Birth of James Michael Townley

...\~/...

It was three minutes past three in the morning when Amanda Townley's water broke. Her eyes shot open when she felt the overwhelming sensation and she bolted upright. Michael, who was a heavy sleeper, continued to snore through her distress, oblivious to what was happening around him. Until Amanda shook him awake, of course. Through hazy eyes, he saw the panic spread across his wife's face, and flicked his eyes towards the alarm clock, neon green blaring 3:04 now. With a groan, he flipped over and grumbled, "Go back to sleep, Amanda. It's only...mmm..." And he dozed back off.

Amanda shook him again, this time hissing, "My water broke, Michael!"

However, he was awake enough to hear those four words.

"Holy fuck! Your water broke!"

The man shot up, throwing off the covers and flipping out of his warm bed, while a very pregnant Amanda struggled to get off the bed. Michael frantically pulled on a pair of jeans and hearing his wife's grunts, he ran over to help her off the mattress. Even though the situation was borderline chaotic, this was the second time she'd gone through the pregnancy thing. She knew how to deal with this situation, and she inhaled slowly through her mouth and exhaled just as slowly through her nose. Amanda had herself calmed, while her husband continued to hurry around the room, looking for clothes to wear and something warm to wrap Amanda in, something thick enough to withstand North Yankton's cold climate.

"How are you feeling, Manda? Do you need to sit down? Do you need something to eat? Do you-"

"Michael," Amanda said, grabbing onto her husband's shoulder and pulling him towards her. Her hands cupped his jaw, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Calm down. Take a deep breath and calm down." She watched as Michael closed those green eyes of his and did as he was instructed. When he opened his eyes again, concern was etched into them. Before he could say anything, Amanda beat him to it. "Honey, it'll be alright. I've done this before. Everything will turn out okay."

"Well, I haven't done this before," he reminded.

True. This was Michael's first child, Amanda remembered. When they first met, she was a stripper dancing on the pole trying to make some money, trying to make ends meet. She had been different from the other strippers, however, and what made her special was that she had a child, a daughter to be exact. Amanda Olsen (her maiden name) had made the decision of doing prostitution on the side two years prior, as well as her stripper career, just to make some extra dollars. A few months in, she found herself pregnant, and nine months later, she had her daughter, Tracey Marie Olsen. After that, when it came to dating, the moment she mentioned a kid when meeting men, they avoided Amanda like the plague. But Michael...he was different. He accepted both of them into his life, and even though he was a criminal and constantly running from the law, Amanda had no regrets in marrying him.

Amanda snapped out of her thoughts when a sudden pain shot through her, a pain that almost sent her to her knees. Michael caught her, holding her close, and waited until she showed that everything was okay. They needed to go and soon or else she'd be having the baby right on their bed. Her husband grabbed her arm and wrapped it around his neck, curling his other around her waist to help her walk out the bedroom door. "Breathe, Amanda, breathe," he instructed, feeling his wife's whole body tense as another wave of pain washed over her. "Remember what the doctor told you to do. Breathe!" Together, they did the breathing exercises they were told to do months ago by their doctor, and slowly made their way through the trailer.

"Mommy? Daddy?" a small voice questioned behind them. Michael and Amanda turned halfway to look up and see their two year-old daughter standing at the mouth of the hallway, rubbing her blue eyes with her tiny fingers. "Are you leaving me?" she asked, trotting to them. She tugged on her father's pant leg, looking up at him with those eyes that made him melt on the inside. Just for a moment, Michael released his wife to pick up Tracey, the little girl circling her short arms around his neck. He had forgotten all about her, and from the looks of it, Amanda had too. Now, they had a problem. Who was going to look after her when they were at the hospital?

Michael gave a knowing look at Amanda and she knew that look, too.

That look made her scowl.

"No, Michael."

"Why not?"

"I'm not leaving my daughter with that...with that...that menace!"

"But she loves him!"

"No."

"Amanda..."

"Don't 'Amanda' me, Michael. I am not leaving my - AH!" This time, the cramps were bad, and they made Amanda fall to a knee. Tracey, having no idea what pregnancy did to a woman, cried out for her mother, only seeing that her mom was in pain and in need of help. The girl squirmed helplessly in Michael's arms, struggling to get to her pained mother who needed comfort. Michael set his brown-haired daughter down and aided Amanda, pulling her back up to her feet. "Babe, I am not going to have this argument. We're going to the hospital and Tracey is going with him. That's final."

The woman didn't even bother to argue.

"Trevor! Answer the door! Damn it, T, we don't have time! Answer the fuckin' door!" Michael yelled as he banged his fist against the trailer door. Tracey was bundled tightly in her hot pink coat, hood up and gentle face buried in her father's shoulder to keep the bitingly cold wind away from it. Inside, Michael could hear his best friend's voice shout curses at him, and the lock finally clicked. The door swung open, revealing a disgruntled Trevor Philips, who looked halfway from dropping to the floor from exhaustion. Michael knew this was the first night in many weeks they were able to get a decent amount of sleep since the police seemed to give up in their search for them, but Amanda's sudden labor, in Michael's mind, was more important than sleep at the moment.

"Michael, it's three-thirty in the morning," Trevor stated, annoyance laced in his voice. "You better have a damn good excuse."

"Amanda, she's-" Before he could finish, Michael was interrupted by Amanda screaming, "Michael, the baby's coming! I can feel it!"

"Is that a good enough excuse?" Michael asked, turning back towards Trevor, who seemed wide awake now after figuring out what was happening. In Michael's arms, Tracey twisted halfway to look at Trevor, holding up her fur-rimmed hood to reveal her red and snot-covered face. She beamed when her blue eyes landed on the gruff man, holding out her arms to him. Trevor came forward and took her from Michael, grinning himself when the girl hugged him happily. The moment Tracey left his arms, Michael bounded for his car, Amanda laying down in the back seat with her head propped up with a pillow.

"Take care of her!" Michael shouted as he got into his car.

"I'll meet you there!" Trevor yelled back, shifting Tracey in his arms. Michael was already down the road when Trevor yelled after him.

In his trailer, Trevor successfully pried Tracey's arms from his neck, setting her down on his stained couch. The two year-old sat on the edge, her boots swinging back and forth as she watched her "uncle" jump into a pair of filthy jeans and pull on an equally dirty white T-shirt. He didn't even bother combing his thinning hair, which was sticking up in all directions. For nine months, he watched Amanda become more and more pregnant, and she and Michael both had agreed to keep the gender of their unborn child a surprise, seeing as how Amanda had done that when she was pregnant with Tracey. This was the moment they had all been waiting for and sometimes it felt like Trevor was more excited than the actual parents.

"We going somewhere?" Tracey asked, tilting her head to the side.

"You bet your pretty little head we are," Trevor said, pulling on his parka. "By tomorrow, you're going to be a big sister."

He came up to her, pulling his surrogate niece into his arms. It always amazed him just how light she was, always making him feel like one wrong move and she could break. The moment Trevor had met Amanda's little daughter, a certain protectiveness rose up in him that he had never experienced before, and the moment the girl stumbled over his name and hearing come out as T-rev-or, Tracey Townley had the man unknowingly wrapped around her finger. Trevor knew he could never be angry at her. Hell, all she had to do was look up at him with those big, blue eyes and he was a goner. Sometimes, Trevor felt like he was the only one that fell for that.

"Where we going?" Tracey asked, clutching at his shoulder as he headed for the door.

"To the hospital, hun."

"Why? Are you hurt?"

"Nope, but your momma needs you right now."

When he opened the door, he was immediately greeted by a harsh, bitterly cold wind, and he felt Tracey nuzzle his shoulder in an attempt to keep her face protected. For once, Trevor was glad he bought that attachable canvas for his Bodhi because winter in Ludendorff was merciless. Cold winds, frozen rain, and the snow never seemed to stop. Trevor wanted to move somewhere warmer, and he hoped Michael would want to, too. The only thing that kept him in North Yankton was the Townley family, specifically the two year-old in his arms.

"Fuck, it's cold out here," Trevor hissed, yanking the passenger door open. Plopping Tracey down in the seat, he strapped her in, slamming the door close.

When he slid in the driver's seat, he heard Tracey say, "Car seat?"

"Not today, sweetheart, not today."

It was ten in the morning when Michael walked out in the waiting room, eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep, but his body was relaxed and his expression was a mixture of relief and happiness. Amanda had dozed off after holding their new baby for a good half an hour, gushing over how his chubbiness was cute and asking Michael question after question on what should name their new baby boy. Michael had gotten to hold him, as well, for at least ten minutes before the nurse whisked the baby away to take the newborn to the monitoring room and finish the preparations. Having remembered Trevor yelling something about meeting him at the hospital, Michael had made his way to the waiting room to see if his crime partner had come or not.

What he saw stopped Michael in his tracks.

Trevor had come, bringing Tracey too. The man sat under the window, his head bent back and mouth agape as he slept. Little Tracey cuddled against Trevor's torso, her legs hanging over one side of her "uncle's" waist, and her mouth plugged by her thumb. Trevor's arms were wrapped around her, keeping her close to him and to prevent the girl from falling to the floor. The sight was one to behold, and to anyone who didn't know Trevor Philips, would've thought it was sweet that a man was caring for his little girl so much. But Michael knew the true Trevor Philips - violent, impulsive, unpredictable, and psychotic. Michael never questioned why Amanda didn't want her daughter around the man, and sometimes he didn't blame her, but when Tracey was involved, Michael always saw a softer side to Trevor he didn't think existed.

"Hey," Michael said, kicking Trevor's boot with his own. The gruff-looking man jerked awake and straightened in his seat, looking up at Michael with a questionable look. "It's a boy, Trev, a baby boy. Twenty-one inches and eight pounds. Amanda was in labor for seven hours before she finally gave birth, so she's asleep right now." Michael sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, but he chuckled when he heard Tracey give a breathy giggle in her sleep. "Sorry about dumping her on you this morning. I was a bit stressed and-"

"It's fine," Trevor cut in. "Good thing you came over because I would've skinned you alive if I found out your kid was born and you hadn't told me."

"That's a nice thought, Trevor, thanks." Jutting his thumb over his shoulder, Michael asked, "You wanna see the kid? He's in the baby room."

"Fuck yeah, I do. Let's go." The man stood as slowly as he could so as not to disturb a still sleeping Tracey. Trevor grinned as he followed Michael out of the room and said, "Let's just hope the kid takes after his mom and not his fat-ass dad. That'd be a tragedy."

"Shut up, Trevor."

Her tiny nose pressed against the glass, breath fogging up the window, and her grubby hands left behind fingerprints when she was pulled away by her father. Tracey clutched at Michael's shirt as she stared at her newborn brother, all bundled up in baby blue, with a awed expression. She was too young to comprehend where babies came from and for right now it was better that way. Michael had to wonder how well Tracey was going to cope with having another child around the house, a child that was going to take up a lot of his and Amanda's attention. Amanda had mentioned once that her daughter was pretty good at keeping herself entertained and didn't need to be paid attention to all the time, which was a good thing, Michael supposed. Still, if she did ever need attention...she had the maniac to keep her company.

"T, you're scaring the kids. Look. You just made that one cry," Michael said, tugging on Trevor's shoulder.

Trevor had his face squished up against the window, hands flat against the glass, leaving even grubbier fingerprints behind. Tracey thought it was funny that her Uncle Trevor was doing such a thing, so of course she wanted to do it too. Michael really hoped that the two wouldn't develop a 'monkey see, monkey do' sort of relationship, with Tracey trying to mimic everything her surrogate uncle did. He knew Amanda definitely wouldn't appreciate that kind of relationship.

"I'm not scaring them, Mike. She's just crying out of happiness because I'm here now."

"Yeah, I bet that's it, T."

"So," Trevor started, pushing away from the window to look at Michael square-on. "Does the boy have a name?"

"Not yet. We haven't really had time to sit down and talk about it. Amanda likes the name William, but...I don't know. He doesn't really look like a William."

"Well, what names do you like?"

Michael paused, thinking it over. "I've always liked the name Hank. Short, simple, tough-sounding. I like it."

"Hank. Hank... Hank." Trevor shook his head. "Nope. Can't do it."

"Why? It's a great name! Hank was the name of the main character in Last Will And Testament. Man, he kicked ass!"

"It just makes me think of hanky-panky," Trevor said, shrugging his shoulders.

Michael stared at the man for a moment, then sighed. "Thanks for that helpful insight, Trevor."

They went silent, just watching the nurse inside the baby room do her job in monitoring the infants. There were a total of seven babies - four girls and three boys. A warm feeling bubbled in the pit of Michael's stomach, knowing that one of the boys was his, that he was actually a father and not just a step-father. He helped create that child, that boy was his and no one else's. Michael couldn't help but fantasize about all the things he could teach his son in the future: how to play football, how to handle a firearm correctly, how to tell a good movie from a bad one, how to treat a lady properly, how to be a man. Michael knew he'd have to be careful about exposing his kids to his criminal lifestyle; he didn't want his son and step-daughter to follow in his footsteps. He wanted them to lead normal, healthy lifestyles...well...as normal and healthy as kids could live with a master thief for a father, a stripper for a mother, and an unstable psycho for an uncle.

"What about James?" Trevor said, his rough voice cutting into Michael's thoughts.

"James? Where'd that name come from?"

"There was this book I used to read-"

"Wait, you know how to read, T?" Michael laughed, enjoying the dirty look Trevor sent his way. "Just kiddin', bud. Go ahead."

Trevor cleared his throat and continued, "Well, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted like the fuckin' prick you are, there was this author named Jack Marston that wrote a book about his dad, an ex-criminal who turned into a family man after marrying a whore and having a son. Kind of like you, if you think about it. The book's old, though; Red Dead, that's what it's called." Trevor propped his arm against the window, leaning against it. "The dad's name was John, but Jack's son's name was James. James went on to write a western series based off his dad's stories. I just thought... I have a lot of respect for James Marston. He continued that legacy when he didn't have to."

Michael was quiet for a moment, taking in the story. "Jesus, Trevor, didn't know you could be so sentimental."

Trevor growled, "Fuck off. If you don't like it, then just go ahead and say it."

"I'm just messing with you. No need to get all defensive."

The two went quiet again. Michael shifted Tracey in his arms, who had nodded off a while back. Thankfully, his and Trevor's hadn't woken her.

"James, huh?" Michael questioned.

"Forget it. It was stupid."

"No. I like it. He looks like a James." Michael eyed the man beside him. "Do you think he'll write about me someday?"

"Maybe. You are one of the FIB's Most Wanted Criminals in America, remember?" Trevor replied. "The main character would have to have a ruggedly handsome, fuckin' badass pilot sidekick, of course, or else the book would be boring." The man grinned behind his mustache. "Because let's face it, behind all that crime-committing is a boring as fuck man who doesn't have that much to offer as a good, likeable character."

"You just said I was like John Marston and I know that book became a classic."

"Just because you have a few things in common doesn't make you badass like him. He never missed his targets, ever."

"Trevor...I never miss my targets either."

The mustached man glared at Michael for a moment before turning away from that smug man. "So, the first name's James, but what about middle?"

"Probably Michael, or at least I'm hoping Amanda will be okay with that."

"James Michael Townley," Trevor announced. The man almost sounded proud, like this was the biggest thing that had ever happened to him. "Sounds good. Better than Hank, at least."

Despite Trevor's jab at him, Michael still laughed. "You're such a prick."

So, I did alter the history of the Townley family. On the GTA wiki, it says that Michael met Amanda in 1993, had Tracey and Jimmy, and then got married. BUT, on the page for Tracey, it says she was born in 1991...hmmm. The wiki also says that Michael met Trevor in 1993, as well. In conclusion, I have no idea when everyone was born, so I went with this.

Also, I feel like the characters are OOC. This is my first GTA story and I haven't really grasped the characters' styles yet, so I hope I didn't butcher them too much. And I hope the whole how-Jimmy-got-his-name backstory was okay. I love how Rockstar put a Red Dead Redemption Easter egg in the game! XD So I went with it.

All in all, this story is going to be mainly Uncle Trevor/Tracey-centric with some Uncle Trevor/Jimmy, as well. When I played the Fame or Shame mission a second time, I was a little disappointed that that was really the only time Trevor and Tracey interacted with one another, especially after Trevor admitted to the fact he swore he'd beat down anyone who wronged her, and I feel like Trevor would do the same for Jimmy if need be. I started forming my own head canons and I just couldn't keep them to myself anymore. I had to write them down, so I hope you enjoy them!

Author's Note - Fin