Hey everybody. I'm a new fic writer, so if I'm breaking any of the rules, please please please let me know.
Also, I don't or never will own any of the Saints Row characters, as they're property of Deep Silver and Volition games.
The current plan is to kill of a character per chapter until two characters are left, and in this chapter, of Johnny, Shaundi, and The Boss, Johnny dies first.
With that out of the way, this is a hurt/comfort deathfic, so, obviously, violence ahead.
Saints Row 4 spoilers ahead. Hope you enjoy!
Gat died first.
After they claimed the Zin Empire for themselves, the Saints, with the help of Zinjai, time-traveled back to Earth; to Stilwater. It was an exciting prospect for the Saints, for the boss especially. He was back home, where he'd killed his first cat, fucked his first prostitute…where he'd met Johnny Gat.
What Zinjai failed to tell them, was that they'd be traveling back to 2007, when the Vice Kings still ran the streets. There'd been problems, naturally, but nothing that hadn't been handled with ease in the past.
This time was different.
"For fucks sake, Johnny, do you have to bring that everywhere we go?" Shaundi was complaining once again as Gat had brought his favorite knife – a sword, more fittingly. The monster was four feet long, serrated, and had the handle of a knife, though further similarities ended there. "You know me Shaundi, always gotta show off." He smirked as he, Shaundi and the Boss dodged more incoming fire from the VK's. They'd taken shelter behind a VK truck, the banana yellow vehicle providing minimum cover for the trio.
The boss chided the two, his face masked with determination. He had to brush more silver hair from his face, piercing green eyes analyzing their situation. "Shut the fuck up kids. Daddy's at work, and he's kicking ass!" The muscle bound caucasian man popped up from cover to fire his beloved Krukov Assault Rifle at the incoming VK's, more than half falling to the hail of alloy. Blood painted not only the streets, but the trio of Saints as well. All of them had taken some form of injury, but Johnny seemed to have it the least. That is, until, things went to shit.
The Bosses gun clicked dry, cursing the lack of ammo. They'd only brought fifty clips per, and that should have been more than enough. Had the VK's not recruited.
Movement flashed in the corner of his eye, and he hurled his remaining grenade in the general direction of a flanking squad of Vice Kings. The attackers scrambled away from the shrapnel, and Johnny took the moment of confusion to fire his Krukov at the group, trademark smile on his face. Until a bullet entered his temple and exited the opposing side.
Sound left their world, the dull echoes and thuds distant background noise. It didn't seem real, neither to Shaundi or the Boss, as the wet, sickening thud of brain matter and skull would forever ring in their ears. It didn't seem real as Johnny's body fell, seemingly in slow motion, to the bloodied pavement. It didn't seem real as his glasses skidded off, cracked and dirty. The pool of blood could have easily been ketchup, or red juice. It seemed impossible, unreal, until Shaundi's scream broke the muffle over his ears. "JOHNNY!" Forgoing her cover, she rushed to her friends' fallen body on all fours, sobs wracking her body. The Boss, sad and pissed as he was, picked up Johnny's gun, which had fallen by his feet, and went out as well, providing cover for himself and Shaundi. He didn't know if he could get through to her, but he needed to try.
"Shaundi!" He popped a VK who was trying to flank them. "Shaundi!" An explosion as a bullet-riddled car detonated, taking five Vice Kings with it. Shaundi was still crying over Johnny, and the Boss wanted to cry too, but they had bigger problems. Another set of VK vehicles had pulled up, fresh Vice Kings eager to score a kill. "Shaundi! We gotta fucking move or we're dead too!" Cursing under his breath, he forced Shaundi to her feet, forced his Magnum into her hands, and shoved her along the road, taking cover behind a burned out brownstone. It wasn't optimal cover, but The Boss stopped for a half-second to pick up Johnny's signature sunglasses…it was the only thing he had time to take before they would have been swarmed.
As it were, they were still likely to be swamped in a matter of seconds, and they needed to get out of there. The Boss pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly swiping through his contacts to find the one he needed. Even as he worked, he could hear the commanding shouts of Tanya, ordering her soldiers to move up and flank the two Saints, and 'to bring her their heads.' His thumb tapped the screen, the ratcheting of assault rifle bolts hastening his process. Shaundi would be of no help, but it didn't matter; he found the right contact. Tapping twice, Zinjai picked up on the first ring. "Yes, your Excellency?" The calm demeanor pissed him off. "Get us the fuck outta here, ZJ!"
"But why, your Excellency? Don't you like being home?"
"ZJ, we're getting shot at! Gat's dead and Shaundi's a wreck. Get us out of here, NOW!"
"Right away, your Excellency."
The Boss felt strings pull at his being just as the VK's surrounded Shaundi and himself, and he would later state he felt the bullets pass through him, the time/space particles pulling himself and Shaundi forward in time. They flew through space, watched history unfold through vivid images, sounds, smells. Almost like a tunnel until they manifested in the hold of The Gat, their captured Zin ship.
Around the teleportation deck stood eager faces, which quickly fell when they counted only two returning. Even further when they saw Shaundi's and the Bosses face. Shock. Just pure, unfiltered shock. Naturally, nobody spoke as Shaundi dry-heaved on the transport deck. They remained silent and unmoving until Kinzie moved, got under Shaundi, and helped walk her to the facilities, where the sounds of retching could be heard soon after.
"Boss?" It was Pierce. "Gat's dead?"
"Gat's dead." It was a final statement; Gat was dead.