HEY GUYS! I was going to wait longer before I posted this. Updates mightn't be as thick and fast as they were with ASR; I'm trying to stay ahead of my own game this time. So, not only is this my first relatively original story line, but I'll also be dabbling in a bit of SciFi while I'm at it.
Without further ado...
I never much liked the rain.
As a child it would mean a cold an uncomfortable walk home from school. For a short time in my late adolescence it had meant a cold and uncomfortable night on the streets. Now, sitting in my high-rise, heated loft, the dark clouds and low rumbles of thunder were bringing something much more uncomfortable…
Memories. Nothing good had ever happened when it rained. Nothing normal. I can think back to some of the strangest or worst nights of my life and for some reason, it had always been raining. Like the night Carlos died. Or the day we buried Aisha. Now, staring out at the storm that was threatening to drench Steelport, I could sense the uncomfortable electricity in the air.
The thick dark clouds hadn't let the water fall, not yet anyway. But they would. This wasn't a sad storm, this was a dangerous one, it was an omen. Things had come to a head in Steelport between the Saints and the Syndicate and STAG and I had thought it was all over; Killbane had run like a little bitch, and I'd had to let him escape. I had a good reason of course, Kia, that STAG bitch had my friends. STAG and Monica Hughes were going to blow up Star Island and blame it on the Saints, killing Shaundi, Viola and even Mayor Reynolds in the process…
Them, or Killbane. C'mon, it wasn't even a choice.
So yeah, there you go. We were heroes, yay. STAG and Cyrus were shipped out of the city. Pierce's publicist had recommended I take the lead in the movie Ganstas In Space, seeing as it was based around me anyway. Her last move before I fired her, because for Chrissakes, I'm a gang leader, not a fucking Hollywood asshole. Why the hell did we even need a fucking publicist? In fact, I was through with this… this celebrity bullshit.
I huffed a discontented breath out and watched it make a smudge of white against the cold glass, slowly shrinking then disappearing. If anything, the black clouds cracking with lightning and thunder made the perfect backdrop. Heavy with rain… ready to unleash it at any moment.
Warning me that we weren't done. Not yet.
I lowered myself to the ground and crossed my legs, still staring out through the huge glass windows past the pool and helipad to the waiting city beyond.
Loren was dead, Matt Miller piked, Killbane had been unmasked and STAG had been cleared off. Still, I couldn't help but be tense.
There was a soft purr next to me and something warm and fuzzy nudged me on the elbow, lifting my arm up. I smiled and glanced to my side, seeing the tiger's huge, meaty head snuggling under my arm. He purred gently again, flopping down and resting his head and a paw over my leg.
"Sup Trubs?" I asked him with a smile, reaching out and scratching the tiger's rose-gold ears. Trouble was a beautiful boy, though a lot of animal rights activists weren't too impressed with my refusal to give him back to the Zoo and their breeding program. What the fuck ever, I could get him a girlfriend of his own whenever I felt like it. And he was happy here anyway.
"You are happy here, right?" I asked quickly. Trouble licked his nose and purred, making me smile a little more, "That's right, you don't get meow-mix and fried chicken at the Zoo, do you?" I chuckled and ruffled his chubby, fluffy cheeks. There was debate with a few other Saints on whether or not 'Trouble' was probably an appropriate name for an enormous and very toothy Siberian tiger, but he was (in my personal opinion) very, very sweet. Naturally I hadn't thought that at first. Of course it's hard to think of a tiger as adorable and sweet when he's been starved and stuffed into the back of your car.
Three months previously...
I strode across the pavement from Angel's gym in a huff, rolling my eyes. People thought I was nuts, but there's me, and then there's this guy. I stuck a cigarette between my lips and impatiently drew out my silver flick lighter, striking up the flame and sucking back on the sweet smoke. I'd taken the addiction back up ever since-
… Ever since I'd landed in Steelport.
My hand shook a little when I flicked away the ash. Realising I'd stoped in my tracks I started impatiently marching towards the curb again, shaking thoughts from my head. Conquer your fear, Angel had said. God damn that guy was a douchebag. Conquer my fear of what? I'd been through way more shit than he ever could have and came out the end of it okay. I slumped down into my Hammerhead and yanked the door shut, resting my head against the steering wheel for a moment and clumsily fiddling my keys into the ignition.
There was a weird smell in here. Something kind of dusty and warm over the smell of leather and oil. I didn't really care though; it was probably just some junk food wrappers I'd thrown into the back of the car. My fingers twisted the keys and the engine purred into life with a deep, satisfying rumble, and I tore out from the curve, tyres screaming and smoking in the sudden acceleration and engine growling. I blinked. That didn't actually sound like the engine… whatever. I pulled the car up onto the overpass, the quickest route to the far West island and then when full throttle, letting the animalistic car run free around me.
Another snarl, not from the car, but from something behind me. In the car. My gaze flicked up to the rear view mirror to see something grumpily waking up in the back seat, and suddenly a pair of furious yellow eyes were staring right back at me.
"AAAAAARRRRRGH!"
A tiger! There's a fucking tiger in my car! What the fuck?
The angry cat roared over my sudden shriek and reached a huge honey and white paw out, smacking me on the head; the sheer force of it was bad enough but its claws were friggen sharp, and I could feel a cut starting to leak blood through my hair. The car swerved and scaped against others either side of me. I yanked at the handle on the door, even more dread filling my body when I realised it was fucking locked. Rigged.
"Fuck! Fuck!" Fuck you De La Muerte, fuck you!
The angry cat was snarling and crawling into the front of the car and suddenly I had a face full of tiger ass with it's tail whacking me in the eyes – I tried pushing the thing out of my way so I could see and the bitey end of the animal turned and snapped at me threateningly, but not before I saw the car was now racing rapidly into the back end of a truck. I slammed the brakes quickly and needless to say, my new feline friend wasn't a fan of that. He smacked me hard again and I couldn't help but yelp out, swerving the car and scraping hard against the concrete barrier between the road and sending sparks flying up the side. He didn't seem to like that either and began to panic even more, snarling, roaring and snapping, moving about so violently in the car it was rocking the whole thing and making it nearly impossible not to drive right off the damn overpass.
"CHILL OUT! CHILL THE FUCK OUT!" I shouted at the animal and it replied with a roar that nearly sent me deaf in my right ear. Then I did something that was probably very, very stupid. I reached out and smacked it on the nose.
I nearly lost my hand at that point, but the tiger decided to turn its anger on the car, tearing at the seat and trying to eat the dashboard, using its massive, powerful jaws to tear huge chunks out of the plastic. Still, that was preferable to eat eating me. I began to take deep, long breaths, trying to calm down and get the car straight again, slowing a little. The tiger was starting to wail, clearly just as freaked out as I was, poor thing.
Poor thing? I'm the one trapped in a speeding car with a hungry tiger!
"Okay buddy, take it easy now," I said, trying to hide the panic from my own voice. The tiger was huffing and snarling, and staring at me furiously, teeth bared. But he wasn't attacking.
"Alright, see?" I huffed with my voice about three octaves too high, "We're all friends here." My right hand slowly moved to the pistol that was faithfully strapped to my thigh. Endangered species or not, if that thing was going to attack me I'd have to plug it. I'd survived a lot of things, but being eaten alive by a tiger while getting in a highway pile-up seemed like a tricky one to get out of.
I glanced sidewards at the tiger again, which was still glaring at me, snout crinkled in a snarl. Its wide pink tongue leapt out to lick its nose.
"You huh, you wouldn't want to," I said as calmly as I could, "I don't really take care of myself, I'll probably taste like a pickled boot. I smoke too so the chest insides are gonna be all… tar and stuff. Yucky, you hear?"
The cat licked its nose again and growled. Finally it turned its hungry gaze away from me and out the window, moaning at the scenery that whipped by and lowered its head. Slowly I took my hand off the gun.
"See? Not so bad, is it?" I said shakily. It purred. Or growled. I stayed quiet for a while after that, trying to keep an eye out for the turnoff that would get me on my way back to Angel's gym so I could straight-up murder his ass. Eventually, I heard a soft schlep schlep and glanced to the animal again – it was licking its paw and starting to clean its face, seeming much calmer now, though occasionally making a low, unhappy moan. It stuck its head down in front of the seat and began snuffling through the littered bits of trash. Eventually it came up again, chewing on an old burger wrapper.
"Hey! Hey drop that! Yuk, don't eat it!" I snapped, reaching out and ripping the wrapper from its mouth and tossing it into the back. Man, I need to clean out my car. The tiger roared at me unhappily and I frowned.
"What, you're hungry? That's it?"
It licked its nose again. I sighed, "Yeah man, I get the shits when I'm hungry too. Angel not feed you on purpose?"
It snarled and looked back out the window. I twisted my lips thoughtfully as I pulled down onto the exit.
Tegan chewed her thumbnail absently, clicking the speaker on with her free hand.
"Welcometo Frecklebitches whatcannI Getyou?" she sighed, chewing a little harder to try and tear the overly long nail off. She blinked at the answer on the line though-
"Yeah hey, can I get a fist with fries, a diet coke swallow and huh… whaddyou want? OW! Hey! No. Sit down!"
Tegan glanced up at the black and white monitor – it was a trashed looking muscle car, the driver eventually leaning back out the window again, looking a little flustered.
"Yeah, a bucket of bazooms, the big one."
Tegan frowned and quickly typed in the order, leaning forward to speak through the microphone, "That'll be twenty-four-fifty, next window please," she said flatly, though her curiosity was still piqued. She glanced out the window as the dark purple car rounded the corner and slid up to a halt at the side window – behind her Trey plopped the large paper bags down on the counter, walking off and scratching a spot on his chin absentmindedly.
"Gross," she muttered, picking up the bags with one hand and the coke with another, leaning back out the window.
"Twenty-four-fifty pl-" she went to repeat, but a sudden sheik burst out of her chest – a huge Siberian tiger reached out a meaty paw from the window and snarled, roaring at her – she dropped the food with a sudden yelp and fell back into the window, scrambling to close it and slamming the security lock down, staring down at the car on the other side. The woman inside the car was snapping something at the animal and stuffing it back into the passenger's seat – she looked down to the bags of food on the pavement and spilt coke, sighing and throwing up her hands, trying to get the car door open then eventually leaning out the window to grab the bags. The tiger's face flashed briefly again as it snatched a bag from her hands, ripping it open. The driver was yelling at the animal as fried chicken breasts fell about inside the car; finally the woman looked up to Tegan expectantly, scowling and pointing to the spilt drink outside her car. What, she expected a refill? Tegan gasped and threw up her hands, shaking her head quickly. The woman scowled, shouted something Tegan couldn't hear past the bullet proof glass, and finally stuck her finger up at the girl, tearing away out of the drive-thru.
Everyone had been astounded (some horrified) when I'd introduced them to my new house pet. It hadn't exactly been like bringing a kitten back from the SPCA; there were certainly a few issues with house breaking. Him trying to eat furniture. Him trying to eat people, but then I always said that was their fault because they should know that Trouble was becoming very protective of me. It didn't get much better when we started realising he was still growing. Turns out he was the tiger equivalent of a teenager when he'd been stuffed in the back seat of the Hammerhead, and in the few months that we'd been fighting the Syndicate and STAG, he'd gone from a slight 340lbs and just about doubled in size and weight, having hit 600lbs last time I checked. As far as I could see, my baby boy was still growing. Living on a healthy diet of catfood, junkfood, steaks, lamb carcass and the occasional Decker would do that to a tiger.
"Porker," I teased, scruffing a chubby cheek again. He looked at me haughtily and reached up, playfully mouthing my jaw and I humoured myself he might have been making a joke in rebuttal. Despite his size, I really believed Trouble was perfectly safe now (unless I instructed him otherwise) and even let him sleep on the end of my bed. Pierce had been the one to convince others to just give up and let me keep my tiger. I even remember overhearing his argument to the others-
"C'mon, it's the first time I seen her smile since… the bank heist."
I shivered; I knew what he was going to say. Not that it mattered, because Johnny would be coming home soon. He would be. Any day now.
He had to.
Trouble purred gently and stood up again, nuzzling his face into mine worriedly.
"You have to be nice when you meet him. No mauling, okay?" I said. Trouble just nuzzled me a little harder – sweet thing, knew when I was upset. I looped my arms around his neck and sighed, resting my head against his.
"Good Pusspuss," I smiled, scratching his back, "Who's a good kitty?"
He purred, flopped down and rolled onto his back, stretching his long frame out expectantly and I almost smiled again, reaching out and giving him a hearty scratch over his fluffy belly.
"Now, I have to wonder if you kept the animal to prove your bravery, or just so you could make giant pussy jokes."
Trouble snarled and rolled up onto his feet, growling and flicking his tail angrily and I followed his gaze to the figure behind me; Angel stood at the end of the sofa, leaning against the armrest and watching me curiously. He still wore that faithful, thin purple hoodie but for the first time that was where the gym gear stopped. The wrestler's boots and… spandex wrestlers pants had been replaced by simple jeans and sneakers. Spandex. What guy who's not Wolverine gets around wearing spandex all the time? Worse still, is that I had to admit the seasoned Latino somehow managed to pull it off.
I couldn't help but bristle when I saw him, it was the first time he'd been back to the hideout since Killbane had escaped. I'd gotten plenty of angry phonecalls from him, the expected 'where's your pride' stuff but to see him here was a little surprising. Trouble was getting angry now, circling me, his three-foot tail whipping about and he crinkled his nose at Angel.
"… What's his problem?" Angel asked, nodding to the cat and I folded my arms across my chest.
"He doesn't like you," I said flatly. Trouble snorted in agreement.
"… I'm guessing he's not the only one?" Angel offered and I raised an eyebrow.
"I've got nothing against you. Trouble sit," I said and the tiger growled bitterly, settling down in front of me but not taking his eyes off Angel. I reached out and softly scratched him on the ears again, and the tiger started to relax. I tilted my head as I looked back up to Angel, "You can't really blame him, can you?" I offered. Angel shrugged.
"An animal is an animal."
"This animal will kill on command," I said, feeling a little sinister as I ran a hand down Trouble' back. Angel was undaunted; if anything there was a flicker of a smile across his previously serious scowl. But he didn't say anything, so eventually I spoke up.
"I'm surprised to see you back here," I said lowly, "What do you want?"
Angel looked away from me then, the dark scowl back over his eyes. He shifted, pulling something from his jeans back pocket. A crumpled piece of green fabric.
"The mask?" I asked dryly – Angel glowered first at it then to me.
"I wanted to know if you'd be willing to help me. Find him," he said, scrunching Killbane's mask up into his hand. Trouble's purr rumbled deep in his chest and I quickly reached out a hand to scratch at his ears again.
"The last time we spoke," I said slowly, pensively, "You called me a selfish, sellout puta."
"I was angry."
"No shit."
Trouble's tail flicked and his nose crinkled again at Angel – the cat was reacting to my own repressed anger, sensing my feelings like he was a witch's familiar. Angel looked away and shifted again – I got the feeling it was bruising his ego being here. Good.
"I can't get Killbane without you," He admitted, fixing me with a panther-like stare.
"-Well, looks like you're up shit creek then," I said haughtily, turning properly to lean back against the glass, stretching my legs out and crossing my feet elegantly at the ankle. Trouble sprung up lithely and draped himself across my lap as if he were an ordinary housecat – I didn't let Angel see how vastly uncomfortable it was.
"I know you want to get him as much as I do! We need to make him pay-" Angel tried again, shaking the fist with the mask scrunched up in it at me. I raised an eyebrow.
"Give me one reason, why I should still work with you?" I offered darkly. Angel's response wasn't the right one.
"Because you owe me!" his deep voice shot like thunder and he threw the mask down at my feet. Trouble responded for me, his head lifted suddenly and he gave a short, snarling roar at Angel, fangs bared. To his credit, the man didn't flinch. Froze up a little, but that was all and when he spoke again he'd forced his tone to be level.
"I could have stopped him if you were there."
"Sadly Angel that's not the answer I was looking for," I said calmly, running a hand over my Tiger's soft fur again. I could see Angel's frustration – he gritted his teeth and sat down on the sofa, leaning forward, arms rested heavily on his elbows.
"I'm not going to apologise."
"Unfortunate."
"But I'm… willing to admit you were… right," he finished, sounding like he'd as easily vomit the words than say them. I narrowed my eyes at him, and eventually he continued.
"What you said last time we spoke-"
"-Last time you called up to have a cry at me, you mean?"
"Will you stop that?" he shot at me again. He was by far the most... intense person I'd ever met and clearly he was getting sick of me needling him. I wasn't; I just stared back at him levelly till he was willing to continue. "When I asked you why you let him get away. And you said that while ever he was alive, he could be killed, but you only had one chance to save your friends. I wasn't really listening then but I started thinking about it more, and you were right."
I ached to make a sarcastic remark but held back. In my silence, he continued, "So I don't blame you for choosing your friends, especially since Johnny Gat's dea-"
My hand froze mid-stoke on Trouble's fur and my fingers spasmed, gripping the tiger's skin. Trouble looked up to me worriedly and quickly licked my face a few times, his low purring breaking through the dry, white-noise that had suddenly filled my head like a protective blanket around my sanity.
Eventually it faded and I was back and vaguely aware that Angel had still been talking, and was now looking at me expectantly.
"…What?" I said with a quick shake of my head. Angel frowned a little worriedly.
"Will you help me…?" he repeated earnestly, "Please."
I blinked at the 'please'; he looked worn down and I felt all of his hopes suddenly resting on my shoulders. I decided to end his torture.
"I've had Kinzie searching for him ever since he left Steelport," I admitted, "Every now and then we get a blip, but he's jumping about a lot. She says we'll be closing in soon. When we find him, you'll be the first to know."
Angel's eyes widened and a heavy, grateful breath escaped him.
"Thankyou," he breathed. Behind me, thunder rumbled around the buildings and the blackened skies opened to unleash the flood on Steelport.
It's good to be back ;)