The Young and Stupid
By rossobass
AN: The material of Grand Theft Auto, including the characters of this story, is not mine, I didn't create it, I don't own Rockstar property, etc.
Chapter 1 – Prologue
Nikolai Bellic stood with his back to the sea, facing a man who wriggled on the ground, his hands bound. This was Darko Brevic.
Some twelve years ago, Niko had served in a drafted band of teenage Serbian soldiers during the Bosnian War. Their unit had been given orders to murder Bosnian civilians. Once they had disobeyed their orders, they had been labeled as renegades. This man, as Niko had discovered, betrayed their unit to their superiors. They were located, and facing guns from their own countrymen, they lied down in a ditch, and they were all shot. Niko himself had taken a bullet through his back and another in his arm, but had survived, walking some 30 kilometers on the edge of death after struggling to stay alive an entire day and night in the ditch where his dead comrades lay with him.
Two had not been with the unit that day: Florian Cravic, and Darko Brevic. Niko had already found Florian, who had revealed himself a homosexual, and who had been sincere in telling Niko that he had had nothing to do with the betrayal of their unit. This of course, left only Darko.
Now, with the man writhing in front of him, he felt the accumulation of all the dogging feelings of depression, torment, and lust for revenge. He remembered crawling out of that blood-moistened ditch in Bosnia, and looking down at his dead comrades, already attracting flies. Even from behind, he recognized them. Hatred permeated Niko, he screamed a few of their names at Darko.
"Dragan?! Mijo, Mita?! Mogadanastavic! Goran?! Svijo?!" He wanted Darko to answer for his sins, to give some reason that would negate his crime.
"Goran, Mogadanastavic?" Darko rasped. "They deserved it! They killed my FUCKING neighbors! I did it, because of shit. Because of shit!"
"So that makes it ok to stab your friends in the back?!" Niko spat. He jumped forward and grabbed Darko under the collar, dragging his face to within an inch of his own.
"How much?!" Niko screamed. "How much did they give you?!" Darko laughed with a vitality surprising to his weakened appearance.
"A thousand," he replied while laughing. Niko released Darko in horror, bringing his hands to the sides of his head, turning away from Darko and back again.
"You killed my friends for a thousand dollars!" He cried in disbelief.
"How much does it cost to kill a man." Darko said emotionlessly. Niko's anger purged over his shock once more.
"You ruined me, you FUCK!" He screamed.
"I had problems," Darko replied, dismissing the comment.
"You're a fucking junkie!"
"Kill me then!" He cried pathetically, dropping to his knees. "Trust me… you'd be doing me a favor." Niko reached inside his suit jacket, producing a pistol, a simple 9mm. Reaching inside his pants pocket, he found a loaded clip. He snapped it into place in the gun's butt and leveled it on Darko's face as he stood again. His finger hesitated on the trigger.
He saw a glint of the boy he knew in Darko's dulled eyes. He remembered seeing him for the first time, and quickly, he remembered everything that had happened. He remembered his mother, his father, his brother, letters from Roman, political dysfunction in Yugoslavia, his unit, his friends that became his brothers. Suddenly, he remembered the war.
