(DISCLAIMER: I have never written a story about a video game before, but I assume it is the same old thing; I don't own anything, hence why I am on a fanfic site. Anyway, I, again, haven't written about a video game before, and am also more new to the GTA (mostly just V) scene, so I have no idea how this story will go over, I am pretty much just writing this for my sister, who gave me the prompt: "What if Trevor stole a kid and Michael (and Franklin) helped him raise it and took it on heists with them?" And this is how this came to be, of course it will be a little bit different than that. I have no idea what will happen, really, or if I will continue posting it or not, I am really just having some fun with it right now. I wanted it to be as true to the game as possible, or at least I'm trying to, so the beginning of this story starts pretty much right after the game ends, with option C, (Death Wish,) obviously, because I don't believe in any other option. I would really like some feedback, I once again, have no idea how big the fan base is for GTA V here, I know that it is still pretty popular on YouTube, but other than that...I have no idea, but, yes, some feedback would be greatly appreciated, also, let me know if you would like this story to continue? I might just post it so I don't lose it. but anyways. Thanks! And obviously it will be rated M, because it's a story about Grand Theft Auto! I have no control over that! ENJOY! :))

Part 1. Mission: Crystal Meth.

What the fuck?

What the fuck was this?!

Trevor was pissed, more than pissed he was...he was infuriated, damn it! He stood rooted in the front of his office, hands clutching the rifle he had grabbed as the man ran and dove into his car. He was out of the parking spot and going down the street before Trevor could shoot out his tires, or him in the head. He wasn't really picky as to which he hit. He couldn't believe this, this bitch was running away with his goods. That was good meth! The best fucking meth around!

Trevor uprooted himself, swearing curse word after curse word at the street, dust flying from the man's tires. "Ooh, Petters!" He shook his fist as he turned the key, in his truck now. He stomped on the gas, not paying attention to the road, as he sped down the street, but his phone instead. He dialed a number in his contact list, one that had just called him, and ruined his deal.

"T?" The voice answered the phone with confusion. This only pissed Trevor off more. "What, didn't get enough of telling me how much you hate me the first time, you had to call back?"

"Fuck you, Michael!" Trevor yelled into the phone, driving in between cars on the two lane highway. "FUCK YOU!"

"I got that much the first time!" Michael retorted, in that sarcastic tone that was so obviously fake. "If that's all, I'll hang the fuck up now."

"YOU FUCKED UP MY DEAL, YOU...YOU...OOEEEH!" Trevor roared with anger. He looked left, he looked right, all around, and noticed he was chasing the wind, Petters was completely gone, off with his money.

"Look, T, I get you're upset," Michael was saying now, though Trevor could hardly hear it, he was seething. "But how the fuck was I supposed to know you were doin' a deal?!"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"I'll call Lester," Michael continued."Maybe he can get a current address. What'd you say this guys name was?"

Trevor tried to calm himself down, let go of some of that ever present anger he felt toward Michael...it never worked when he tried. "I didn't."

"Trevor, don't be an asshole."

Trevor took in a breath and cleared his throat, "Petters, George Petters...yooou fuck!"

"Give me an hour," Michael hung up and Trevor glared at the road, as he slammed on his brakes, causing the person behind him to do the same, and turned around in the middle of the road, heading back to his office.

XXX

Trevor was asleep on his nasty couch when Michael walked in, Franklin trailing behind him. This place really was the like most disgusting pits of hell, just like it's owner. With it's peeling puke colored wallpaper and cockroach crusted floors, it smelled like dead rats. Michael mentally plugged his nose before coming inside.

"Yo, Trevor, Dogg, we're here, homie!" Franklin called out, but he was probably in some drug induced coma and couldn't hear him, Michael looked around for something that would wake him up. The shot gun latched to Michael's belt came to mind, he pulled it up and cocked it. "Mike, what the fuck...?!"

"What?" Michael retorted, with a light chuckle, but the look on Franklin's face made him sigh. "Alright...alright. Jesus!"

Instead, Michael walked over to the half empty whiskey bottle on the computer desk and looked at Franklin, who raised a challenging eyebrow, he didn't bother fighting it though, just rolled his eyes and took a few steps back. Michael took a sip of the amber substance before turning the bottle over and a stream poured over Trevor's face.

It took him a minute to react, but then he let out a very over-dramatic arggg and rolled onto the floor.

"'bout fuckin' time!" Michael set down the bottle, as Trevor staggered to his feet and if looks could kill...then just looking at this bastard, you would drop dead, and that's on his best days, which were never.

"Yooou motherfucker!"

"Oh, fuck you, T!"

"Fuck me?" Trevor retorted, angerly. "Fuck me?!"

"Man, fuck both ya'll!" Franklin retorted, losing his patience, as he so topically did when with these two. "I brought my ass up here 'cause Michael said you needed our help, but if you two are just gonna bitch at each other, like always-"

"It's not bitching, this is how we make love," Trevor retorted, in an almost serious tone. "Was it good for you, Sugar Tits?"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"That means yes..."

"Common, man!" Franklin expressed his displeasure. "Be serious."

"He doesn't know how," Michael explained, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, it had his own green inked scribbles on It. "His brain isn't wired right." Trevor glared at him, but Michael continued before he could talk. "This is the address of the guy, George Petters."

He shoved it into Trevor's dirty hands and walked over to Franklin. Trevor looked it over, "What are we still doing here?" He asked then, in his grough voice. "LET'S GET A MOVE ON IT, LADIES!"

XXX

that hadn't gone as planned, there hadn't really been a plan, but if there had been a plan, it couldn't have gotten more fucked up. Michael raced down the street, toward Trevor's trailer, Franklin half unconscious in the backseat. Trevor wasn't there, Michael had to leave him behind in order to get Franklin out, it had been a tough call, but Trevor would be fine. It some sick way Michael was pretty sure Trevor was enjoying himself, terrorizing a house full of crackheads, that was his kind of party.

Michael skidded the car to a stop and got out, ignoring the smell of Trevor's home and the overall trailer trash of it all, and pulled open the car door, yanking and pulling Franklin out of the car. He had been hit with some sort of stink bomb. It went off right in his face, and he went out like a light. Franklin half walked and the other half dragged inside. Michael sat him down and promptly pulled out his phone, calling Trevor.

"Michael, man..." Franklin slurred. "What the fuck was in that bomb?"

"No idea," he answered, getting sent to Trevor's voicemail. "Fuck!"

"Where's T...?"

"On his way, just relax."

XXX

"What?" Trevor yelled out the back door of Petters house, as three men jumped over the hedge and ran off. "WELL, IF YOU CAN'T HANG!"

He turned around, stepping over a body as he walked back into the living room. "I guess it's just you and me, Sweet Cheeks," he referred to the woman sitting on the couch, she had blood on her face that was not her own. Her husband lay dead on the floor, at her feet.

"You're a fucking psychopath!" she yelled, as he toyed with the gun in his hand. She let out a scream, stood up, pushed him out of the way and ran out the back door as well.

"I prefer sociopath!" he called after her, not bothering to follow her. She wasn't worth it. He stepped over her dead husband and walked down the hall. He had heard something, he wasn't sure what it was, but it had definitely been something. He walked into a bedroom that had white clouds on the ceiling. "Fucking stoners..." he heard it again, like a little coo, and it was coming from the closet. "Are you hiding, YOOOU FUCKING PRICK?!"

He yanked open the closet, gun ready, but what he came face to face with was...a bunch of shirts, but below that was a kid. "Can I come out now?"

"What?" Trevor barked back. "What the hell are you doing in there?!"

"Mommy always puts me in the closet when Daddy's friends come over," the girl explained, causally. "She doesn't think I know what's going on..."

Trevor's face froze up, mouth half hung open, he was perplexed, very perplexed. The girl looked up at him, amused.

"You look like a toad."

"Fuck you!"

"Sorry," she giggled, picking up a stuffed teddy bear off the closet floor. "And don't swear, I'm only seven."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to talk to strangers?" Trevor enquired, at a loss, just a complete fu- effing loss.

The girl shrugged. "No, not really..." she gave Trevor's appalled look a smile. "Wanna say hello to Mrs. P?"

Trevor looked down at the bear that she now offered him. "No..."

XXX

"My...fuckin'...head," Franklin groaned, walking back and forth in the trailer, Michael sat on the couch, watching the clock on his phone, it had been twenty five minutes since he had called Trevor, he was beginning to get nervous. Which was a pretty big understatement, he was fucking terrified. "Where is that fool?" Franklin continued talking, he had said that six times now. "Man..."

Michael shook his head, maybe he should have gone back for him. But it was too late now.

The was a crash, like someone had ran into the garage outside. Franklin ran over to the window and moved the blinds to look out. "It's his truck!" He announced, and Michael took a breath he didn't like to think that he was holding. But he was. "What the fuck's he carrying?!"

Michael wasn't really listening to Franklin now, he was worried he was having a heart attack, and if Trevor's shit put him in a grave now, Michael was going to kick his ass. There was a bang right outside the front door and then the door burst open. Trevor walked in, looking more grungy than ever, if that was possible, and in his arms...was a body. He shooed Michael from the couch and laid her down.

It was definitely a girl, with her long blonde hair, Michael and Franklin both stared.

"...what?"

"What the hell is that?!" Franklin yelled. "Is that a fuckin' kid, homie?".

"Yeah," Trevor nodded, looking at them back and forth, like he didn't understand why they looked so concerned. "Her name's Crystal. Not very original...I like Trisha better."

"I always knew you were fucking nuts," Michael started, feeling a substantial pain In the center of his forehead. "But kidnapping a fucking kid, T. ARE YOU INSANE?!" He held up his hand when Trevor went to talk and looked at the girl, who hadn't moved once, since he lad laid her down. "What the fuck did you do to'er?!"

"Nothing!" Trevor retorted. "She fell asleep on the way here...or ate something off the floor, I'm not sure..."

"What?!" Michael and Franklin both yelled, at the same time.

"She was complaining she was hungry and then fell asleep..." Trevor over dramatically threw up his arms in a shrug. "She's not dead, I checked."

Franklin 's eyes widdened, as he turned to Michael. Why was it always Michael that had to handle Trevor's bullshit? "You have to take her back."

"No can-do, Mikey, old buddy," Trevor walked over to his counter, and picked up a already opened beer and took a drink. When he noticed Michael was watching him, imploringly, he continued. "They had her in a closet, Mike!"

"Maybe because three motherfuckers came shot up their house?" Franklin offered, Trevor gave him a dirty look.

"Frank agrees with me, T," Michael tried to smooth it over, before Trevor threw a fit. "You gotta give her back."

"Of course he agrees with you!" Trevor retorted. "He is you. He is a mini you!"

"Mini?!" Franklin retorted, annoyed now. "Shit, I could take either of ya'lls asses any day..."

"Is that so, big boy?" Trevor retorted. "Give it a shot...hom-E!"

"Trevor!" Micheal scolded. "Shut the fuck up!"

Trevor growled. "I can't give her back, alright? Her parents are gone..."

"You killed them?!"

"You two helped...!"