The Way (Chapter 2: Home Is Where You Won’t Get Shot)
A/N: So I decided Michael is the love interest in this only because I love writing Michael. This one is an emotional rollercoaster so be warned!
Pairing: FAHC (or I guess Pre!FAHC) XReader
Word Count: 3848
Warnings: Cuss words, mentions of death, mentions of weapons, blood, violence, and injury.
The grass was wet and dewy on the day your mother was buried. Ray sat there next to the dirt for a long time. He was so little, even compared to the gravestone. The clouds hung heavy in the sky, begging to rain. You went to walk up to your brother, but before you could interrupt his silence, your father picked you up and held you close. Cupping your cheek, he gently made you look up at him.
"Can you promise me something sweetheart?" His voice was low so Ray wouldn't hear. You responded by laying your head against his chest, absently staring at the expanse of graves and abandoned bouquets of flowers. "One day I will tell Ray to protect you. Because that's what fathers do. They tell their sons to protect their daughters. But I need you to know, that you are one of the strongest little girls I've ever seen. I need you to make sure your brother stays safe, no matter what, understand?" Quietly you nodded in agreement, understanding his words, but still silently absorbing the shockwaves the death of your mother left. Climbing out of your father's arms you made your way back to your little brother and extended a hand to him. Your voice was little but full of maturity. "C'mon, Ray. We have to go now." You wiped the tears from his glasses with the hem of his shirt, placed them gently back on his face, and helped him up. Grinning, you patted his back. "I got you now, okay?" You said happily. Ray beamed at you, taking comfort in his big sister. There were some gaps in his smile from where his baby teeth had already fallen out. That day, you walked away with the remnants of your family. The memory of that promise forced you out of your fear and had you speeding down the halls back to the chapel. Before the police could grab you, you were banging hard on the door, screaming, praying that they'd hear you through the heavy metal. "RAY!" Your throat went dry as the name pulled out of your mouth like sandpaper. Fists pounding over and over until the police pulled you away. "I'm sorry Miss but we can't allow you back in there! It's safety protocol!" Writhing and kicking against their grip, you kept screaming. "Let me go, you don't understand! I have to get my brother out of here!" Suddenly the door swung open from Ray's force, your father following behind him. But before he had a chance to say a word, your father was being dragged away. "Remember what I told you, Ray." Were your father's parting words. "Dad!" Ray called out trying to grab his father. He looked crushed, still trying to pry the police off of him. "Sorry kid. Times up." A guard put a muzzle over your father and the both of them were walking away. "No! Please!" Another officer held your brother back even though he stopped fighting. He cried out once more, calling to his father who was halfway down the hallway, tears spilling over the edge of his cheeks. Once everything was settled and the both of you were composed, you were escorted out of the building, back to your car. They forced you to walk slowly even though you were desperate to get out of there quickly. When you got to your car you nervously fumbled with your keys, trying to get into the vehicle as fast as possible. You buckled in and turned on the car but Ray was still outside with his head hung, staring at the ground. "C'mon, Ray! We have to go now!" Panic soaked your voice and your eyes were blown wide, hands trembling. Reluctantly he got into the car and you swerved out of the parking lot. You didn't wait for Ray to ask why you were in such a rush. "Geoff called me. You know that asshole that beat the shit out of me? Apparently he really doesn't take any crap. They set up a fake meeting with Geoff at the docks and they tried to fucking kill him. He got out of there obviously but that fucker and his gang are looking for us." Ray looked up at you with worry on his face. "What are we going to do?" His frightened voice made your chest sore. You looked at him and saw the fear in his eyes, reminding you of all the times you had to get your brother out of a scary situation when he was young. Now wasn't any different. "Geoff has a key to our house. He's grabbing our shit and meeting us at a motel. I already ordered us a room. We'll have to stay there for awhile." Ray silently put his head in his hands. You were still focusing on the road and white knuckling the wheel, trying to get him to a safe place as fast as possible. "Listen, Ray. Everything's going to be okay. I'm not letting you go. I won't leave you alone," you pulled one of his hands away from his face and held it firmly "we're in this together, okay?" He looked at you for a long moment, unsure of as to why you weren't screaming at him. "(Y/N). This is my fault. Don't you get that?" He sounded angry but mostly worried. "It's my fault too. I should've watched over you more, I just..." Your voice trailed off as you wiped a teardrop from your cheek. Nothing in your face suggested you were sad. You wouldn't let the expression show. However you couldn't stop the drops from spilling. Decorating your cheeks like tiny translucent gems. No matter how many times Ray asked you how it could possibly be your fault, you didn't answer. You were afraid that if you opened your mouth all your anxiety would come pouring out and scare him even more. It was sunset by the time you got to Billingsgate motel. You were much more relaxed knowing you were out of the area. Geoff was standing in the parking lot, leant against a large black van, and taking a long drag of his cigarette. You pulled up next to him and got out of the car, although Ray sat inside. "What's the van for?" You eyed the vehicle curiously. "I wanted to take as much of your shit as I could". You walked behind the van and opened it's doors. The couch and pieces of the beds were in the back. On top were all your essentials and your precious items. Unfortunately, you saw Ray's sniper that looked like it was supposed to be hidden in your belongings. Irritated, you snapped your head towards Geoff, whispering angrily. "Are you out of your mind? Were you trying to hide that thing from me?" Geoff rolled his eyes and put a hand on your shoulder. "Listen. That thing is fucking expensive. The least you can do is pawn it off. Also, you might want to keep that thing close by, at least for tonight. And I wasn't hiding it from you genius." "Then who were you hiding it from?" You were still glowering. "The police. Never know when you're going to get searched." "Do a better job next time," you threw a pillow at him "where am I going to keep all this furniture anyway?" "Don't worry about that. Just take what you need and the rest can stay to my place for the time being." You never could stay mad at him. Especially when he was so nice to you. Pulling him into a hug you felt him tense and squirm. "Not in public, alright, kid?" Laughing, you hugged him tighter. Ray came up and cocked a brow at the sight. "Um, not to ruin the moment but can I make a suggestion?" You let go of Geoff and were relieved to see your brother's change in demeanor. "Of course, shoot." You said picking the pillow up that you threw, and tossing it back in the van. "Now, hear me out." "This should be good." Geoff said sardonically, flicking his cigarette on the ground, and putting it out with his foot. Ray glared at Geoff before he continued to speak. "That money I got from- well, you know, is hidden under a floorboard in my bedroom," Geoff walked around to the driver's side of the car "we don't have to live like this for god knows how long. All we have to do is go back there-" before Ray could finish Geoff dropped a heavy pillow sack by Ray's feet. "Way ahead of you buddy. It's not enough to do shit with. It's grocery and motel money for the next month. Maybe a month and a half. You spent most of it on the sniper." Ray's mouth hung in surprise. You punched Geoff in the arm for not being more sensitive. The stars started coming out and the air went cold. Rubbing the goosebumps from your arms you suggested that it was probably best to go inside and stay low. Ray was grabbing as much as he could and went to get the key card. When Ray was gone, Geoff put a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I have to go," you tried to beg him to stay but he wasn't having it and cut you off before you could let out a sound "I have to make sure no one's on my ass or yours." "Geoff, they almost killed you!!" "I know. But they didn't, did they?" He let a boastful smile plaster his face. Shuffling your feet, you stared at the ground and shoved your hands in your pockets. "I don't want to lose another friend, Geoff." Your voice was crackling with sorrow. Even more tears threatening so drip. "You're not going to lose me." He ruffled your hair and got back into his van. You stood there, still staring at the ground, as he backed out and left. When you saw his rearview lights heading off, you waved goodbye. Eventually you and Ray settled into the dusty room. The color of striped wallpaper was dull and the paper itself was peeling off. The rug was matted and smelled of mold. There was a tiny couch that didn't match the color scheme of the room and one bed, next to an indoor floor AC unit that didn't work and was caked with dust. The bathroom was no better, with fake tiles peeling from the ground and a cracked mirror. After a long silence, Ray spoke up: "Well, we have had worse." He shrugged and smirked, trying to make you feel better. Pulling your eyes away from the stained curtains, you began to chuckle. "Like that one time we lived in a box for a night because we got off of the wrong bus stop and grandpa couldn't find us?" Ray bent over in laughter at the memory you brought up. "Or-or remember when you tried living in a tree and mom thought you ran away? She was so mad at you!" "You remember that? You were like, five!" You sat on the bed because your knees were buckling from laughter. "Of course I remember," Ray sat next to you "the only reason you got down was because you forgot squirrels live in trees and one chased you back into the house." Laying down on the bed you put your head by the footrest, resting the opposite way, staring at the broken ceiling fan. "We've had some good times." Ray frowned, wondering why you sounded so sad. He continued to try and make you laugh. "I think our definition of fun was also pretty different from normal kids." You tried laughing at his dry humor but you couldn't bring yourself to be happy again, but you pulled a smile for him anyway. Ray laid next to you, but the proper way, with his feet by the footrest. "Like my feet in your face?" You wiggled your toes by his nose. He swatted your feet away, laughing. "Oh, yeah. Totally great." After another long pause, Ray got up and put his sniper together and on top of the window sill behind the ugly couch. He sat on the sofa and peeked between the blinds. You turned your head towards him: "What are you doing?" "Keeping watch. I'm not tired anyway so you can go to bed." "I'm not tired either." You grabbed your own pillows and sheets, fixing the bed so you wouldn't have to lay on that more than likely bed bug infested mattress. It didn't exactly fit right, but it was better than nothing. Once again Ray broke the silence: "Want to know where I learned how to shoot?" He asked, peeking the flash-suppressor through the blinds, peering down the side of the barrel. Picking your head up, your ears perked, already completely curious. "Well I know dad couldn't have taught you." "It was grandpa, actually." He looked over his shoulder back at you, smirking. "Shut up. No way?" Ray nodded his head. "It's true. He would take me out to the range when you went with grandma to the salon every Saturday. Never was very good with pistols or automatics. Grandpa said I had a knack for accuracy." "Funny. Considering your shitty vision." Ray's shoulders raised in laughter. "Hey...sis?" You jumped back on the bed, feeling a little better now that the sheets made you feel at home. "What's up?" "Do you ever miss mom?" Immediately all of your muscles tensed, breath stopping cold in your lungs. You wondered why it was so hard to just say yes. "Well uh- I mean, of course why wouldn't you miss her?" You stood up and slipped on your shoes. "No, I asked if you missed her." His voice was vexed and tight with quiet anger. He knew exactly what you were doing. "Oh, sorry I didn't realize." Quickly you walked out the door and out of the room. Ray didn't even bother to call for you, knowing you'd do anything to get out of answering no matter what. You made a bee-line towards the snack machine to buy something to make it look like you had a reason for leaving like that. For awhile you pretended like you were contemplating what you would buy but you realized you hadn't brought any money with you. Pressing your forehead against the clear plastic you sighed heavily, chest rumbling with anxiety. Like the gods were watching you, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You thanked all the deities when you saw it was Barbra.
"Oh thank god it's you." You wiped the sweat from your forehead. "Hey! What's wrong? You sound stressed." "Me? I'm totally fine." Barbra listened to your tone to see if you were lying. Warily, she continued. "You know East Los Santos Appliances?" "Yeah?" "Well, I know you only take your car out for emergencies but there's a fight going on tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to come?" "I'm not following you." You glanced over at your room window and noticed Ray was no longer watching. "There's a fight club in the appliance store's warehouse. It's right next to it." "Barb, I don't know-" "Aw, come on. You haven't done anything fun in ages." There was no reason for you to say yes. It was late at night, you weren't the hugest fan of violence, it was illegal, costed money you didn't have, and most importantly was the opposite of laying low. However you went anyway, not being able to stand the earful you were going to get from your brother after what you just did. You hopped in your car and shut off your phone, knowing that once Ray saw you driving off, he'd probably call you and you'd get into another lovely argument. When you got in front of the appliance store you didn't see a warehouse to the side. Just a medium rusty shed with the lights on inside. You saw Barbra walk out of it with a handsome man on her arm. When she saw you she waved and raced towards you, dragging the man along with her. "You made it!" She let go of her arm candy and hugged you tight. "This is it?" You asked as she let go. "No, of course not" she giggled "It's under the shed thing. It's a huge basement, you have to see it. It's awesome." Awesome wasn't necessarily the word you'd use to describe it. After walking down a long narrow staircase, there were cheap dirty bleachers around an old fighting ring that had a torn sweat stained mat with worn out ring ropes. Thankfully the only bouncer by the enterance was distracted so you were able to slip past him and not pay. One less thing on your conscience at least. The man Barbra was with kissed her and left, disappearing behind a curtain where you assumed all the fighters of the night were congregating. You looked at her with a resentful glare. "What?" She questioned, trying to play off any guilt. "Don't act innocent! The only reason why you brought me to this shit show is because Muscles McGee over there works here! That's how we got front row seats, huh?" "His name is Aaron. And I really like him, okay? I wanted you to check him out," she slung her arm over you and gave you a cheeky smile "besides there's someone I want you to meet. He's just your type." Suddenly the ceiling lights went down and small movie lights surrounded the ring. From outside of the fighter's cage stood a man on a table with a cheap microphone in hand. "Ladies and gentlemen," you winced at the awful screeching of the mic "thank you for visiting us tonight! Without any further ado, we present to you our first pair of fighters for the night!" Two men with towels draped over their heads to hide their identities crawled through the ropes, one in each corner. The first one took off is towel. His face was caveman like, with cauliflower ear from being knocked around too many times. "Our first fighter is Mr. Flintstone!" The Neanderthal raised his fists in the air and let out a primal roar. "Our second fighter, and the rookie for tonight, is Spitfire Jones!" You noticed the second man wasn't small, but small in comparison to pre-dated man on the other side of the ring. "Well would you look at that," Barbra spoke slightly surprised "looks like he's up first." You looked at her quizzically and asked: "Who?" She just shrugged, pretending not to know. Getting a good look at the rookie, you saw he had no bruises or signs that he had ever done this before, besides the medium amount of muscle he had. "Is that curly haired kid out of his mind? That amateur is going to get creamed!" Barbra crossed her arms and leant back with confidence. "I don't know, (Y/N), Aaron tells me he's way more than he seems." You furrowed your brows at her, completely unsure as to what was going on. However your gaze was whipped towards the ring when you heard the bell go off, signaling the round was to begin. The fighters danced around each other before cave dweller tried his hand at an overhead punch but the smaller man managed to dodge at a surprising speed. When a jab was then thrown at the rookie he pulled his fists closer to his chest and ducked under the troglodytes arms, throwing all of his weight into strong man's torso, knocking him onto the mat hard. A loud thump was heard when his large head hit the ground. You cringed at the sight. "Holy shit! They're fighting dirty!" You covered your eyes momentarily, pulling away from the violent rumble. "I know," Barbra sounded way too excited "isn't it awesome?!" After a few minutes of wrestling, the rookie was winning, to your complete surprise. Your jaw dropped to the floor when you saw him put the knock off Hulk into a standing Guillotine Choke until he was blue in the face. Everyone stood up cheering and roaring, including you. It was amazing to see. All of the hustle made you forget the ups and downs you had that day. When the match ended Mr. Flintstone had to be carried out of the ring, completely out of energy. Spitfire Jones, even though he was busted and bruised, threw up his fists in victory and hit his chest with his fist in dominance. You found yourself lost in admiration until Barbra grabbed your arm and started dragging you behind the curtain, after both fighters finished exiting the ring. It was there you met Michael Jones for the first time. He sat in a small foldable metal chair, hair sweaty and matted, arms hanging as he was gasping for air. The makeshift medics squirted water from a bottle onto his face to wash away the blood. His lip was split open ad his left eye was already swelling shut. Barbra pushed you towards him. "Hey, Michael." She flicked his arm to get his attention. "Hey." He said in response, lazily lifting up an arm as an attempt to wave. "This is the girl I told you about." You hit her arm, feeling embarrassed. Michael gave you a lopsided smile. "Well she is pretty like you said." You averted your gaze as you blushed and mumbled a thanks under your breath. He took off one of his fighting gloves and extended his hand towards you. "Name's Michael. Nice to meet you. I'd wink but, with my current fucked up condition, it'd probably look like my eyes were just closed." You tittered at his joke, and shook his hand, wondering how someone who looked so beat up could still look so attractive.