A/N: Guess who's back? Hahaha

This is a one-shot by the way. Well, actually, I have a handful of one shots/shorts in my PC. Might as well publish some.

Read up! Oh, this is a bit confusing at first but go read it full, it's better.

Deal of the Devil

I felt bare without a gun or any weapon in particular. I had been so accustomed to playing with my knife while waiting for my drinks to come.

But tonight, and for the rest of my life, I might not be able to hold one again.

I made a deal. I might as well honor it.

It almost burned my eyes to see my friends laughing at a bar, a few seats away from me.

"Bartender!" Shaundi's voice rang, "Another one please."

"Yo girl, take it easy." Pierce laughed, "We still have a party up at the penthouse, so save room for later."

"I thought we're celebrating. So let's drink up!" My lieutenant protested.

I missed hearing these two bickering like an old married couple. I missed them. All of them. A lot.

But I made a deal. I can't say I regret it, or that I don't either.

I guess it's better this way. They're alive. All of them, and that's always a better alternative than being dead without a fight.

"Hey bartender," I heard that familiar whistle I used to call my Saints with. I turned to see Gat seated on the stool beside me. I guess he got that from me. "Gimme your finest drink."

The bartender nodded at him, acknowledging who he was.

I stared at his profile, for a while. It had been a long time since I've been this close to him, and yet this was still pretty far from how we used to be. We used to be best friends, we're almost like blood related at times.

It was a small fee, I thought to myself when Zinyak made the deal. A small price that will only affect me, in exchange for what, billions of lives spared? Yes, I was that desperate.

My conscience was killing me everyday. Earth was blown up , and I know my crew would never say it straight to my face, but I know they blame me. And I think they were right to think that. I got too cocky and got not only myself, but the whole human race into a fight we couldn't finish.

He turned his head to me, probably seeing me staring at him from the corner of his eye.

"You look familiar." He peered over those dark glasses of his, "Do I know you?"

His words hurts more than it should have. We were strangers once again.

My heart skipped a bit, "No. I don't... I don't think so." I tried to sound less hurt than I was. "I know you, though..."

A small price to pay, I repeated to myself inside my head to consolidate myself.

He shrugged, not knowing what I really meant when I said I knew him. If only he knew how much I know of him...

"You're not a Saint, are you?" He pulled the sleeve of my purple cardigan. "I know my Saints, unless my lieutenant over there did some recruiting without my consent."

And if only he remembered how much he knows about me, he wouldn't be asking these stupid questions. I missed our usual conversations, where we're both laid back and don't tip toe around each other's words.

"Oh no, Pierce would never-" I stopped myself from sounding too familiar, "I mean, I don't think he'll go behind you back." I smiled sheepishly, looking embarrassed, "I guess he looks like a really reliable person."

"You're right. He is." He smiled at me, but it wasn't the same one he wore before. It seemed distant and unfamiliar. "Although these two can be a bit meddlesome and whiny."

"You can say that again." I chuckled. I shouldn't know Pierce personally now, but then again, I do.

Pierce walked towards us and tapped his shoulder, "Hey Boss, Oleg called, we should go. We gonna be late. And Shaundi's got too much to drink."

Same old Pierce, worrying about everything.

"Sure. Let's go." Gat nodded before standing up, not even giving me one last look. Yes, I meant that little to him now.

I wanted to grab his hand and keep him here. Keep talking casually to him, even for a little while longer.

But I was frozen and he was already halfway across the bar with Pierce.

"Who's the chic?" I heard Pierce say from a distance.

"I dunno. Didn't catch her name." He just shrugged without a care.

I never imagined that a day would come where we would ever be strangers again. We've been through so much, and I just thought, even after so many years have past, we'd probably all still hang out, when we're all old and withered. Even when the Saints disbanded, I was sure we would still see each other and talk like we used to.

It just hurts to realize that you are permanently erased from their lives. That everything you've been through was wiped out and replaced with some other memory which doesn't involve you.

I wasn't The Boss anymore. I lost the title together with my life as a Saint. I was just a regular working citizen of Steelport, trying to make it through life in a crime infested city. That was the price to pay.

I looked down at my empty glass. Empty - like my life now.

I was alone. Again.

"On the house." The bartender slipped a glass of scotch in front of me, replacing my empty glass.

"Scotch. My favorite drink." I smiled to myself.

I turned my head to the exit and saw Gat taking a quick glimpse at me as he walked out of the bar, with that classic smirk on his face. He gave me a sloppy two-fingered salute before disappearing into the night.

It made me smile a little.

No, it wasn't a small price to pay to reverse time and all the chaos that's happened. But it was worth it.

It's been five years since Zinyak's supposed invasion, but as I made a deal, that never happened. A lot of things didn't happen, in fact.

I didn't happen. Not the gangbanger or gang leader-me. Not the celebrity or the President-me.

It was still pretty peaceful on earth. And by peaceful, I mean in comparison when the alien warlord attacked. Of course, there was the usual crimes, corruption, and gangs trying to take over.

But that's what the Saints are for.

I picked up my glass and made a silent toast to myself before drinking up.

A/N: Well, that's just a random idea. I love the Blue door-red door idea. It was an oh-shit moment for me. It's a hard decision, though an obvious one. But think about it, the other choice makes sense too. I take SR's decisions too seriously, like the one at the end of SR3.

Okay, I have an own storyline for SR IV which isn't too happy and this was probably set there. A SR where the Saints actually lost to Zin. Meh, I'll just write a prequel chapter if you want to know how it goes.

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