?”

“Kid’s not as stupid as he pretends to be. Plus, I wanted to know if he wanted in – I want a thief. He refused my offer though.”

“Don’t take my kids,” Burnie swats him over the head. “And Geoff?”

“Yeah?” Geoff pauses on his way out of the room.

“Tell Joel soon. And do it alone.”

“Okay?” Geoff’s confused. “Any particular reason?”

“You are so fucking dense I’m going to scream,” Burnie mutters. “Just do it okay?

Geoff leaves Burnie’s office and heads straight for the living room where he knows he’ll find at least some of the crew. He’s not gonna lie – this is kind of a terrifying idea. Building a crew from the ground up in Los Santos can take years, decades even, but he already has an idea of who he wants. Well okay, he has one idea but she’ll be enough to get something running. The hard part will be convincing her to actually do it.

Once Geoff reaches the living room he braces himself for a long discussion. Sure enough, Miles, Kerry, Chris, Aaron and Brandon are having a loud Halo match and Geoff has to yell to be heard.

“Hey guys-guys. Can you idiots be quiet for – holy fuck just shut up!” he shouts.

“Chill Geoff,” Brandon says. “What’s up? We got a job?” He studies Geoff for a moment and breaks out into a sad smile. “It’s official, huh?”

Four choruses of voices erupt with questions.

“Will someone tell me what is going on?” Chris yells. He turns to Geoff pleadingly. “What’s official?”

Geoff comes around the room to sit beside them on the couch. “A while ago I realized I wanted more than just being a seller” he begins. “And it’s not like I just wanted a promotion.”

Before he can get any further Miles interrupts him. “Geoff you’re terrible with a gun.”

“I fucking saved your ass just last week! I’ve killed twice the people you have, you -” Geoff pauses mid-exclamation and takes a deep breath. “That’s not the kind of career change I’m talking about.” He hesitates here. Better to just rip off the Band-Aid right? “I’ve talked with Burnie. I’m going to be leaving the Roosters to start my own crew, one that’ll be running heists on a regular basis. I already have a member or two in mind.”

“I’m joining the police force,” Miles says abruptly. The shocked faces turn to him and he shrinks under their collective gaze. “What? We need a guy on the inside and plus I figured with Geoff’s announcement it wouldn’t be such a big deal?” His voice peters out at the end of his sentence.

“What’s Geoff’s announcement?” Joel asks, entering the apartment. “You pick up another stray cat?”

“No, it’s about how he’s leaving the Roosters,” Brandon chirps and everyone whips around to glare at him. “What? I thought he already knew?”

Geoff is still a little shell-shocked from Miles’ declaration but he notices Joel’s jaw tense so much it could cut steel. “Interesting,” Joel finally says. “I hope it works out for you. If you’d excuse me,” he turns around and heads straight back out the door. Geoff’s on his feet instantly to go after him but Aaron grabs his arm and shakes his head.

“You’re just going to make him angrier,” Aaron says. “Trust me. I’ll get him.”

Reluctantly, Geoff lets him go. Aaron has trained under Joel for four years, he knows the man pretty well. Still, Geoff is worried.

“So does this mean we have to say goodbye to you?” Chris asks quietly, still on Geoff’s announcement. “Are you just going to stop being around now?”

“God no Chris,” Geoff says. “Burnie and I intend to work closely together-this arrangement is going to benefit all of us I can promise you that. I just need to move on to different things.”

‘What am I gonna do without you? I can’t do what you do,” Chris says.

“Are you kidding? You could do what I do backwards. Plus, Aaron’s going to be going with you on your deals, like he or Joel are with me. You have nothing to worry about,” Geoff ruffles Chris’ hair like he did when the kid was still fifteen. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” he calls to Miles who lets out a quiet curse. “What the fuck do you mean you’re joining the police force? You do remember that you’re a member of a criminal gang?”

“I’ve been talking about it with Matt,” Miles confesses. “For months now. We need a guy on the inside of that building and we need one we can trust. If I join up with the academy and work fucking hard I can get up there in a few years. It’s a good idea – plus no one knows I work with the Roosters. I’m the acting guy, it’s my job to not be recognised as a criminal.”

“You know this means you’ll never be able to see anyone, right? Plus, this is deep cover – if you make friends in the force can you just drop them like it’s nothing? Will you really be able to do that?” Geoff questions. “Miles, I’m not trying to sound like I think this is a bad idea, but I really think it’s a bad idea.”

“I know it’s fucking crazy. But I think I can do this, and I’ll figure out ways to see all of you,” Miles gestures around the room. “We need this kind of edge, especially with the Roosters climbing our way into the top three gangs in the city. I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

Chris reaches around Geoff to pull Miles into a hug. “You’re a dumbass,” he says. “And you are too,” he adds to Geoff, getting him into the hug as well.

“I need to get a cool new job,” Brandon mutters. “Then maybe you guys would let me win in Halo for a change.”

“You just suck,” Miles retorts, voice muffled from where his face is buried in Chris’s chest and Kerry cheers loudly.

“Get fucked Brandon,” he yells.

Geoff laughs as well but it cuts out when Joel and Aaron walk back into the apartment. Silently, Joel makes his way to the kitchen and Aaron retakes his place on the couch, elbowing Brandon out of the way.

“He’s not great,” Aaron says to Geoff’s unanswered question. Miles and Brandon have begun a wrestling match on the floor and Kerry is keeping score so no one is really paying attention anymore. “He’ll get there though.” And just like that the conversation is over.

Except everything’s not over because Geoff is preparing to move into a new place and has started drafts for heists he can perform with two people and Joel still won’t talk to him. Today is his last official day as a member of the Roosters, and one of his oldest friends is pretending he doesn’t exist. Geoff complains to Gus and the younger man looks so frustrated Geoff wonders if he’s done something wrong.

“You are truly the densest person I’ve ever met,” he tells Geoff. “Now leave me alone.”

“But I don’t know what I’ve done wrong!” Geoff calls after him. “I leave tomorrow, and he won’t say anything that isn’t a one syllable response to a question I ask him directly. Please help me Gus.”

Matt comes up out of nowhere and pats him on the back. “You’ll figure it out,” he says cheerfully. “Come on Gus, I have a couple questions for you.”

Geoff doesn’t figure it out because all of his friends are so fucking cryptic and refuse to help. The crew throw him a massive goodbye party at his new apartment that night. Joel is nowhere to be seen so Geoff gets maybe a little more drunk than is a good idea, but hey it’s his night okay? Fuck Joel and his stupid grumpy attitude and his dumb fucking hair and his stock markets and his knives –

Geoff walks straight into Joel emerging from the bathroom.

“You!” he accuses and okay maybe he’s had a lot more than he should have. He’s swaying slightly in place and Joel looks concerned.

“Me…?” he replies.

Geoff’s not really sure where it comes from but suddenly he is surging forwards and his mouth is on Joel’s and his hands fist in the taller man’s shirt and it is so, so good why is Joel pulling away?

“You’re drunk Geoff,” Joel says gently. “I’m going to take you to your bed okay?” Geoff shakes his head and presses up against Joel, looking imploringly at the other man.

“Remember the last time this happened? When we slept together?” Joel says. “You wouldn’t talk about it. I don’t want you to make that mistake again.”

“Wasn’t a mistake,” Geoff says insistently. “Thought you didn’t want to talk about it. Thought it was a – a pity thing.” Words are getting harder now. They’re slurring together and his eyesight is a little blurry but Geoff thinks Joel looks surprised.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re drunk,” he says to Geoff after a slight hesitation. “Come on.”

After a lot of struggling Joel finally gets him into bed – though not in the way Geoff wants. The older man tucks him in and looks at him with what might be fondness. Geoff’s drifting off to sleep, but before he passes out he feels a soft pressure on his forehead.

The next morning Geoff wakes up and the first thing he does is call Burnie. He barely remembers the previous night – flashes of Miles stripping, and Chris and Aaron doing shots but he remembers Joel.

“Missing me already?” Burnie teases when he eventually picks up.

“Where’s Joel?” Geoff asks desperately. “Is he with you?”

“No?” Burnie sounds confused. “He left for a job early this morning, seven-thirty maybe? Didn’t he tell you?”

“When’s he getting back?”

“Not for a while. Weeks, months maybe. Geoff, should I be worried?”

“No.” And with that Geoff hangs up and puts his head in his hands. Fucking Joel.

Geoff takes two days to lament the fact that he’s a dumbass and Joel is an even bigger dumbass before he starts preparations for his new crew. He has one certainty, one woman he knows he wants with him and a couple other ideas.

But for now he’s working on his certainty. It won’t be easy, recruiting Jack Pattillo to his crew, but he knows he needs her if he even wants to think about becoming bigger.

Chapter Text

Jack Pattillo is not a difficult woman to find. She still races, and is highly successful. Undisputed champion of the underground track and worth more than Geoff's entire career. (And she doesn’t try to hide, which Geoff thinks is crazy because her competition would probably kill her in a second to get on top. Street racing is a dirty sport.)

Even after many years Jack is still a woman of routine and Geoff has it on good authority (Gus) that she celebrates post-race at a bar up on sixth street, Trials. So, Geoff waits until a race is scheduled and then he follows Jack to the bar. He’s not sure how he’s going to get her to work with him – he’s hoping Jack sees him and just says okay but Geoff has a sneaking suspicion it’ll be harder than that.

Still, catching glimpses of her as he tailed her to the bar convinces him that this is something he needs to do. (Fuck, he’s missed her so much. Seeing her again is a breath of fresh air.)

Jack brings her crew to the bar, a ragtag group of people that literally exist for the sole purpose of buying Jack drinks post-race and sometimes, sometimes, fixing her car up. Geoff’s done research on these people (which isn’t as weird and stalkerish as it sounds.) He’s sure he’d be at least doubly competent as the idiots around Jack – okay that might be Geoff getting jealous. And weird.

Geoff slides into the bar twenty minutes after Jack and goes straight to the booze. Figures if he’s doing this he might get pleasantly buzzed at first. Judging by the nervous looks he keeps getting from the two bartenders they know who he is – and Geoff’s not actually sure if the fact that he’s split from the Roosters is public knowledge so he should make sure to keep a fucking lid on it until he’s talked it over with Burnie. The blond bartender keeps looking his way when he thinks Geoff can’t see him and it’s starting to bother him just a little bit.

“Everyone has a fucking agenda in this city,” he grumbles into his whiskey.

“You’re telling me,” a voice sounds next to him and Geoff almost falls off his barstool.

Sitting next to him is Jack Shannon Pattillo with a shark tooth smirk on her face and a beer in her hand.

“You can’t just surprise a guy like that! I might have shot you!” Geoff gasps. He looks her up and down before he can help himself and smiles. “You look good!”

“I got surgery a few years ago. Why are you here, Ramsey?” Jack asks bluntly. She notices Geoff’s quick glance around for her crew and shakes her head. “I sent them home. This is too personal for them to be involved in. Did the Roosters send you? I don’t fix my races for money, I won’t do it.”

“I’m not with the Roosters anymore,” Geoff grins sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. Inside he’s wincing at Jack’s use of his last name – and she’s using Ramsey too, which is even worse. “I’m starting my own crew. A heisting crew.”

Jack leans back in her seat and looks him up and down. “So why are you here?”

Geoff looks her in the eye and prays his expression is as calm as he wants it to be. “I need a driver and everyone knows you’re the best.”

“No personal reasons?” Jack snorted. “I don’t fuck around with that kinda stuff Ramsey. I’m a racer, nothing more.”

“Okay a lot of personal reasons. Look,” Geoff keeps one eye trained on the bartender who is edging closer in an obvious attempt to listen in. “Jack, this crew is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

Jack laughs. “Yep,” she agrees readily. “The Roosters are filthy fucking rich and you just went back to the bottom of the scrap heap.”

“I need this Jack. And it’s not something I can do without you.” Geoff knows he sounds desperate but he can hardly pretend he isn’t. He stares Jack down pleadingly.

“Can’t do it without me?” she asks.

Geoff nods enthusiastically. “Look I know you sort of hate me –”

“I don’t hate you,” Jack interrupts. “Not anymore. I did, for a really long time but I got so tired of being angry all the time you know? It just wasn’t worth it.”

“Well that’s a good start for a crew,” Geoff clears his throat awkwardly because what he really wants to hug Jack and throw her in the air like he did when they were kids because she doesn’t hate him! Not anymore!

“We still have a way to go before it’s even close to how it used to be,” Jack warns like she can read his mind.

“So you’ll be my driver?” Geoff asks tentatively. “And in my crew?”

“I’ll give you a trial run,” Jack decides. “Nothing more.”

Geoff’s grin is so wide it might be splitting his face open. “I like your hair now by the way,” he tells her. “Still not sure about the Hawaiian shirt but I figure if we’re working together I’ll have to get used to it.”

“A trial run,” Jack says but there’s laughter in her voice and it feels so, so much better than cocaine did, Geoff can’t believe it. He slaps some money on the bar to pay for his drink and practically skips out of the bar. Jack follows him, however reluctantly, as he skips down the street. “I’m still mad at you for leaving me in that orphanage for seven years!” she calls after him and Geoff freezes in his tracks.

“I thought you didn’t hate me anymore,” he says hoarsely. That’s a time he doesn’t like to remember.

“I don’t but I’m still angry,” Jack catches up with him at the top of the street. “Look I get it okay? You were a kid and you were terrified and newly released into a city of drugs and crime and it’s not okay, but it is understandable. I don’t hate you for it, and someday I’ll stop being mad about it.”

“I tried,” Geoff whispers. “I tried so hard but they wouldn’t let me get you out.”

“What?” Jack asks. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“They wouldn’t let me,” Geoff murmurs. “I tried.”

Jack clears her throat and he turns to face her. It’s hard to tell in the dim light but if she looks anything like how Geoff feels she’s probably crying at least a little bit.

“You had years after that though,” she mumbles. “What you could pull off multi-million-dollar drug deals but you couldn’t break a fourteen-year-old out of an orphanage?”

“I,” Geoff breaks down. “I should have tried harder but Jack I was in such bad shape. You didn’t see me then, it was awful. Like really, really bad.”

“Geoff,” Jack laughs softly. “Geoff are you crying?”

“Shut up!” Geoff whines and he hears Jack let out a deep sigh before pulling him into a hug.

“You shut up,” she mumbles. “Now, I need to get back to my place. Can you show me your “grand heist” plans tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Geoff manages and scrawls an address on a receipt Jack hands him. “Does eleven work?”

“Okay.” Jack looks like she’s about to say something else for a second, but instead she gives him a soft smile and walks off down the street. Geoff watches her go and he feels a lot of things but for the first while, most of them are happy.

The next morning Geoff wakes up at six-thirty and he can’t get back to sleep so instead he cleans his entire apartment. He’s only been living there a few days so there’s not actually a lot to clean but he’s nervous alright?

Geoff’s about one bad thought away from abandoning this entire idea and begging for Burnie to take him back into the Roosters when there’s a knock on his door.

“Hello?” Jack calls. “Geoff?”

Geoff knocks everything off the kitchen counter in his haste to get to the door. He rounds the corner and Jack is already inside his apartment, staring at him.

Panting slightly, Geoff leans against the wall, and tries to look nonchalant. “Hey,” he nods to Jack. “Good to see you.”

Jack raises an amused eyebrow. “You wanna show me those plans?”

“Right! They’re in my study, I’ll show you.”

On the bright side, Jack seems just as awkward as him. Last night feels like it might have been a really good dream, where nothing had changed between them, but this morning is making it clear that if Geoff wants that easy familiarity back he’s going to have to work pretty damn hard.

“Um, so this is the kind of job I’ve been thinking about,” he gestures halfheartedly at the papers spread on the table. “It’s nothing huge, just a convenience store robbery, but I figure it’s good to start small, right?”

“This looks good,” Jack says, flipping through the sheets. “Did you have a date in mind?”

Geoff’s settling more into his element now. He’s good at this part, the talking to a client (Jack’s not really a client he thinks, except she sort of is, a customer trying a one-week free trial before using a product full time.) Going through all the details of his heist with Jack calms him down and before long the discomfort from before is pretty much gone and Geoff finds himself cracking jokes.

Maybe repairing this friendship won’t be as hard as he thinks.

They set a date for the robbery (it’s not a heist, even if Geoff really wants it to be) and Jack’s turning around to leave when she stops suddenly.

“I totally forgot,” she asks. “I meant to ask you this earlier, but I got a little distracted.”

“Yeah?” Geoff’s scribbling a couple notes on a scrap piece of paper so he’s only half paying attention to what Jack’s saying.

“What’s the name of your crew?”

Geoff’s brain comes to a complete halt. “Oh,” he mutters softly, because in all his fucking planning he somehow never accounted for the fact that his crew will need a name. “Fuck.”

“You don’t have a name Geoff? Really?” Jack’s voice is incredulous. “Nothing?”

“I forgot!” Geoff cries. “What the fuck!”

He’s stuck in place, trying to come up with some kind of name for a crew but he has nothing. The great Geoff Ramsey, master of words, with the ability to convince anyone to do anything, is totally and completely blank.

“The AH Crew,” Jack says. She doesn’t need to say what it stands for.

“The Fake AH Crew,” Geoff retorts. Jack nods and smiles.

“I’ll see you Thursday,” she calls as she leaves the apartment. “My number’s on your map if you need to get in touch with me.”

Geoff collapses on the couch out of exhaustion. Now he just needs to make it to Thursday.

Luckily, he does, though Wednesday morning he almost cancels the whole thing. A frantic phone call to Chris at five am saves his heist from going out the window, and, well, Geoff’s still nervous but slightly (the tiniest fraction of slightly, barely even qualifying) less so.

He’s never been so stressed over a job before. Geoff isn’t sure if it’s the Jack factor, or the new crew factor, or the if everything goes wrong he'll be a disgrace to the Roosters and never able to recover factor or some combination of them all but he’s relying on this heist going exactly to plan, else Los Santos’ best seller is going to jump off a goddamn bridge.

Thursday morning rolls around and Jack is back in his apartment, this time packing a lot more heat.

“We do not need this many guns to rob a convenience store!” Geoff exclaims. “Where did you get all of these? Can you even use them?”

Jack shoots him a dirty look from overtop of her pile of ordnance. “Yes I can use them,” she snaps. “I bought them. Figured if the Fake AH Crew want to make it big we should have some kind of arsenal to use.”

“We?” Geoff asks hopefully.

“You’re still on trial. It’s a temporary we.” Jack gestures at him with a nearby clip of bullets. “But I figured I’d at least get you a present.”

Geoff grins and despite her hesitant expression, Jack grins too.

The “robbery” (it will always be a heist to Geoff) goes about as smoothly as one could expect. They make away with six hundred bucks but somehow the clerk behind the desk manages to push the alarm to call the police before Geoff shoots him.

Jack’s waiting in the car outside and Geoff tumbles in, lugging the bag of cash with him. “Drive!” he shouts, already hearing sirens wail in the distance.

“Did you get the money?” Jack asks as she shifts gears and starts moving.

“Yes, yes, yes now go!” Shoving the bag in the backseat Geoff grabs an automatic rifle and cocks it. He rolls down the window as Jack goes tearing down the street and sticks the gun out of it, ready for the officers that will be swarming them any minute.

“You left a calling card, right?” Jack yells over the sirens that are growing steadily louder.

“I’m not stupid!” Geoff shouts. “I wrote our name on the wall!”

Jack opens her mouth to make a retort but Geoff doesn’t hear her because the cops have torn around the corner behind them. Firing off a couple warning shots, he grins wildly. This was what he wanted when he talked to Burnie. Sure, selling drugs put food on the table but this, this is a much better high.

Having Jack with him sort of makes it feel like home too, and Geoff doesn’t want to cry during their heist but he already is and there’s not a lot he can do about it.

The cops pursue them for a while but Jack is good enough that they lose them eventually. Geoff’s bullets help too.

When they pull into Jack’s garage to drop off her car, Geoff is grinning so widely he feels like his face might split open.

“That’s what I call a successful heist!” he yells, pumping one fist in the air. Geoff turns around to face Jack and lets out a triumphant cackle, brandishing his bag of money like a trophy. “The Fake AH Crew is officially in business!”

“We got like, four dollars,” Jack points out, but she’s smiling too and Geoff is drunk off it.

“I gotta call Burnie!” he exclaims. “And Chris, and Aaron and Jo-Gus! I gotta call everyone!”

He tears off to a corner of the garage and frantically dials Burnie’s number. “Burnie – Burnie yeah, that was me!”

Burnie is laughing on the other end of the line and Geoff can hear the others crowded around him as the two talk. Congratulations are divvied out and Geoff promises to come around for drinks soon (“Before I go to the academy!” Miles demands) and the hubbub dies down slowly until it’s just Burnie on the other end of the line.

“Have you heard anything from Joel?” Geoff asks quietly. “Like when he’ll be back?”

Burnie sighs. “Nothing. It’s a long job Geoff, it’s going to be a while before he gets back.”

“Fucker timed it perfectly,” Geoff mutters, out of range of the receiver. “I’ll talk more with you later Burnie, I gotta go. Money to spend and all that.”

“Take care of yourself,” Burnie says. “And tell Jack that Church says hello.”

“Will do,” Geoff says and he ends the call. While he’s been talking with the Roosters, Jack’s been organizing her garage, probably to look like she’s not listening in.

“Must be nice,” she murmurs, “To have that kind of family.”

Geoff walks over to her. “It is,” he says. “Crews are like family.”

“Even a two-person crew?” she says.

“Duh,” Geoff snorts.

Jack hums softly and Geoff might be imagining it but he thinks there’s a smile playing around her face.

The Fake AH Crew officially gains its second member the following morning. Jack Pattillo, infamous underground racer retires and Jack Pattillo, right hand of a gang that’s going to become one of the biggest in the city steps up to play.

It’s tough at first, to work with just the two of them. Their only ally is the Roosters, but Geoff doesn’t want to work too closely with them until the Fake AH Crew is more solidly established.

“If I get everything I need from you, it’ll look like we just piggybacked the Roosters to the top. No one will take us seriously,” he explains to Burnie. “This is something Jack and I need to build up on our own first.”

Geoff is still present at the Roosters penthouse every so often. He’s there the day before Miles heads off to the police academy and he brings Jack, who everyone immediately loves. She stays quiet at first but then Burnie makes a joke at Geoff’s expense that has her letting out a raucous bout of laughter and she begins to loosen up. Closer to the end of the evening Jack and Geoff pack up to head out and right before they go he corners Burnie alone.

“Have you heard anything from Joel recently?” Geoff knows he must sound like a broken record but he so badly wants to mend the relationship he has with Joel (even if nothing more comes of it, Joel is still one of his oldest friends.)

“Geoff, I’m sorry,” Burnie starts and Geoff shakes his head.

“It’s alright,” he says, clapping Burnie on the shoulder. “Lemme know when you do, okay?”

He and Jack leave the Roosters penthouse, bidding everyone goodbye and Miles good luck and they head to their own base of operations. They’ve got plenty of work to do.

(Geoff falls asleep by nine-thirty, but Jack puts a blanket over him and that’s. That’s pretty nice.)

Chapter Text

The Fake AH Crew have been pulling off more complicated jobs recently, but they’ve been planning a bigger one for a while now. There’s a problem though, because the job needs someone neither they or the Roosters have. It needs a demolition guy.

Geoff pulls in his connections to try and get ahold of someone on short notice but he notices two names that keep cropping up. Everyone on the street is talking about Mogar and Brownman and though Geoff doesn’t need the sniper on this job, Mogar specializes in exactly what he wants. So, Geoff sets up the meeting.

Things don’t go to plan however, when Mogar shows up and Geoff forgets to keep his dumb fucking mouth shut.

“You’re a kid?” Geoff yells incredulously. “What?”

Mogar scowls at him, and Geoff backtracks immediately.

“Not that that means you’re not good at your job,” he hurries to say. “I just wasn’t expecting someone I’d heard so much about to be so, so young.”

“Yeah well, like you said, I’m good at what I do,” Mogar snaps. “Now did you want me to blow some shit up or not?”

“Yeah,” Geoff coughs awkwardly and slides the plans he and Jack have worked so meticulously on over the table. Mogar grabs them (Geoff does his best not to wince) and looks them over, scowl softening into a more concentrated look.

“You just need me to blow the vault door?” he asks.

“And help me provide some covering fire should it become necessary,” Geoff says. “We’re robbing the store at night, so hopefully we won’t hear from the cops at all. But, it never hurts to be prepared!” He gives the cheap smile that makese Chris laugh and Aaron throw a punch. Mogar seems less than impressed.

“What’s my cut?”

“We can sort the fine print out later, but I was thinking forty percent of our earnings?”

Mogar raises his eyebrows (Geoff almost doesn’t catch them as they disappear into his curls.) “That’s a high margin for someone who’s just blowing open a safe.”

“Call it an investment.” Geoff stares evenly at Mogar. “Towards future endeavors.”

“Future endeavors?” Mogar sounds surprised but Geoff’s pretty sure his tone doesn’t indicate total hatred at the idea of working with Geoff again. “Let’s just see how this job goes down first.”

Geoff nods easily. “Not a problem, Mogar. I look forward to seeing you soon.”

“Same to you, Grif,” Mogar shakes his hand, and Geoff is so surprised to hear him use that name that he almost forgets to return the handshake. Since starting the Fake AH Crew Geoff has discovered that life is much easier if he forgoes any nicknames, so hearing his old title come from Mogar’s mouth is - surprising.

“Call me Geoff,” he smiles. “Since we’re going to be working together and all.”

Mogar nods stiffly (and is that a hint of blush on his cheeks? Geoff doesn’t think he’ll mention that detail to Jack when he goes over the meeting later.)

The job in question, a jewelry store heist, is going to (hopefully, please god) be an easy steal. Jack and Geoff planned a simple raid, even going so far as to make it happen at night so that the chances of the police being alerted are slim. The only reason they need to hire someone at all is the fact that the store has a locked safe room (people in Los Santos can never be too careful) and neither Geoff nor Jack have any experience dealing with explosives. Geoff’s also hoping to sway the kid into thinking about joining their little gang permanently – a full time demo expert would be more than a little useful for the Fake AH Crew (and if they want to go up in terms of notoriety they need to start going up in numbers.)

The night of the heist itself, Geoff and Jack are waiting at the designated meeting point. The air is cold and crisp but it’s probably a good thing. It’s keeping Geoff awake.

“So long as I don’t call him a kid I’ll probably make a better first impression that you did,” Jack jokes. Geoff’s trying to make sure that she doesn’t scare Mogar away because he would really like for their crew to have some connections that aren’t the Roosters. (He loves Burnie, and Chris, and Gus (and Miles even if he's not allowed to say it out loud anymore) (and Joel, even if that's a touchy subject on a good day) but the Roosters are more like extended family than crew. Like a great uncle you see at family reunions - creepy, overly cheerful uncle Matt smokes too many cigarettes and teaches you the wrong way to change a tire but you still want to see him - just not all the time. Geoff would like some actual crew members, not second cousins.)

“Shut up,” Geoff groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “I can’t believe I did that, I’m the best seller in Los Santos, but I called my client a fucking kid.”

“You’re not really a seller anymore,” Jack points out.

Geoff snorts. “Yeah, well I’m not gonna be the leader forever. Once I can find someone to train to take over the crew, I will. I like the high of committing a heist much better than planning one.” He adjusts the pistol tucked into his belt. “Plus, I make an excellent frontman.”

“Really?”

“Less pressure if I don’t have to lead.”

“Fair enough,” Jack shrugs but before she can say anything else, Mogar slips out of the darkness and sneers at them.

“Ready to go or what?” he snaps.

“Course!” Geoff gives him an easy smile. “Mogar, this is my partner, Jack Pattillo. Best goddamn driver you’ve ever seen. And, not a half bad pilot.”

Mogar gives a slight nod and Jack waves cheerfully at him.

“Well let’s get moving then,” Geoff says, and just like that the heist is in session.

It goes astonishingly well. No alarms are tripped, the vault door pops open easily (“Told you I’m good at what I do,” Mogar sniffs and Geoff gives him a hearty clap on the back) and they make away with a good haul of cash.

Jack usually doesn’t leave the car for their heists (they happen too quickly to merit it) but for this one she helps Geoff and Mogar fill the bags of loot. She and Mogar quickly get along, striking up easy conversation as they work. For all his angry front, Mogar is an easygoing guy, content to chat with Jack and carry the bags away to the car when they’ve finished.

They’re wrapping up the job and Geoff is getting ready to tag the wall with the Fake AH Crew name when he notices Mogar lurking by the doorway, an expression Geoff can’t quite decipher on his face. He extends the spray can towards the younger man.

“You wanna do the honours?”

Geoff ignores Jack’s raised eyebrows and focuses entirely on the man in front of him.

Mogar takes a few hesitant steps towards Geoff but stops short. “I can’t,” he says. “I have Ra-I have people.”

“I understand,” Geoff replies and tries to swallow his disappointment. They’ve all got someone they need to hold onto.

The three of them pack up quickly once Geoff tags the wall and they pile into Jack’s fancy sports car. Mogar directs her to a drop off point and as he’s getting out of the car, Geoff can’t stop himself from calling out.

“Mogar?” he says. “My offer is always there.”

Mogar doesn’t actually say anything but Geoff sees the slight nod of his head. As Jack peels away from the curb, Geoff can’t help but let out a sigh.

“It’s okay,” Jack says softly. “We can always try and bring him around. Maybe Brownman will want to work with the Fake AH Crew, and then we’ll get them both.”

“Yeah,” Geoff nods. “Maybe.” He’s too tired to offer much more than that at the moment. “Let’s go home, Jack.”

“Okay.”

A lot of years go by before Geoff sees Mogar again. The next time the demo expert shows up, Geoff will be thirty-eight and the Fakes will have gained two new members. Mogar is covered in blood, lying in the arms of a famous international assassin –

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here. Before Geoff sees Mogar again, he’s got to meet Brownman.

The Fake AH Crew continues to grow and Geoff gets prouder and prouder every day. He and Jack build their crew up from the bottom, making connections and working their way up. Geoff keeps an ear to the ground in an effort to hear about Mogar but about two years after their jewelry heist he drops off the face of the earth. Both him and Brownman, gone.

So, Geoff forgets them, and gets back to work. Three more years pass and Geoff and Jack have enough money to buy a fancy expensive penthouse on top of a skyscraper. The Roosters are booming as well, their sudden knowledge of the police force’s inner workings helping them commit more crime-and giving the Fakes a really good edge when it comes to pulling off heists.

Then Geoff is on a booze run and he saves someone’s life.

Kind of a contradiction, right? Criminals like him take lives but even if Geoff’s thirty-six he still hasn’t outgrown the soft spot he has when it comes to lonely kids on the street.

The man he saves is a little old to be a kid, but just barely.

It happens like this: Geoff has gone to the liquor store across the bridge because he prefers their whiskey over the one nearer to the apartment. On his way back, he notices a skinny figure trying to climb over the side and before he can think, he reacts.

Geoff runs over to the figure and grabs them around the waist, pulling them away from the side of the bridge. Cars whizz by but Geoff pays them little mind.

“You okay?” he asks, panting from the run over.

The person he saved (who Geoff thinks is a man in his early twenties, though it’s hard to tell in the light) laughs and flops on the tarmac next to him. “If I was okay I wouldn’t be trying to jump off a bridge,” he replies. “You got anything good on you?”

“What, not even a thank you?” Geoff is indignant but the man simply laughs louder.

“I’m not about to say thank you for you prolonging the inevitable. I’ll just try again tomorrow, so don’t clap yourself on the back for being a good Samaritan.”

Geoff knows a thing or two about being addicted and he can see it in the man before him. The way his hands shake, his eyes refuse to focus. (He’s trying to hide it but Geoff’s been there. He knows that place.)

“When was the last time you got a fix?” Geoff asks.

“Too long ago. I ran out of money and my dealer well, he’s not the most understanding guy. Can’t blame him I guess.”

“Come with me,” Geoff says and to his surprise, the man follows.

By the time they get back to the penthouse Geoff has learned a few new things about his companion. One – he never shuts the fuck up. Two – he knows exactly who Geoff is, which is a startling development.

“Drug dealers fucking worship you dude,” his new friend snorts. “Plus, I’d have to be an idiot to not know who you are. First a Rooster and then a Fake, not knowing your name could get me killed.”

Geoff shakes his head but at the same time he can feel his chest puffing up with pride.

“And I had a partner that worked with you.”

Geoff skips a step, the short sentence throwing him off. There’s no way, right? No fucking way in hell that it could be him because he dropped off the map three years ago.

And yet, Geoff’s mind whispers. Who else could it be? It’s not like the Fake AH Crew have worked jobs with many others – all mercenaries and hired guns, who’s names are fake and forgotten among the crash of the city.

As if he can read Geoff’s mind, the man laughs. “I know, right? How the mighty have fallen.”

“You’re Brownman? But you’re just a kid-”

“I’m twenty-one,” he snaps. “And it doesn’t matter who I was. I’m not Brownman anymore. I’m not anyone anymore.”

“If you say so,” Geoff shrugs but the cogs in his mind are turning. This is a person he could use in his crew.

“Isn’t this how Burnie recruited you?” Jack asks skeptically. They’re inside the penthouse now, watching Brownman devour the contents of their refrigerator.

“Not exactly?” Geoff shrugs. “Burnie had a Joel.”

Jack doesn’t miss the slight wince when he says Joel’s name and she bumps his shoulder with hers. “Wasn’t he in town recently?”

“It’s been five years, Jack. He comes around sometimes, but if he wanted to see me, he would. Whatever was between us isn’t there anymore.”

Jack scoffs but before Geoff can do anything more than let out an indignant snort she directs his attention to their visitor.

“Do you really expect that you can just pick him off the streets and remake him into the man he used to be?” she asks. “There’s no way it’s gonna be that easy.”

“Maybe not,” Geoff shrugs. “When I joined the Roosters, I figured I’d be dead within a week. Instead, I helped build that gang up until it was one of the biggest in the city.”

“Inspirational,” Jack says.

“Brownman could have the same story,” Geoff argues.

“You talking shit about me?” Brownman calls, his mouth full of food. “Because let me join in if you are.”

“How would you like to work for the Fake AH Crew?” Geoff asks abruptly.

“As what, your druggie mascot?” Brownman laughs. “No thanks.”

“We could pay you,” Geoff steps in front of him.

Brownman looks him up and down. “Probably,” he agrees.

“Then what have you got to lose?”

Brownman’s brow furrows and for a second he looks so very young. “Don’t you ever feel guilty?” Before Geoff can answer, he keeps talking. “Because maybe you’ve grown out of it, but I sure as hell haven’t.”

“Guilty for what?” Geoff asks, even though he thinks he already knows the answer.

“The dead people. I’ve killed a lot of people - it’s in the job description. Doesn’t make me feel any better about it. You wanted to know what I have to lose?” he looks at the chicken in front of him like it holds the secret to the universe. “Let’s just say I don’t want to find out.”

“I don’t think guilt is something you really grow out of,” Jack says. She’s come up behind Geoff and as she talks she leans her head onto his shoulder. “I think you just learn to deal with it.”

“How do you? Deal with it I mean?” Brownman asks and despite himself, Geoff is curious too.

Jack laughs. “I take my fastest car and drive until I run out of gas.”

“I drink a lot,” Geoff offers. “But I’ve found that Halo helps too,” he adds after Jack elbows him in the side.

Brownman stays quiet for a while. “Would you take me for a drive sometime?” he asks quietly.

Jack nods and Geoff can feel her smiling. “So long as you don’t mind going way, way over the speed limit.”

Brownman doesn’t join the Fakes right away. First, he gets sober which is a long and exhausting process. During it, Geoff regrets pulling him off the side of the bridge far more than he admits.

Brownman gets whiney. And loud, and he’s better at pretty much every video game than Geoff which makes Geoff whiney too. Jack has no sympathy for him.

Eventually though, he makes it to the other side.

“Ray,” he mutters one day.

“What?” Geoff isn’t really paying attention; he’s trying to draft a bank robbery.

“My name. Ray.” And now Geoff is listening, head up and facing the other man. But Ray has already gone back to the 3DS Geoff stole for him, and is trying to look like nothing has happened at all.

A smile curls up Geoff’s lips. “Okay then,” he says and goes back to his plans.

Ray makes Geoff drive him to the north end of the city two weeks later.

“Where are we going?” Geoff asks.

“You'll see,” Ray replies. “Left,” he adds as an afterthought. 

“You gonna tell me what this super-secret awesome surprise is?” Geoff grumbles.

“You’ll see,” Ray insists. “Stop. The building on the right.”

The building in question is run down and a foreclosure sign hangs off the door. It looks like it might have been an apartment once-before it was taken over by mice and various other rodents.

“C'mon,” Ray says, getting out of the car.

“You sure whatever you’re looking for is even still here?” Geoff is hesitant to get close to the building. Places like that hold all sorts of unpleasant things. Like snakes. Geoff would very much not like to meet a snake today.

“It fucking better be or the building manager and I are gonna have some words.”

“What, you gonna threaten the rat in charge?”

“Shut up Geoff, and come on.”

Once inside they begin moving up flight after flight of stairs.

“Is there no goddamn elevator in this place?” Geoff grumbles. Ray ignores him.

They finally get to the roof (after climbing for what feels like an hour) and Ray heads over to an old air conditioning vent.

“Aha!” he crows triumphantly. “Got it!”

He whirls around to face Geoff and in his hand, is a large pink sniper rifle. Geoff quirks an eyebrow.

“Can you still use that thing?”

“Probably,” Ray shrugs. “Dare me to shoot that window over there.”

“No?”

“Okay boss, whatever you say.” Ray shrugs and lies on the roof, loading his rifle. “Man, I can’t believe you’re making me prove my skills like this.”

“I’m not?” Geoff questions. “You’ll bring the cops down on us you know.”

Instead of answering, Ray shoots the window three floors up from his initial target. “Eh, close enough. Told you I can still use it,” he pumps his fist in the air. “We should probably get out of here though, I have no idea what was behind that window.”

Police sirens wail in the distance and Geoff groans.

After Ray proves his abilities to Geoff (and later Jack, who insists on her own demonstration) he starts training with his gun again. Before long, he’s taken along on a heist (“They grow up so fast,” Jack sniffs, wiping a fake tear from her cheek. Geoff actually cries.) and word on the street gets out that Brownman is back and now he’s running with the up-and-coming Fake AH Crew as their sniper.

“We’ve been here for fucking ever, they can’t still call us up and coming,” Geoff grumbles as he enters the living room. They’re playing the news coverage of their most recent heist and it looks awesome.

“I know I am,” Ray crows from the couch, high fiving Jack as she sits down next to him. “Plus, don’t you have to have a certain kind of presence to get that real street cred?”

“Well more than two members would probably help with that,” Jack says, a grin playing around her face.

Nodding, Ray taps his DS screen frantically. “Yeah, probably,” he agrees.

Punching him in the shoulder, Geoff rolls his eyes. “Jack meant you, dipshit.”

Ray laughs. “What, I’m not officially in the crew already?”

“Now we get to haze you,” Geoff says, cackling with glee. Ray ignores him, already preoccupied with his game again but no one misses the smile on his face.

Chapter Text

Before the story moves along any farther, something needs to come to light in regards to our next introduction – mainly the fact that Gavin Free is a man Geoff has actually met before. Geoff was thirty-five at a very expensive party hosted by a local gang and Gavin was a young man on the arm of a famous drug lord. Four months after the party, the man he’d been with had been arrested and moved to a high security prison – but not before his bank accounts were drained.

Geoff meets Gavin for the second time at a party hosted by the Roosters, six months after Ray joins the Fakes officially. Burnie has roped them all into making an appearance, despite Ray’s best efforts at faking sickness. In all honesty, the event is one Geoff is enjoying. He gets a chance to catch up with his old “kids” (Miles an absence they all choose to ignore) as well as meet the new recruits.

“I’m not sure about that one,” Geoff whispers to Chris after watching the new muscle, Blaine, vomit into a vase.

“Nah he’s good. Not as good as Joel or Aaron but Joel – well, Joel’s always doing these fancy assassinations out of town and Aaron needs to sleep sometimes,” Chris blushes when Geoff waggles his eyebrows.

“Is sleep all he needs?” he chortles.

“Shut up Geoff,” Chris moans and elbows him. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

Geoff is still laughing to himself as he turns around - and then he bumps straight into someone going the opposite direction. A squawk sounds and Geoff grabs the arm of whoever he bumped into, effectively stopping them from toppling over.

“Sorry about that! I need to pay better attention to where I’m going,” a voice laughs and Geoff smiles too.

“It’s alright dude,” he pauses a second. “Where you from? You don’t sound local.”

“Across the pond,” the voice jokes and Geoff actually looks at him for the first time. He’s a skinny thing, all bones really, with dirty blonde hair. Golden sunglasses flash when the other man throws his head back to laugh.

“Geoff Ramsey,” Geoff figures he might as well introduce himself. “Nice to meet you.”

A smirk flashes over the man’s lips, so quick Geoff dismisses it as a trick of the light. “I’m Gavin. Gavin Free,” he replies. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He looks Geoff over and gives a groan. “I didn’t even notice, I spilt your drink all over you! God, I’m so sorry.”

In his haste to get Geoff cleaned up, Gavin grabs a couple napkins and starts frantically mopping at Geoff’s shirt. His hands move clumsily over Geoff’s body, accidentally coming to a rest directly on his chest.

“I,” Gavin’s cheeks are pink. “I’m just gonna go back to my date now.”

He slips away into the crowd and Geoff is left standing, feeling like an idiot and not entirely sure why. Chris pops back up next to him, grinning.

“Who was that, huh?” he asks. “Didn’t realize there was something I could tease you about too.” He squints after Gavin. “Wait who was that?”

“Gavin,” Geoff says, his mouth dry. “Gavin Free.”

The third time Geoff meets Gavin is in his favourite bar. Later, Geoff will realize the meeting was not an accident, but right now he’s focused on drinking copious amounts of alcohol. No one’s around to babysit him – Jack and Ray are planning a heist back at the penthouse. Geoff snuck out before they could make him help.
“The usual,” he says to the bartender, slumping down in one of the barstools.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” a familiar voice sounds from next to him and Geoff sits back up.

“Gavin?”

“In the flesh.”

Gavin sounds much more tired than the last time Geoff saw him. He looks worn down, far less of the Golden Boy Geoff met previously. Even his sunglasses are gone, revealing dark bags under his eyes.

Geoff can’t help but be concerned for him. “You okay dude?”

“Yeah, just,” Gavin hesitates for the briefest moment. “Remember how I had a date? When I spilt my drink all over you?”

Geoff nods.

“Turns out he wasn’t so great after all,” Gavin sighs. “He got arrested a few days ago. Human trafficking.”

Geoff can’t help but wince. They’re criminals and he’s not afraid to admit it, but everyone has a limit. You have to have some kind of moral code, a stopping point. The people who don’t? Aren’t the people Geoff wants to associate with.

“I know,” Gavin lets out a sad laugh. He’s noticed Geoff’s wince. “The party where I met you, that was just our first date but still.” He shudders.

“Well, let me buy you a drink then,” Geoff says. The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“Really?” Gavin perks up. “Thanks, Geoffrey.”

“Geoff,” he lets out a surprised laugh. No one’s called him Geoffrey since Allen Helding. “Please, just Geoff.”

“Geoffers? Goeff? Geoffrederick?” Gavin’s lips quirk up into a smile. “No nicknames at all?”

“What was that last one?” Geoff hoots with laughter.

The night continues that way, both getting drunker as it goes on. At two or three in the morning the bartender kicks them out and they stumble down the street, clinging to each other. Gavin’s singing what Geoff thinks might be Coldplay but he’s honestly too drunk to tell. Without even thinking about it, they end up in front of the penthouse.

“Come in!” Geoff exclaims. For some reason, that’s the funniest thing Gavin’s ever heard and he starts laughing so hard he’s barely staying upright. Geoff snickers as well.

“Okay!” Gavin says, and they somehow get in the elevator, a mess of limbs and laughter. The ride feels much longer than it usually does but Geoff doesn’t pay it too much mind, focused on getting his keycard out of his wallet – a daunting task when the world is spinning the way it is.

The door pops open and Geoff practically falls through it. He hits the ground hard and rolls over, laughing uproariously. Gavin is leaning against the doorframe, shaking with silent laughter.

“Geoff?” At the sound of Jack’s voice, Geoff looks up.

“That’s why the lights are on!” he yells. “Gavin I – stop, Gavin I figured out why the lights are on.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Ray groans from somewhere behind Jack. “Not it?”

“Nope,” Jack says, striding over to Geoff and pulling him upright. “You take him,” she thrusts Geoff at Ray and he stumbles over to him. Geoff doesn’t think the look of irritation on Ray’s face is something he’s imagining. “I’ll take whoever Geoff brought home.”

Even drunk, Geoff knows he’s in deep shit.

Next morning, he wakes up with a skull-splitting headache. Ray was clearly not feeling kind enough to leave him an aspirin or glass of water, so, Geoff goes to the kitchen. Ray and Jack are already there, and neither of them look particularly happy to see him.

Geoff offers his best grimace. “Morning?”

Jack snorts and slides a glass of water to him. “Shut up Geoff.” Ray is trying to look bored but Geoff can see the smile he’s hiding behind his DS.

“Yeah, laugh at my pain,” he grumbles. “Real funny Ray.”

“Not my fault you got drunk,” Ray shrugs. “There’s a reason I only mess with the good stuff. Messed,” he amends at Jack’s raised eyebrow.

“Did I,” Geoff pauses. “Did I bring someone back with me?”

Instead of answering him, Ray points towards the couch. “Now that guy is a real asshole,” he says.

“We caught him early this morning, his pockets full of heist plans. Last time I checked, trustworthy people don’t do that,” Jack says. “Who is this guy?”

“His name’s Gavin Free,” Geoff screws his eyes shut for a moment. “Wait, he was stealing heist plans?”

Ray and Jack nod in tandem. “Uh, he’s waking up now,” Ray says, glancing at the sofa. “Do you want me to like, knock him out? I could probably do that.”

“No,” Geoff replies. “Let’s go have a chat.”

Gavin is sprawled on the sofa. Despite Ray’s announcement of him waking up he looks sound asleep, so Geoff pokes him hard in the side. “Stop faking,” he grumbles. “We’re not stupid.”

Gavin shoots him a dirty look. “You seemed pretty goddamned stupid last night. Honestly, inviting me in?”

“I was drunk!” Geoff protests. “I’m guessing you weren’t.”

“I’m good,” Gavin shrugs. “So what now? Are you going to beat me? Torture me, to find out my other victim’s secrets?” His eyes glint. “Kill me?”

“Real cheerful, this guy,” Ray mutters and Jack chokes out a laugh.

“What exactly do you do?” she asks. “Seduce people for information?”

Gavin snickers. “Usually it’s harder than last night was.”

Geoff grumbles indistinctly.

“People like to feel loved, they like to feel trusted. They’ll believe anything if they’re desperate enough and then you can clean up with your winnings,” Gavin says.

“Your ex wasn’t a human trafficker,” Geoff realizes and Gavin waves his hand.

“Technicalities. Anyway, according to the system he is, and that’s all that matters.”

Geoff shakes his head, but his brain is whirring. “So if you’ve never been caught before, that must mean you’re pretty good.”

“Like I said,” Gavin replies. Jack looks over to him and she immediately seems to catch on to what he’s thinking.

“Oh hell no,” she says.

“What?” asks Ray. “What did I miss?” He glances over at Geoff and lets out an “oh.” “Yeah, that’s a bad idea.”

“What?” Gavin looks confused.

“He fooled me!” Geoff argues, ignoring Gavin entirely. “I’d rather have that in our corner!”

“What do you –” Gavin is cut off by Jack, who is gesturing angrily.

“You’re crazy!” she half laughs. “Geoff, I know you’re fond of lost causes – no offense Ray – but this guy was literally going to sell us out to everyone and anyone he could think of. He could have destroyed months’ worth of hard work! You’re not seriously thinking of doing what you look like you’re thinking of!”

“Can someone tell me –” this time it’s Ray who interrupts Gavin.

“Geoff usually I’d just say fuck it, right? But this seems like a really bad idea. This is like you Geoffing it, except you’re Geoffing our whole gang,” he says.

“Alright!” Gavin yells. “Will everyone shut up and tell me what you’re talking about?”

Ray turns to him, a wounded expression on his face. “You can’t talk to us like that. You’re the bad guy here.”

Before Jack can say anything, Geoff starts talking. “So, Gavin, how do you feel about working for the Fake AH Crew?”

“Geoff,” Jack says. She’s mad, he can tell, but he has a feeling about this. It’s like when he first brought Chris up to the Roosters penthouse so many years ago. He knows this kid could be great.

Gavin is laughing. “You must be absolutely mental,” he says. “You want me to work for the crew I just tried to screw over?”

Geoff shrugs. “What have you got to lose?”

“Exactly!” Still chuckling, Gavin sticks a hand out for Geoff to shake. “You’re a bloody idiot.”

Jack and Geoff leave Ray to watch over Gavin. She drags him into the side bedroom, glaring dangerously. “Geoff,” she hisses. “Are you insane?”

“We’ll have someone with him every second,” Geoff says. “He’ll have no phone or connection to the outside world, no way to pass information. We’re not going to let him leave the penthouse.”

“So you’ve won us a hostage,” Jack sighs. “This doesn’t help us! At all!”

“I have a feeling,” Geoff tells her. He leans in. “Gavin Free is going to help us get an edge in this city – we just need to crack his walls. Let him make some friends.”

Jack scoffs. “You don’t think his name is actually Gavin Free do you? There’s no way. No one’s dumb enough to use their real name when conning people.”

Chapter Text

Over the course of Gavin’s four months of “rehabilitation” (a nicer word than some of Ray’s suggestions), he steals twelve burner phones, three laptops, an x-box and a camera to try and communicate information that will bring the Fake AH Crew down. He tries to escape the penthouse seventeen times.

He’s also a snarky, miserable fuck. Initially, Gavin seems to have the mentality that escape will be a simple task – and when that is proved wrong he sulks. As well as that, the clumsiness displayed the previous times Geoff had met him was not faked. Gavin has the tendency to fall over just about anything and Ray finds it hilarious – Geoff is less amused once Gavin has broken his fourth vase. If you ask Jack, she’ll tell you he did it on purpose.

By the end of the first month, Ray and Gavin get along fairly well. There is an obvious lack of trust between the two (for good reason) but they have a similar sense of humour. For his part, Geoff doesn’t mind Gavin’s company. He’s aware that the other man is trying to build trust to be allowed to leave the penthouse – contrary to popular belief, he’s not stupid – but Gavin is entertaining enough.

Jack however, is not having it. She barely speaks to Geoff, let alone Gavin. She is silently furious and everyone is uncomfortably aware of it – even Ray which is a feat.

The second month creeps by and it becomes obvious that something needs to be done about the situation. Jack and Geoff try to rob a convenience store and Geoff almost gets shot in the shoulder – he sees Miles among the cops that are chasing them down and it doesn’t exactly help calm the atmosphere.

“Alright,” he says once they’ve gotten away from the police. “We’re talking about this, now.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Jack mutters. “You’re not going to change anything.”

“Jack,” Geoff says. “Please. Tell me how I can make this work out.”

“You can shoot Free in the head like you should have done two months ago!” Jack shouts. “Shouldn’t that be fucking obvious by now Geoff?”

“Well you do it then!” Geoff yells back, angry now. “Just shoot him in cold blood. It’s not like you haven’t done it before!”

He regrets those words the second they’re out of his mouth. Jack hates taking lives. They don’t talk about it, though sometimes he hears her and Ray talking in hushed murmurs, ones that fade out when he enters the room (killing is something Geoff has become used to over the years – something necessary, unavoidable. Easy.)

Her mouth sets into a thin line and she turns away from him.

“Shit,” Geoff mumbles. “Jack I’m sorry.”

“I can’t handle him being there, don’t you get that? I can’t trust him.” Her voice gets smaller. “I lost my family twice Geoff. My parents, then you. I don’t think I could lose it a third time.”

“I-” Geoff feels numb. “Shit,” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Jack says, looking back at him. “I don’t want him dead. I just want to keep you and Ray safe, and I can’t do that so long as someone who would sell us out for a blowjob lives in our apartment.”

Geoff snorts. They sit in silence for a while, Geoff sorting through a mess of thoughts. “I’ve always had a thing for lost causes,” he says.

“No kidding.” Jack lets out a dry laugh.

“If you want him gone, if you really want him dead then do it. I’ll dump the body with you. Won’t say a word. But don’t ask me to kill him, because I won’t do that. Not while I think there’s a chance he could do better.”

Jack remains quiet for a while, and then out the corner of his eye Geoff sees her nod.

The third month passes and Gavin stays alive and cooped up in their apartment. Jack even talks to him sometimes.

Geoff and Gavin have become – well they’ve become something. It’s a weird paternal sort of relationship (except Gavin’s tried to make out with him a couple times – seduction is one of his many escape strategies.)

It’s weird. Now that three months have gone by, Gavin’s more open with everyone but it’s not the same kind of openness. Now it’s almost accidental – usually Gavin looks furious once he’s said something personal. Geoff keeps catching himself doing the same thing – he made a joke about Allen Helding to Gavin once.

Geoff never talks about Allen Helding except with Jack (and once upon a time, Joel, but that’s an old wound best left alone.)

Gavin mentions a man called Dan at one point, and then he doesn’t talk to anyone for an entire week. As soon as the name slips out, in some offhand comment about other gangs, his entire body tenses up. Geoff arches an eyebrow but before he can open his mouth, Gavin disappears into the kitchen.

For once, Geoff lets him go alone.

Geoff kicks the fourth month off by overhearing a conversation he shouldn’t.

It’s the first time he’s heard Jack speak a sentence longer than “pass the salt” to Gavin directly, so maybe he was a little curious. He would have assumed she was speaking to Ray, except he knows for a fact that Ray is tearing through the Halo 2 campaign for the third time which basically leaves one option.

Don’t do it, Geoff thinks. The voice in his head sounds a lot like Burnie. This is none of your business.

But what if it turns bad? You should be around to help, right? A different voice pipes up. This one sounds like Geoff, which is an issue that can be tackled some other time (so what if the proverbial devil on his shoulder is himself? Geoff’s always done better around other people.)

Regardless of the Burnie whispering in his ear, Geoff decides to stay. Jack’s been saying something the whole time he’s had this inner debate and he only catches the tail end of it, but it’s enough.

“and I can’t, I can’t trust you with this family,” she finishes. “Not with who you are.”

“I don’t want to be trusted with this family!” Gavin hisses angrily. “I had a family, a damn good one at that. I don’t want you around and if you let me out of here I’ll sell you out immediately – or I would have four months ago!” His voice lowers slightly. “Now it’s all wrong.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jack asks, her voice accusatory.

“I don’t know,” Gavin says, defeated. “Four months ago you were all a bunch of idiots who let me into your home and now you’re still idiots but I would-I would feel bad! Selling you out! I could get over it, but stilll.”

“That’s reassuring,” she snorts. “You’d throw us to the dogs, but at least you’d feel sorta guilty for a few days after.”

“You don’t get it,” Gavin says. “I haven’t spent this much time with a group of people for two years. There’s a reason I do this job alone-attachments are dangerous. If you let me go and I don’t sell you out, then people can target you to get to me. And that sounds like a pain in the arse to handle.”

“So why don’t you join the Fake AH Crew?” Jack asks. “Sounds like a good way to nip that in the bud.”

He laughs. “With you threatening to rip my guts out every other day? No thanks.”

“Prove I can trust you and I won’t need to.”

There’s quiet for a few minutes. “What if I don’t want a family?” his voice is small now.

“I didn’t at first,” Jack says. “When Geoff left I was alone for a long time, and I liked it that way. But then he showed up in that fucking bar, and talked me into a heist, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed having him around until I got him back. Now there’s Ray too, and I couldn’t give them up for anything.”

“I know exactly how much I miss my family,” Gavin snaps. “I get to see him paraded around Los Santos all the time.”

“That’s Daniel Gruchy, right?” Jack asks.

“How do you know that name?”

“I did some looking into you when Geoff first suggested you be in the crew. There wasn’t a lot, but people mentioned him a few times.”

“Dan was-is-the closest thing I have to a brother. He stuck his nose in somewhere he shouldn’t have and now he’s stuck with the Ballas.”

“What if we got him back?” Jack says.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Gavin sounds weary. “This crew can’t take on a network like the Ballas.”

“Not yet,” Jack retorts. “But someday.”

“You despise me though.” It’s not a question.

“I hate what you tried to do to my people, not who you are. If I can stop it from happening I will.”

Gavin doesn’t say anything, but Geoff has heard enough. He slips away from the doorway before they can catch him, and goes back to the living room, to Ray.

“What took you so long?” Ray questions.

“Has Gavin ever told you about a Daniel Gruchy?” Geoff asks instead.

Ray pauses his game for a moment. “I’ve heard the name in passing?” he shrugs. “Gavin looked pretty upset once he said it though.”

“Huh,” Geoff says.
“Gonna tell me why you’re asking?” Rays looks him up and down, and when Geoff has no answer he sighs and passes Geoff the spare controller. “I’m achievement hunting, help me get through this level without dying.”

Whatever else happened in the room with Jack and Gavin, Geoff doesn’t know, but he notices this – after that conversation something shifts in the house. Gavin and Jack seem to reach an uneasy peace – they are by no means friends, but they at least seem to get along. It’s a week later before things really start changing.

“I’m gonna go to the store,” Jack announces. “Gavin?”

Ray and Gavin look over from the couch.

“Uh,” Ray says. “What?” He turns to Gavin for an answer. “You’re allowed to leave the house now?”

“What?” Gavin asks.

“Come on,” Jack answers. She holds the door open expectantly. From the loveseat, Geoff is staring in open-mouthed shock.

“Well we can’t let him join Fake AH if he’s just gonna sit in the fucking living room and play superheroes with Ray. There needs to be some trust, and I figure I should be the one to take him outside first, seeing as I trust him the least,” Jack sounds rational, but Geoff’s still not sure what’s going on.

“Who are you and what did you do with Jack?” he scoffs.

“Shut up Geoff,” says Jack. “Gavin?”

“Uh,” Gavin has not moved from the couch. “Alright?”

As they leave, Ray turns to Geoff. “What the fuck just happened?” he shouts.

“I don’t know!”

“Is Jack gonna fucking kill him?”

“What the fuck!” Geoff says instead of replying because he honestly does not know if Jack will kill Gavin or not (conversation he overheard a few days’ prior be damned.) “She probably won’t, right?”

“Should we follow them?” Ray asks.

“That’s,” Geoff pauses. “Not a bad idea,” he says slowly. “Plus, that way we can catch Gavin if he tries to make a break for it.”

Deep down inside, a Burnie voice screams at him to leave Jack’s business well enough alone. If it’s anything to do with what he overheard it’s really, really not his place but, well, Ray has a point. If Gavin makes a break for it and Jack tries to kill him, they should probably be around to help.

“Fuck it,” Geoff grumbles. He grabs a pistol off his desk. “C’mon Ray, time to make sure no one shoots up a grocery store.”

They have been following Jack’s car from a distance for twenty minutes and thus far the most interesting thing that’s happened was Geoff running a red light to make sure he didn’t lose them. Finally, Jack and Gavin pull off into a grocery parking lot. Geoff waits five minutes, then he and Ray get out of the car and follow them into the store.

“Is this creepy?” Ray mumbles as they slide into the 24-hour grocery. The two of them have dark sunglasses on, and Ray had to be talked out of his fake handlebar mustache (“C’mon, I could rock this thing! Looks better than your shitty stubble anyways.”)

“Nah,” Geoff replies. “Well maybe a little but we’re doing it for the good of the people, right? So, we’re good, no grey morality here.”

They creep around the store for a while and despite their less-than-stellar disguises, Jack and Gavin don’t seem to notice them which is. Well. Geoff’s gonna have to have a talk about situational awareness at some point.

“This is the most boring thing in the world I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Ray moans as they watch Jack and Gavin in the cereal aisle. “They’re not even picking up Froot Loops! I bet Jack’s doing it because I beat her at Halo what the fuck.”

“This was your idea, dumbass.” Geoff swats at Ray, who snorts indignantly.

“Yeah, well I didn’t think you’d go through with it,” he hisses. “I’m sorry I couldn’t predict just how much you’ve lost your mind.”

“We should probably go, I think they’re headed for the checkout,” Geoff says. “I feel like if we get caught, I’ll end up retiring early.”

“If we get caught Jack’s gonna rip our dicks off,” Ray translates.

They beat the other pair home by ten minutes and high-five triumphantly. (Then they spend ten minutes frantically trying to appear busy and unsuspicious.)

And that’s….. that really. Geoff keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Gavin to run away or show up strangled on the beach but it never happens. Eventually, he goes out alone, and to Geoff’s shock – he comes back. Whatever deal he and Jack struck (something Ray seems to be in on now) Gavin is sticking to it. Eventually, Geoff hears the Daniel Gruchy story officially, and he has a startling revelation.

Gavin is sort of family now.

Chapter Text

They’re celebrating Gavin’s third successful heist. He’d been getting to know the housekeeper of an incredibly rich socialite living near Chilliad for weeks and finally, he’d gotten the password for the security system protecting the house (Gavin’s skill set was repurposed once he started properly working as a Fake. He’s their information gatherer, their fly on the wall. It’s an unusual combination of abilities – a little bit of hacking, pastry making, a few other bits and bobs. Whatever he needs to gain people’s trust.) They’d broken in, the four of them a virtually flawless unit and cleaned the place out. And drawn a dick on a Monet.

Everyone gets a little over-bevved post-heist. Usually the Fakes’ll throw a ridiculous party as an excuse to flaunt but sometimes you’ve just gotta sit back and relax with your crew instead.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Gavin opens. “So someone gives you a million dollars –”

“We already have more than a million dollars,” Jack points out, but Gavin shushes her.

“You get a million dollars, but the head of your penis is a crab claw. Would you do it?”

Geoff roars with laughter and Ray immediately voices his agreement.

“Fucking yeah I would,” he snorts. “Clack clack ladies.”

Raising her hand, Jack pokes holes in Gavin’s argument. “What if we don’t have a penis?”

“Hmm.” Gavin looks thoughtful.

“Stop,” coughs Geoff. “I can’t breathe.” He’s sent off on a fresh bout of laughter when the doorbell rings – which is enough to bring silence down in an instant. No one rings the doorbell of a criminal gang.

In an unspoken moment of unison, they grab guns and move towards the door. The bell rings again.

Jack goes up to the door and pulls it open, training her gun on their unexpected guest.

“Whoa! I’m not here to kill you.”

“That’s reassuring,” Geoff mumbles and then he gets a good look at who was behind the door.

A young woman is standing there, but he barely even sees her. She’s holding a body in her arms, someone limp and unmoving. If it wasn’t for the slight rise and fall of their chest, he’d assume the woman was holding a corpse.

“Geoff Ramsey, right? I need your help,” she says. The head of the body falls to one side.

Though he’s nearly unrecognizable – coated in blood and guts and six years older than the last time Geoff saw him – those curls are unmistakable.

“What the fuck are you doing with Mogar?” Jack snarls.

Behind them, Ray runs into the bathroom. Distantly, Geoff hears him vomit.

“What the hell,” Gavin breathes.

“He said you’d be able to help him, but he passed out on the way over here. I need you to help him,” the woman takes a step forwards. “He’s going to die.”

Geoff takes her to a kid he knows. Normally, he’d be at Griffon’s in a heartbeat but she’s out of the city and they obviously can’t go to the hospital. Caleb is his best option.

The woman comes along, and so does Jack. Gavin’s looking after Ray – stopping him from doing anything stupid. (Jack’s filled Gavin in on almost every messy aspect of what happened before the crew – sometimes it’s a pain in the ass but in situations like this it’s useful. It’s been years since Ray has seen Mogar and he’s never talked about what happened between them. Everyone’s a little on edge.)

Caleb Denecour lives close to their penthouse. He’s a nursing student Geoff’s known for years – he dealt for the Roosters back when Geoff still worked with them. The Fake AH Crew funds his education in exchange for his help when they need it.

“Geoff it’s almost two a.m.” Caleb is bleary eyed when he opens the door but seems to quickly snap awake. “Lindsay?”

The woman (Lindsay, apparently) shoulders her way into the apartment. She hasn’t let go of Michael this whole time. “I didn’t know you were still in the city,” she replies.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I stuck around.”

“He’s been badly hurt.” Jack interrupts their reunion. “What do you need to fix him?”

Caleb’s eyes flicker to Mogar, limp in Lindsay’s arms. “Another set of hands, probably. I’ve got equipment – what exactly happened?”

Geoff looks at Lindsay, who looks suddenly guarded. “I found him. He was barely conscious, just told me to take him to Geoff Ramsey.” She looks to Geoff. “He said you’d help him.”

There are gaps in her story, but Geoff’s not in the mood to point them out right now.

“Okay.” Caleb nods. “Jack, with me. We’re gonna patch him up. You two – we’re gonna be a while. Make yourselves busy elsewhere.”

In Geoff’s mind, sitting on a dirty couch in stunned silence is not the best case of making one’s self busy but he’s not sure how to do much else. He keeps side-eyeing Lindsay, waiting for her to say something.

“Who are you?” Geoff asks, suddenly impatient with his waiting game.

“You know my name,” Lindsay replies. “That not enough?”

“Okay fine. How do you know Mogar, Lindsay?”

“I forget he used to go by that name,” she murmurs. “That was years ago.”

Geoff hums. “I only met him once, you know. I’m surprised he even remembered me.”

“A Rooster, then leader of the Fake AH Crew? I’d imagine you’d make quite the impression.” Lindsay bites her lip, then looks over at him. “We’re old friends, Mi-Mogar and me. He’s saved my life on more than one occasion. Guess it was time to repay the favour.”

“Still not hearing who you actually are.”

“I’m a lot of things,” she replies. “You’ve heard of most of them. I worked for the Roosters when I was a kid. That’s how I met Caleb. I was a hired mugger – a bully, really.”

“Why don’t I know you, then?” Geoff asks. He did his best to meet everyone who worked under them.

“I used a different name. I was scared word would get back to my parents.”

From the other room, Caleb lets out a violent curse. It’s loud enough to make them both jump, and then stand in unison.

“Should we...” Lindsay trails off when Jack enters the room.

“He’s stable,” she assures them, not even offering a chance for them to open their mouths. “Caleb dropped a scalpel on his toe, that was the noise.” She moves towards Lindsay and offers a hand to shake. “We didn’t properly introduce ourselves. My name is Jack Pattillo.”

“Lindsay.” She takes the proffered hand.

Geoff sticks his own hand out. “Geoff Ramsey, but you already knew that.”

Lindsay gives a strong handshake. It’s the kind you notice. “Yep.”

There’s awkward silence for a bit, and then Lindsay takes a deep breath, and starts speaking.

“I’m a freelancer. People hire me for a lot of things – planning jobs, playing backup, being the getaway driver. I go all over the country, but I got hired for a cleanup job back in the city. That’s why I’m here. My employer changed my instructions yesterday – said I’d have to finish the job and perform the cleanup, but promised me an extra bonus for the murder.”

“Mogar was the job,” Geoff says.

“Yeah. I wasn’t gonna kill him, obviously, but Los Santos isn’t my home. I don’t have many contacts here and I didn’t know where was safe. He told me Geoff Ramsey, so I came to you.”

“So you know who hired you to take out Mogar? You know who did this?” Jack takes a half step forwards, like she’s willing to fight Lindsay for the information if needed.

“I know who did it. I’m trying to decide if I can trust you to help or not.” Lindsay nods once – Geoff’s not sure at what – and leaves to the kitchen, where Caleb has retreated to. There’s a hushed murmur of conversation that floats out of the door, but he doesn’t strain to listen.

“You trust her?” Jack asks, keeping her voice low.

Geoff shakes his head. “I don’t know. She saved Mogar, that counts for something.”

“Maybe,” Jack mutters. “But why wouldn’t she just tell us who hired her, so we can take care of it?”

“I think she wants to take care of them herself.”

Jack chews her bottom lip. “No,” she decides. “We’re not playing that game. She doesn’t get to just, just cut us out. Mogar came to us.” And at this, Jack looks up at him with something like vulnerability.

Geoff’s cell starts ringing. It’s Gavin.

“Ray,” Gavin says, breathless and worried. “He’s gone.”

They leave Mogar unconscious and healing with Caleb, because what else can they do? Ray is, Ray is theirs.

Gavin is a nervous wreck when they get back. “I didn’t mean to lose him! He was on the couch, and he wouldn’t talk to me and I stepped out for a second, I swear, and then he just.” Gavin gestures fruitlessly. “Vanished.”

“Calm down,” Jack says. “We’ll find him, okay Gavin?” She grabs him by the shoulder and sits him down on the couch. “We’re going to find him.”

Lindsay elbows Geoff’s side. “Can you show me a picture of him? I might be able to track him down – I have a couple connections in the city.”

Geoff hesitates for a moment, but this is one of their own here. And Lindsay – she saved Mogar’s life (which should count for something, right? That's what he said to Jack.) “Here,” he says, thrusting his phone at her. From there, he moves off into the apartment, keeping an eye out for anything Ray left behind, any note or marking. There’s nothing for a few minutes until–

“Found him.”

Everyone snaps to attention. “How?” Gavin asks, halfway to standing.

“There’s a woman I know in the city, she got me the intel,” Lindsay replies, and there’s just a half second of hesitation before she continues. “You’d know her as Weiss.”

Geoff’s eyebrows damn near shoot off his head at that (Weiss is a member of the RWBY crew, an international assassin group) and yet, all he does is hustle Jack and Gavin down to the garage. “You still on the phone with, with Weiss?” he asks Lindsay, who’s trailing a few meters behind.

“Yeah, she spotted him on a traffic camera on Kingston,” Lindsay replies.

“Don’t hang up, I want constant eyes making sure he’s safe.”

Lindsay stops. “Geoff?” she calls. “Weiss is telling me there’s someone with him. She can’t make out the other guy’s face.”

“Well then let’s get a bloody fucking move on,” Gavin snaps from the backseat of Jack’s Zentorno.

The car engine revs and Geoff throws himself into the open door, letting Lindsay take the front seat so she can navigate. They peel out, going near-double the speed limit, but it’s late enough that the police will take a while to notice.

“Alright, Brownman and whoever he’s with have swung onto Coal, hang a left,” Lindsay instructs.

“I know how to drive,” Jack says, tension thick. Lindsay sits back without complaint. A few minutes pass in near silence and suddenly Geoff notices something.

“There,” Geoff says, and jumps out of the car as soon as he’s sure he’ll be able to stick the landing. Ray’s back is turned.

The mystery companion Lindsay described is facing away as well, but they’re both moving quickly up the street. Geoff draws his gun – if this gets ugly, he’ll shoot first, ask for names and faces later. Ray is crew.

The headlights go dark as Jack shuts off the ignition and he suddenly feels blind. There’s just the streetlights to see by, and half of them are dead or broken, bulbs shot in gunfights or police chases. (Never let it be said that Los Santos tries to pretend to be anything but what it is.) So, Geoff moves slowly and carefully, listening to his crew fall into position behind him. Gavin’s a terrible shot, but Jack’s not half bad and if Lindsay is who he thinks she is she’ll more than make up for them both. (Assuming she doesn’t turn on Geoff instead, which is a fair thought considering he is letting a stranger cover his back what is he thinking.)

When he’s maybe fifteen feet behind Ray, the two stop and Geoff doesn’t bother slowing down.

“Ray,” he starts, but whatever else he had planned catches in his throat when they turn around.

Joel Heyman hasn’t aged a goddamn day.

(Isn’t that the most frustrating part? Geoff looks like it’s been twenty fucking years since the last time they saw each other in person but Joel is just. The same. It pulls something in his chest, something unresolved and bitter and Geoff can’t help the scowl that crawls onto his face. Doesn’t try to change it into anything else.)

Jack steps past him and grabs Ray by the shoulder, pulling him into a deep, crushing hug. Gavin near throws himself into their circle and Ray is crew, Geoff should be right there with them but he can’t. Fucking. Move.

Joel clears his throat. “Hello Geoff. I was just, uh, walking with your friend here. He looked a little, um, down.”

“Six fucking years,” Geoff snorts. “And we meet by accident on fucking Coal street.”

“I should probably get going,” Joel mumbles, making a vague, aborted hand gesture.

Taking a half step forwards, Geoff shakes his head. “I could’ve shot you for all you knew, you fucking dumbass.”

“Guess I deserve that one,” Joel says.

“You cowardly, dipshit, fucking dickhead,” he tacks on.

Joel winces. “Those too.”

“Ramsey,” Lindsay says from behind him. “Caleb called me with an update. He says Mogar’s awake, and he wants to see you.”

“Okay,” sighs Geoff, fully turned away from Joel. “I’ll see you around Joel.”

“He’s already gone,” she says, almost apologetically.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “He’s good at that. Tell Caleb we’ll get there as soon as we can.”

“Got it.”

The group hug has become something more like a group pile on the ground. Ray is curled up in Jack’s arms and Gavin is sniffling the same way he did when the unofficial crew cat got hit by an out-of-control driver.

“Ray,” Geoff repeats, and the man looks up and offers him a half smile.

“Emotions are pretty icky-sticky if you know what I mean,” Ray offers.

Geoff collapses into their hug pile and clings tightly. “You’re all the worst idiots I’ve ever met,” he says, muffled by the way his face is pressing into Gavin’s hair. “Ray you have a huge target on your back, how could you ever be so goddamn stupid. Anyone could've taken the chance to take out a core Fake - and if you'd run into the police?”

“I got really scared?” he offers. “And, plus, Gavin can’t take all the stupid in the crew, it’s gotta be evenly divided.”

“We’re going to see Mogar, okay? And you’re gonna figure out some of your baggage because nothing good ever happens when you leave shit like this unresolved.”

“Hypocrite,” Jack snorts from somewhere inside Gavin’s armpit.

Gavin and Ray hum in assent – Jack filled them in on Geoff’s sorry love life ages ago, in a move of treachery like none he’s ever experienced before.

Eventually, Lindsay coughs awkwardly and the four of them manage to untangle themselves enough to pile into the car. Ray hesitates at the door, and Geoff squeezes his shoulder.

“It’s okay. We’ve got you. You’re crew.”

“Oh, no,” Ray replies distractedly. “I just don’t wanna sit in the middle seat – it’s the bitch seat.”

In the end, Gavin ends up in the bitch seat while Geoff reclaims shotgun (“I’m in charge of three quarters of you fucks, I get the good seat goddamnit.”) It’s a quiet drive to Caleb’s little apartment – over far too quickly for Ray to even pretend to look ready and it doesn’t give Geoff enough time to get over the fact that he has just seen Joel fucking Heyman and really just wants to go back to the penthouse and take a nap (it’s four a.m. he has to go to bed.)

The door swings open before Geoff can even knock on it.

“Spooky,” Ray comments half-heartedly.

“I’ve almost had to knock him out Lindsay, what the hell,” Caleb hisses. “I can’t treat a bullet wound if the stitches keep getting torn out by people who don’t know how to listen to their doctor. And he won’t even give me a name – denied Mogar, the one you told me. Said that was somebody else.”

“I’m just gonna wait in here for a little bit,” Ray mumbles and sits down on the couch. Gripping his arm like he expects his friend to fucking fly away, Gavin joins him.

“You talk with Mogar,” Jack says to Geoff. “I’ve got Ray.”

Lindsay lingers in the doorway, looking hesitant. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” she mutters, and slinks away.

Geoff and Jack exchange a look.

Mogar’s room is dark, except for a single lamp on his bedside. At first glance he looks asleep, but when the door shuts with a quiet click he’s instantly alert.

“Ramsey.” Mogar lights up. “That guy was telling the truth, then. Lindsay, she, she.” He stops, and grins at Geoff as best he can around all the bandages. “Thanks for saving my ass.”

“You gonna tell me what the fuck happened to have you showing up on my doorstep half-dead?” Geoff leans against the doorway. “Because if this is gonna come back to bite me in the ass I’d like to be prepared.”

Mogar’s lip curls unpleasantly. “A job I was running with my crew went south. I got out, but I guess I wasn’t supposed to because when I made it back to the hideout.” He gestures at his bandages. “Lindsay was waiting for me. She almost didn’t recognize me – but she did which is why I’m here.”

“She told me she was hired for cleanup that changed to murder at the last minute,” Geoff says.

“I’m pretty sure it was a setup,” he says. “I’ve been talking with a friend because I wanted out – leaving a crew like the Devils is hard to do but he said he could help me. Guess someone noticed my wavering loyalties.”

Geoff nods. “So, what are you gonna do now?”

“A while back I got a job offer,” Mogar says and offers another strained smile. “I’m hoping I’ll be able to accept it.”

“Before you do,” Geoff replies. “You might wanna talk to someone.”

He sticks his head out the door and calls out into the living room. “Get in here!”

There’s a soft sound of footsteps, and then Ray steps in. Mogar goes white and Geoff takes the chance to slip out the door, ruffling Ray’s hair as he goes. Right before he leaves, he hears Ray start to speak.

“Michael,” he says. “You’re uh, looking well.”

Chapter Text

When Michael Jones is twelve years old his mother dies in an explosion.

She was a construction worker in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was an accident. No one was supposed to get hurt.

And now she’s dead, and he can’t stop wondering how it happened.

(Quick? Maybe she was right next to the explosion, blown to bits before she even knew what was happening. Pieces of her strewn everywhere, and that’s why we didn’t have a funeral, because there was nothing to bury oh god, oh god, oh god -)

His dad is not the same afterwards. Cold, more like a statue than a father, and really, it was inevitable that Michael run away because he has no one else.

Twelve-year-olds don’t make it on the streets, but Michael’s not there for long. The start of his fourth night, a man comes and approaches him as he’s settling down to sleep.

“You need to come with me,” the man says, and Michael is on the verge of saying no, of snapping and starting a fight but he goes. He doesn’t come back.

Ray Narvaez Jr. shoots his first gun when he’s six. It’s a bb sniper, which, looking back, is ironic. He’s at a classmate’s birthday party, because they’re still at the age where you have to invite the whole class to your party or else you’re being “unfair.” (Twenty years later, Ray will remember every detail of this party. There’s blue icing on the cake. The birthday boy’s name is Kevin Stewart, and Ray’s mom helped him pick out a plastic helicopter as a gift.)

Ray gets home from his birthday party to find his dad’s dead body on the ground. His mother is covered in blood and he’s too young to really, really understand what is happening but he’s still crying while his mom tells him to pack his things. She drops him off with a group of strangers and they have a terrifying, hushed conversation Ray can’t hear – when he turns around she’s gone. Ray still has the toy bb gun they let him keep – it’s a plastic sniper rifle, and as part of the “party package” all the kids at the birthday got one. He doesn’t let go of it, which amuses the people his mom left him with.

He never sees his mother again, and never finds out why she murdered his father (he doesn’t need to know, he doesn’t want to know.)

The guy who told Michael to follow him is big, intimidating. Tattoos wind up and down his arms – Michael recognizes a triforce on his shoulder and it makes him feel stupidly at ease.

(How did she die, his mother? He hopes desperately that it was fast, that she barely felt it, but bombs are messy. Aren’t they? She always said her job was messy, complicated, whenever he asked. Dad never mentioned a body – but he wouldn’t’ve, he would never have told Michael. So, if there was a funeral -)

“We’re here,” Triforce grunts. When Michael doesn’t move from the backseat of his car, he makes an exasperated gesture. “Get out!” he adds, and Michael scrambles from the car before he says something he’ll regret.

He’s in a warehouse but past that... Michael’s in way over his head. Heart pounding, he backs up, but hits a wall-that-is-not-a-wall-but-in-fact-a-man.

“Come with me,” Not-a-wall tells him. He looks near identical to Triforce but thinner, and shorter. Michael can take this guy, if he needs to run. One quick kick to the balls and he’ll start sprinting – he’s fast, and good at hiding. Nobody would catch him.

Someone’s watching him – up in the rafters, there’s a kid who’s near-invisible in the shadows. He stares Michael in the eye, and slowly, deliberately, shakes his head.

Michael follows Not-a-wall down a hallway but keeps looking back until he turns a corner and the kid is out of his sight. Even then, he keeps glancing back.

The second time Ray shoots a gun, he’s being graded. There’s hushed mumbling in the background, but he’s not listening. All he knows is that his mother is coming back for him, she said she would, so he’s gotta hold on until then.

(What he doesn’t know at this point, is that his mother is halfway to Australia with a fake passport and a bad dye job. An investigation into his father’s death has been launched but once she lands she has contacts that will let her disappear.)

Ray’s hands shake when he lifts the plastic sniper – there’s blanket silence behind him (he’s six goddamn years old. He should be learning addition and subtraction.) The shot is lined up; Ray holds his breath.

He misses. He’s six years old. He can barely do four pushups in a row, and they expect what out of him? A perfect bullseye?

“What the hell,” mutters an audience member. “We should toss him out on the street.”

“He’s Teresa’s son,” someone replies. “He’ll deliver.”

Michael is taken to the boss. Turns out, he’s been slumming it on their turf and they’re not so happy with a twelve-year-old bum ruining their rep.

(But if her body was intact, if she was far enough away that she wasn’t blown to bits, how did she die? Did the building collapse on her? Was she suffocated, slowly, until the debris crushed her chest, or skull? What did she think about, while she was dying? The explosion, over and over again, things she could’ve done to survive?

Did she think about him?)

“So.” There are three people behind the desk and Michael can’t tell which one the boss is supposed to be. The woman in the middle is speaking to him – the other two haven’t said anything. “We’re gonna need payment for all the nights you’ve been staying without paying rent.”

“What?” Michael tenses. “I don’t have any fucking money, what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Mouthy,” the man on the left remarks.

“Spirited,” contradicts the one on the right.

They leave Ray alone for a couple years. Stick him in front of a PS2, or hand him a DS and abandon him for hours. Give him odd jobs like counting dollar bills or repainting a room he assumes is for storage (it’s not. The drain on the floor isn’t for water, isn’t in case it floods.)

It’s not bad, really. Someone with a triforce tattoo (he recognizes it because he was playing through the latest Zelda campaign with his dad before everything went all wrong) teaches him how to read and do some basic math and plays video games with him whenever he doesn’t want to play the solo campaign. He’s still waiting for his mother to come back. That’s all he really says to people (Ray was a quiet kid before his life went to hell. They’re lucky he speaks at all.)

It’s subtle, at first. All the games change and get more violent, which isn’t something he notices. He perfects those too and moves on to something else.

They give him a new bb gun (the old one was taken away) when he turns eight, and then he starts practice.

The bosses talk about what to do with him for a long time. They throw around all sorts of suggestions – some of which are terrifying. Michael doesn’t care how pink his lips are, or what kind of “youthfulness” clients might find appealing. He’s not even sure what that kind of talk means.

His patience wears thin.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I think?” he snaps with all the insolence a twelve-year-old can muster.

“How do you want to work off your debt, then?” The man on the left asks, laughing. “What are you good at?”

(Maybe she was at a midway point. Not near enough to be blown into mush, but she could have lost enough blood from the injuries that she just bled to death. Maybe he didn’t get to go to the funeral because her body was missing a limb, or three, and the adults decided he shouldn’t see her like that.)

“Explosions,” Michael blurts out. It’s the only thing he can seem to think about these days – figures it would fall out of his mouth when he’s not thinking.

Two years of Ray’s life pass by in a blur of shooting ranges. They give him a pistol when he’s nine (Ray overhears discussions of giving him a sniper when he turns eleven), and don’t let him have it anywhere but in his little soundproof room, where he sits and shoots at targets until he hits the bullseye (the bullseye, by the way is whatever Avery Monson decides it is that day. The head or chest, to kill. The leg, to slow down, if the target needs to stay alive.) Sometimes, Monson, who is the boss’s right-hand man – Ray has not yet met the boss and would like to keep it that way tells him to aim at the left pinky, or the big toe, just to see if he can hit it. Right now, there are more misses than hits, but Monson seems to think that’ll change. (The recoil from the pistol burns his hands but if he asked for gloves, they’d likely hit him, so he keeps his mouth shut until he learns to manage the pain.)

People avoid him, now. No one was that nice to him before, but now he’s the freak with a pistol, the kid who’s been getting hand-to-hand lessons on the side. He’s the gang’s secret weapon or will be one day.

He’s also ten now, which makes him a Big Kid, so he knows his mother isn’t coming back. Ray doesn’t say much of anything anymore – only to Triforce (whose real name is Kevin), when they play Zelda together. He likes to spend time up in the rafters of the warehouse, where no one can see him, or make him practice on the shooting range. It makes him feel less small, sitting up there. If he had a gun, he could pick off everyone strolling around one by one – no that’s Monson talking. That’s what the boss wants, and Ray is determined to want anything but what the boss wants. (He shouldn’t blame this gang for his mother’s disappearance, but he does, and that’s probably not going to change.)

He’s up in the rafters when they bring the new kid in. Ray’s been hearing whispers about someone crashing on their turf, but he never imagined it would be someone near his age. His eyes are glued to the stranger, who looks ready to bolt.

Without meaning to, Ray shakes his head – and realizes the new kid’s eyes are looking at him, soaking in his accidental warning. He disappears around a corner and is gone, but.

The last time Ray had friends was at a birthday party, when he was six years old.

He would like a friend.

When Michael says explosions, they laugh at him and stick him in a back alley, with enough cocaine to kill a man where he stands. He’s not supposed to come back until he makes enough money to be worth something.

He would run away but doesn’t think he’d make it a block. No one wants what he’s selling – he’s twelve, they see through him in a second. Think it’s fake product, all bullshit – one lady gives him a twenty and tells him to get his act together. Michael spits in her face and snarls like a wild thing, all teeth and flushed cheeks.

Luckily, his twenty is enough to make the boss (he’s sure the boss is the only lady of the bunch, but he can’t prove it) laugh, and even if being the crew joke makes his teeth grind he figures it gets him a bed for the night, and scraps of food. Better than nothing.

(What kind of bullshit is an accident, anyways? Sorry, we weren’t paying attention and your mom was blown to bits, but, you know, she probably understood that it was a risk what with the job! I bet she told you that, right kid?

No, because he’s twelve and no goddamn mother in the universe tells their kid they might die, who does that?)

Michael doesn’t have a place to sleep so he camps out behind a couple ordnance crates. He might blow up, but explosions remind him of his mother, which isn’t all bad.

There’s a set of eyes on him. He won’t make eye contact, he’s supposed to keep his head down (or lose it, is the implication there) but it is fucking annoying. His head snaps up from his makeshift pillow (an old leather jacket of his dad’s that he stole when he was leaving) and he squints, searching for whoever is staring at him in a way that is both threatening and inconspicuous (at least, it feels like that to Michael.)

It’s the same fucking kid who was hanging out in the rafters when Michael first got here.

Ray is fascinated by the sight of someone his own age. Nobody likes to tell him what’s going on, but he overhears a lot and even if not all of it makes sense, he gets that the other boy makes the boss laugh. That’s why she’s keeping him around – she thinks he’s funny.

He’s a little upset about this.

Here’s the deal – Ray grew up fast. His mother killed his father, dropped him off with some strangers and high-tailed it outta there. He has been with a criminal gang for four years and spent two of them training to be a fighter. (Do the math. That’s a good chunk of his life.) He knows shit never goes how it’s supposed to, that everything that can go wrong will go wrong.

But there is a person in this base that he could talk to. Properly. Ray has never wanted a single goddamn thing more in his life, so when the new kid glares at him from across the room, he does the only thing he can think of and beckons him closer.

Michael follows the other kid into the shadows of the base – no one notices them disappear.

“What the fuck do you want?” Michael snaps, crossing his arms. They’re in a side corridor of the warehouse.

“Those crates aren’t a great place to nap,” the boy replies, after a long moment of silence. His voice is raspy from disuse. “I thought you might want a mattress.” He gestures half-heartedly at a pile of pillows in the darkness and Michael takes a second to look around.

They’ve stumbled into a corner, an almost-room. It’s got three walls – one is just empty crates, but it still feels more protected than the center room. There’s a pile of pillows and blankets that form a nest against the wall, and, to Michael’s shock, a small T-V with what looks like a PS2 hooked up to it. Two controllers sit on top of each other.

“What the hell is this place?” Michael demands.

“Uh,” the kid shrugs. “It’s where I sleep, I guess.”

“So, what, this is your bedroom?”

He blinks twice and scrunches his eyebrows together. “Yeah? Yeah.”

“Why are you showing me your room, dude?” As much as Michael likes the look of that T-V, he doesn’t trust anyone in this place.

The other kid simply shrugs. “You can, uh. Sleep here if you want. I don’t sleep much, so it’s all yours.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ray.”

Ray is thirteen years old. He has three confirmed kills on his record, one of them listed as a direct headshot. His first kill was a fifty-four-year-old politician who denied the local gang’s bribe. He shot her four times, and she died in the hospital. (He was twelve years old and had been training with a sniper rifle for over a year.)

He has one friend in the world – Michael Jones, a fifteen-year-old amateur who deals with explosions and has a hell of a temper (and a foul mouth to back it up.)

Michael Jones is fifteen years old and his mother didn’t die in an explosion.

He finds out by accident – Ray shows him a stack of old receipts and suggest they dig through it to see if they can spot something interesting (maybe an old hit on a celebrity, or a drug deal with some politician. Ray’s doing it more for a distraction than anything else, because he’s spent all day at the gun range thirty miles out of the city and won’t sleep anyways – all he sees when he closes his eyes is bits of brain splattered on the pavement and a blood-soaked earth. Michael helps with the nightmares when he can, but he’s never killed someone – he doesn’t know how to help with that.)

Michael’s mother was Evelyn Jones and she was tortured for a full day before she died. Apparently, she worked as an explosives consultant for the gang and was threatening to go to the police. (Three years later and Michael is learning how to blow things up from maybe the same person who taught his mother.)

Ray is fourteen when they make it to Los Santos.

They fled Jersey once the truth about Michael’s mom came out. They didn’t know what else to do, really. Los Santos seemed like the safest place to go – it’s the underbelly of the United States, the one place the lowest of the low can congregate to raise a little hell. Ray knows some names in this city, enough to get some jobs. So long his employers don’t see his face they don’t have to know his age. It’s a system and it’s not the greatest (killing feels easier and easier and Ray is drowning under it all, he has four deaths hanging over his head. He’s killing people, so he and Michael can survive, so that should make it okay, but it really, really doesn’t.)

For Christmas that year, Michael takes him up Mount Chilliad in their stolen four-wheeler and they share a small, awkward kiss at the top of the mountain, while the sun sets. Ray doesn’t call it fireworks because it’s not – teeth bump together, and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, but Michael smiles at him when they separate, something lovely and open, and Ray thinks, just maybe, they can do this.

Michael has a death count that is much, much higher than Ray’s. The difference is this – there is an anger that sits inside him because his mother was murdered, and he was twelve. Nothing feels good, or okay, but watching explosions go off, seeing buildings crumble, that works for him. That calms him down enough that he can go home to Ray, go home to whatever they have, and he doesn’t yell, or fight. He comes home with bruises and burns, and Ray comes home with blood splatter dancing behind his eyelids, but they come back to each other.

Then, Michael works a job for a real crew. It’s a big step for him, and he has no intention of fucking it up because even if the Fake AH Crew is small, they have ties to bigger organizations. Michael would rather not make an enemy out of the Roosters.

The job goes better than well, and Michael gets a job offer. From Geoff Ramsey. (And he turns it down, because there’s Ray. There’s always Ray.)

Ray works alone. Even when they were in Jersey, back when there was a crew, he worked alone. Michael thought he felt the same, but, but, but, he doesn’t. He misses people.

They have a fight.

When Ray is eighteen he splits from Michael. It’s six years since they’ve moved from the city (he had reservations at a real restaurant to celebrate. They were gonna dress in suits and pretend to be all fancy and sophisticated.)

Michael joins up with a powerful gang in the city, the Devils (and he ignores the irony.) He has no friends, and fewer dreams, but his killcount is the highest of all the members, and he gets into fistfights on the regular. (Just once, he visited their old apartment to see if Ray was still there.)

(He wasn’t.)

Ray buys his weight in drugs and lives on the streets until he meets the same man who hired Michael all those years ago. Geoff Ramsey’s voice cracks when he talks to Ray, and his right-hand woman seems to break the speed limit as a hobby, but they help him out. They save his life, really.

Michael almost dies. They set him up, and they try to kill him and Lindsay Jones, a woman he barely knows, saves his life. She doesn’t kill him and she’s more than capable.

Ray runs away and then, he comes home.

“Michael. You’re, uh, looking well.”

“Ray?”

“I think we should try starting over.”

Michael’s face is hard. But when he looks at Ray, his eyes soften just a little bit. Just enough.

“I’d like that.”

And they talk for a very long time after that – but some conversations should be left private.

(Geoff, from outside listens in to make sure no one kills each other, and after about an hour, he pulls away with an expression of disgust. Jack and Gavin think it might be the funniest thing they’ve ever seen.)