Sad len 2
Trevor feels fucking great. They've just pulled off the biggest heist of their entire lives and they've gotten away with nothing more than a crashed car. He feels on fire; practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with adrenaline. Michael's face grabs his attention from his victory. He's smiling, but a somber expression briefly crosses his face. Trevor will have to tell him to not be so melodramatic after they get to the chopper.
Nonetheless, he grins manically back, shifting his weight from leg to leg as he walks with his group. Boom. A gunshot blasts near him, and Trevor scans the area. Wait. A foreign burn courses through him, and he clutches his chest as he falls to the ground.
Mikey?
Michael's eyes are red and watering over, and Trevor wants to reach for him. The pain is unbearable, and Trevor realizes that he's going to die. Another gunshot. Michael crumbles to the ground next to him. Hot, sickly red blood covers T's icy fingers, and he feels Michael brush them against his own. He feels the familiar, irrational anger pulsing through his veins. He wants to kill whoever dare shoot Michael. Tear them limb from limb, torture them, and just when they think they're dead….
The world is turning into shades of black and white and any other color he's never seen before, his anger slowly fading away.
He struggles to even open his eyes.
His chest is heaving, and when he pulls his hand away from it, its sticky with his blood. He groans painfully and notices that Michael's eyes haven't left his. Brad is shouting curses at the officers shooting at him, pausing for only a moment to watch as Trevor writhes around pathetically next to Michael. Trevor's breathing is heavily lumbered, it coming in quick gasps of air as Trevor struggles to remain conscious. He hates to let Michael see him like this; shame and desperation filling his chest. He musters up the last ounce of strength he has and grits his teeth.
"I love you, Mikey." Trevor wants to yell it for the whole world to witness, but instead it comes out as a hoarse whisper.
If he's about to die, he's glad that Michael is with him. He always did say that he'd rather be thrown from this world in a blaze of glory with him rather than anything else. But this isn't glorious; coughing up blood and scrambling to control his burning nerves isn't glorious. He's going to die under the North Yankton's graying sky and a blanket of snow.
"I-I love you too, Trevor." Michael responds weakly, pain flitting across his tear-stained face.
With those words, Trevor's tired bones warm up the smallest bit. He's wanted to hear those words since he first met Michael on that runway decades back. He was a scrawny, terrified kid with no one there for him and now, it feels just the same. He smiles softly at Michael's words anyways, and shuts his eyes. In his last moments, he doesn't think of Amanda or Ryan or even Michael. He thinks of his beautiful mother, and how she'll feel never getting to see her devoted son every again. He mulls over if she's ever been proud of him.
He hears Michael's distant crying over the shouting and the booming gunshots and wonders if Tracy and Jimmy will be okay without their father and Uncle T. Then he's just gone.