Geoff steered the boat, the ocean spray flying up and hitting his face. The waves were hard and unforgiving, hitting the boat with incredible force. His head rocked every time they hit the ground, but he didn't care. Not at all.
The only thing he could hear was the sad whine of the engine on the boat, and the heavy breathing of Ryan behind him. He made a small grunt when they hit a wave particularly hard, but he kept his eyes trained forward and paid no more mind to their rough ride.
Guilt clouded his mind and filled his stomach, and it made him sick. It was his responsibility to keep the others safe. He should have been there to save them. He should have kept them safe!
He made the boat go a little faster, the ocean spray aggressively showering him. His life had been a never ending pile up of guilt - from killing innocent civilians to destroying apartment complexes, his regret had haunted him day and night. But this had become too much.
He let out a ragged sigh. They had all been like family to him. Though the same could not be said for the others, his heart pounded on, somehow, but with pain laced into each beat. Guilt was woven into his very blood like string in a tapestry. With each heartbeat, it coursed around his body in a new wave of pain only to be renewed again, and again, and again, and again, until it was almost too much to take.
Geoff's voice was the voice of a broken man. "They... they're all dead. How are they all dead?" Another wave pounded at the boat, making his head snap back and then fall down again. The ocean was angry, furious, trying its best to stop the men who had no right to walk away from this scenario, but the boat cut through the waves and carried on.
Ryan's quiet voice from the back answered him. "Well, we got away, didn't we?" Ryan, the very picture of nonchalance, responded without a single hitch in his voice or emotion bleeding through. He emanated an aura of deadly calm - something that Geoff found terrifying and comforting all at once (To know that at least something was the same.)
There was a hard silence as Geoff thought over Ryan's words - harsh but true. The others would have been glad to know that they had gotten away. They had, technically, achieved their goal. The money had been received and escaped with. And Ryan and Geoff were, although worse for wear, still alive. He took a while to collect words to say, but eventually he did say them. "Y-Yeah, I guess it's true... We got our money."
Ryan didn't take nearly as long to reply, and this time, his nonchalance was slipping away. "Right! So quit sulking n' bitchin' about things we can't change! It ruins the victory!"
Geoff, though always the one to wear his emotions on his sleeves, was never good with vocalizing his feelings. As sensitive as he might have been, he settled things physically. He punched what needed to be punched when aggression struck. He drove where he needed to drive when depression sunk in. He drunk what he needed to drink to forget his guilt. But he didn't have anything in the boat to punch that was reasonable, no sports car to drive away to a greater destination, and certainly no booze. He was stuck stewing in his emotions... and it was fucking with him something fierce.
What Ryan said didn't sit right with him, not at all. He couldn't call what they had done a victory - perhaps it was a success, but after all, those were two very different things. A success is accomplishing your goal. A victory is coming out on the winning side. Geoff and Ryan had gotten the money, but they had lost two thirds of the Crew, and that wasn't winning.
Geoff struggled to find the words to tell Ryan what he was thinking, but his head was a fucking mess that couldn't be sorted out. So instead he just said the first thing that came to his mind. "A victory... at - at what cost?"
Their names were burned into his brain, imprinted there with the sheer force of their loss. He could never forget their names and their stories no matter how many people he punched, no matter how far he drove, or how much booze he drank. Gavin. Jack. Ray. Michael.
He whispered their names, and remembered how each of them were. Gavin, making dumb jokes, asking stupid questions, getting them all to laugh when they needed it the most. Jack, attending to the other's wounds while ignoring her own, laughing at the others jokes, cleaning the flat and driving them everywhere. Ray, supplying them with sarcastic comments at all times, supporting them through it all, keeping them all safe. Michael, raging day and night, blowing shit up, and yelling good-naturedly at them all.
Gavin, blown up from collateral damage. Jack, shot down in the heat of the moment. Ray, hit by a car and shot by the cops. Michael, shot trying to avenge his friend.
Gavin, smiling widely. Jack, laughing to the point of tears. Ray deadpanning all the time. Michael, sniggering and some dumb joke.
Gavin. Jack. Ray. Michael.
Gavin. Jack. Ray. Michael.
Gavin. Jack. Ray. Michae-
"I know their damn names! For fuck's sake, Geoff - you don't get it!" Ryan's voice was filled with disbelief and anger. He ripped off his mask, and though it was dark, Geoff could still see Ryan's eyes pricking with tears the tiniest bit.
Geoff was so shocked he stopped paying attention to the boat for a moment, and it slowed to a stop. The waves were more gentle now that they weren't speeding along - the boat floated and bobbed slightly.
Ryan's voice was at its breaking point - a little frayed at the edges, giving way into deeper agony. "No matter the pain, no matter the regret, it doesn't matter! In the end, it doesn't matter how much you miss them! It doesn't matter how much you wanted to save them! It doesn't matter how much you loved them! And it doesn't matter that you never got to say goodbye! None of it matters!"
Ryan turned around, away from Geoff. He put his head in his hands, and his fingers grasped at his hair. "No matter what you do, it won't bring them back. In the end, it all chalks up to one - simple - fact."
Ryan turned around, his voice gritty and his eyes darker than Geoff had ever seen. Here he was, in his full terrifying glory - The Mad King.
"Alpha... Two... Wins..."
The barrel of a shotgun was staring Geoff in the eyes.
He closed his eyes in the face of death, and found himself repeating their names one final time.
Gavin. Jack. Ray. Michael. Geoff.