Chapter IV

Just as soon as Michael had been accommodated in Sasha's Bedroom for the night. Sasha herself had retreated into her Living Room. Where her favored couch awaited her. There sat upon the coffee table was a new liquor bottle of hard whiskey she had hidden away for the evening. Breaking its seal, Sasha took a swig.

Snatching her phone off her kitchen counter, seeing if anyone had texted or called her while disconnected with Michael. Several more missed calls, a voicemail and a text lit up on her screen. All left by Marcello. "Hey there, baby sister. The family is worried about you. As usual. Checking in to see if you're well. Grandfather noted that when things get rough and you need time to think you have a tendency to drop off the map and reappear when you're capable of having your thoughts. Be safe, won't you? Update us soon."

"I would never abandon the family name, Marcello. Just give me a few days. No one in our family never understood my passion and love for Lance. I know my loyalty has been questioned, but I just need time." Sasha texted back, placing her phone next to Michael's. Something that had her double take. "Did you leave it here? I thought you would have wanted someway to repair your phone. I suppose not."

With all things considered, Sasha knew that down in her heart and somber thoughts Lance wouldn't allow her to live anything down. That even with his passing. She would return to her family and life would move on. "Take all the time and space you need in the world." Lance would remind her. "You don't quit on family."

There had been another swig taken from the whiskey bottle. Sasha was praying that it would hit her hard. Anything to drown out Lance's Voice from her recent memory. "Fuck." She muttered to herself repeating until she found herself snug on her living room sofa. What if Michael wasn't a part of this equation? Would she have ran? It was hard to say. The path would gain her nothing to walk alone. Yet here she was with a stranger she hardly knew.

Perhaps Sasha wasn't as alone as she wanted to convince herself. Fighting in an abyss with no solid ground. She could have been falling forever. Would it have mattered then?

"What did I just tell you about moderation?" There had been a strange delay on Sasha's part. No concept of time swept passed. All she could tell was that someone had been sitting on the coffee table in front of her. That someone being Michael. It didn't take her long to reach such a drunken state.

As Sasha was going for another swig, Michael had stopped her. She aggressively wanted to shove him from taking a source of comfort away from her. "I thought we had an agreement that my place would be one of Sanctuary, Mr. DeSanta. Not of judgement."

"You're not of any use to me dead, kid." Michael answered, placing the whiskey bottle behind the coffee table and out of Sasha's arms reach. "You might not agree with the sheer concept of death, but alcohol isn't helping your circumstance by a long shot. You might as well be killing yourself. Which you are by using substances that are within your control."

"You're not my life coach, Michael. I didn't ask for your advice how to grieve."

"You want to do this the hard way?" Michael asked with a snarky tone. "All right. Fine. Let's do this the hard way." Sasha's face was brought into view as they had made eye contact. "I may not be your life coach. I'm fair enough to call myself some schmuck off the shore you randomly encountered-" There had been a strain of worry before Michael's eyes. "-but as your friend. The life of someone you saved in a state of need... I would even agree with you by understand the want to drink..."

"Michael-"

"However if you don't moderate what is within your control you could end up dead."

"Funny that you lecture me knowing well how much you drink yourself."

Michael threw a comeback at her. "I still have more self control than you. Seeing you like this. Knowing you want to continue convincing yourself that you're alone. That as you drop further into that darkness. It's a reminder to me that even if by chance it's good to have people interfere-"

"Really, Michael?"

"Sasha. It's true that sometimes family or others interfering into our lives can be a bit extreme or controlling in some aspects. People nagging one another doesn't help our situation when we believe we're lost in that abyss. It's true that unless they don't experience it themselves- they will never grasp the concept why you would want to forget."

"Is there a point to this lecture, Michael?"

Michael cupped her face in the palm of his hand. "When in a state of need or desperation... Substances such as drugs and alcohol can end up being our own demise. I am also willing enough to understand your mental illnesses to an extent. However if you ever feel the need to use more of an external substance to worsen the process. You become the problem. Not the solution. Unfortunately in your circumstance it only took the events of losing someone as dear to you as Lance for you to snap. You shouldn't have to feed into that misery."

Tears swelled up into Sasha's eyes as she gripped both of her hands on Michael's right wrist. "I'm not detached from the world completely, Michael. I have family that care for me. I just prefer the lifestyle of an introvert. I can get through this alone. Everything is within my self control. There isn't anything to worry about."

"Bullshit, Sasha." Michael spat out at her. Calling her out on her self abuse. "You're trying to drink yourself into an illusion that isn't there. In the morning all you'll receive is a hangover. Something even I have regretted the next morning because I was better off talking to someone. I've walled myself enough to those around me. Even my own family. You think this is all unknown territory?"

"What if I don't want to remember? I know that this too shall pass. I just..."

Michael began stroking Sasha's hair with his left hand, giving her a small amount of reassuring comfort. "I know, sweetheart. Someday we all die. That's just a fact today. Don't make it a regret towards others tomorrow. Life is unfair when it comes to situations out of our control. That's why it's important to handle what we can control. It's what we can do as a human race. It's what we can teach to future generations so that we survive."

Sasha had crumbled with her fogged sight. "I'm so scared, Michael. I'm afraid of being alone. Lance was the only one in my family who didn't judge me in the end. I owe me world to a man who didn't even tell me of his cancer. All the while my family believed it to be the most selfish final motive he could have pulled. When he died. A part of me might as well died with him in the end."

Michael had drew Sasha closer, kissing her forehead. "Let me assure you that Lance would be devastated to see you in this state. I may not know much, but I know enough to say that no one you love would want to see you grieving in a state where you shouldn't be left alone."

"What am I supposed to do, then?"

Sasha's question had Michael process with a clear head what steps needed to be taken. "Stay here. Not like you're going anywhere, but I'll be right back."

Michael had disappeared into Sasha's bedroom. Emerging into the living room where Sasha blatantly couldn't think for herself. He had wrapped the blanket around her. Confusing had entered Sasha's vulnerable state. Michael had moved his right leg around Sasha as he motioned for her to lay down with him.

Easing her into him, Michael had snuggled Sasha into his embrace. "It's okay. Try and breath. Get some rest if you can. Keep talking to me. Anything to make yourself feel better. I'm still here until morning. Remember?"

"You don't even know Lance. Why would it matter to you?"

"I didn't ask for your attitude, Sasha. I want you to know you're not alone in this battle. You don't have to be alone in this battle. I'm here."

Sasha had did what Michael had instructed. Talking to him while he listened into the later hours of the night. Nothing could tell if Lance rivaled his own experience through life, but if Michael himself had to guess who Lance was... he sounded more akin to a police officer. Always doing what's righteous against the cruel of this world. Those minutes became hours. Ones that had Sasha drift off into a deep slumber.

With Michael assuring that Sasha had been asleep by the time he moved, his right hand reached for the light source behind him. Clicking off the light as darkness swallowed them whole. Just for tonight, Michael didn't abandon Sasha to sneak back into her bedroom to rest alone. His breathing turned into a drawn out yawn. As he too drifted into an unconscious state of mind. For now, Michael's presence was enough for Sasha. That's all that mattered.

There had been an abrupt ray of sunshine that rudely blinded Michael's sight. He had grumbled, feeling Sasha just below him. She had been snoring slightly in his arms. This made him smile, yet knowing it had it be short lived. Michael took a deep breath, having air enter his lungs. He had stroked Sasha's hair, processing what needed to be done. Shifting from his spot under Sasha, he carefully placed her unconscious body in his spot.

Stretching, Michael made his way to his dead phone. There had been a sigh of disappointment. His phone was dead. Of course. It must have been a subconscious motive to check who might had attempted communication since his disappearance a few days prior. Sasha's own phone had caught his attention. Hers still functioned.

Though Sasha's phone had a low battery, Michael had plugged it into the nearby outlet. As her screen had lit up confirming its charge. Something had caught Michael's attention. A text from someone named Marcello. "I'll check in on you in a few days, then little sister. You also received a phone call from Grandfather. He wants you to call him when you have the chance. Don't be a stranger now, you hear? ~Marcello".

Michael had greatly considered prying into Sasha's Family Life, but he had not interest in draining his energy to frantic members of her family that would ask the same questions. His mind knew that he needed to be more significant.

Opening Sasha's Phone Contacts, he found her primary phone number and other smaller details listed. Memorizing her phone number, Michael had dug around her kitchen. Locating a typical pad and pen to write, he jotted down Sasha's Number and stuffed it into his left shirt pocket. Technically it wasn't prying to a degree seeing that Sasha allowed Michael into her place of Sanctuary.

Glancing back at his passed out companion. Michael knew well there wouldn't be a time frame of her waking upon his departure. So another game plan came to mind as he considered it hitting two birds with one stone.

Tearing off an extra page to the writing pad, Michael had almost bolted out the door only to return by Sasha's side. Kneeling over, Michael had kissed her left temple as she had shifted in her sleep. "I'll be back soon. I promise." He whispered, getting back to his feet. Soon after snatching his dead phone.

Stealthy departing Sasha's home, hustling back down to Golden Buns Cafe. Michael had been confident enough that they would allow him to use their phone. The staff there were already familiar with him, after all.

Upon entering the cafe and bakery, one of the waitresses wished him a good morning as she approached him to take his order. Michael considered all what needed to be accomplished. "Hi there, Good Morning." He greeted back.

"Is there anything I can get for you this morning, sir?" His waitress asked.

"A few things. You see..." Michael had showed his dead phone. "I'm trying to call a cab. Can I use your phone?"

"Oh! Yes. Certainly-"

"-And... I would like to order a couple of your pumpkin scones. You deliver, right?"

The waitress took out her pad to write out Michael's Order. "What can I help you out with?"

"I would like to make a morning delivery for one of the pumpkin scones to a friend of mine at 4401 Procopio Drive. There's also going to be a note to be enclosed with it... if that's all right."

"Not a problem. It will be extra charge."

"Sure. Thanks." Michael's waitress had disappeared behind the counter to reappear with a landline wireless phone for him to use. Trying to recall from a haze, Michael had dialed the Downtown Cab Company. Lucky for him, they answered promptly. "Hey, yes. Can you send a cab to Golden Buns Bakery in Paleto Bay?"

"We'll be there shortly, sir. Thanks for your call."

Michael had hung up, placing the landline phone on the other edge of the bakery counter as he focused in on writing Sasha a note. He stole one of the notes at the register, scratching away on the paper about how he had to leave. Though filled with remorse. He had to let others know he was alive and well. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

Folding the note, Michael had placed it with the pumpkin scone Sasha originally introduced this small delight. It wasn't only a return for such a discovery, but his own gesture to thank her for now. His mind was preparing to enter the chaotic world of Los Santos.

Munching on his pumpkin scone, Michael waited for his cab service to arrive. More than eager to depart once it came into view. "Hey there. Where can I take you?" His driver asked.

"Portola Drive. Rockford Hills." Michael directed, knowing well the charge would be a little outrageous just for the drive in town.

Settling into the backseat, Michael took a deep breath. Rubbing both his face and eyes in exhaustion. This gave him time to think and process about all that took place these passed two days. As Paleto Bay disappeared in the cab's rear-view mirror, Michael couldn't help to think he wouldn't see Sasha again.

Yet Michael knew it was all untrue. Certainly he would see Sasha again. All he had to do was make time. Searching his pockets once more, Michael had retrieved the piece of paper written regarding Sasha's Home Address and Phone Number. Pieces of an overall puzzle were falling into place. Something had clicked as Michael rejoined the world of Los Santos.

Seeing the lights, Michael quickly changed his mind as to where his destination headed. Leaning forward, he informed his driver. "Actually can you drop me off at El Burro Heights? Thanks a lot pal."

Another possibility had came to mind: Lester Crest

In no time at all, the cab driver pulled into the shifty neighborhood where Lester resided. "Thanks, man. A little extra for the minor inconvenience." Michael graciously paying for his ride watching as the cab driver disappeared before making his way through the neighborhood and where Lester's home resided.

Climbing to stairs to Lester's porch, Michael had knocked on Lester's door. There had been movement from Lester's security camera. "Come on, Lester. Open up. There's something important I need to converse to you about."

"Couldn't you have at least announce you were visiting today?"

"Don't get smart with me, tough guy. Open up. I'm here because I could use an old friend. Someone of your expertise."

"You always need someone of my expertise, Michael." Lester commented, unlatching his front door remotely.

Michael had let himself through the front door and into the crowed little home. Gun Locker precautions as per Lester's usual self. Some things never changing. "Now normally, I would ask why you would be dropping by unannounced. However. That changes because Franklin called because both him and Trevor have been wondering where you disappeared." Lester explained as he wheeled himself out near the doorway closest to Michael.

"I'm quite aware I've been gone for a few days."

"Are you now? Was there a good enough reason as to why you couldn't have called them or allow me to track you down?"

Lester had received his response by Michael throwing his water damaged phone into Lester's lap. "Do you think you can salvage my phone?"

"Is that all I'm good for you now, Michael? Phone repair?"

Lester had not been amused as the both of them were lead into Lester's main room of operations. Small computer in the corner. Several servers functioning and a detailed map of Los Santos nearby. Lester preoccupied, pulled up-to his main hub.

Lester glanced at Michael's phone only to give him a look of examination. Already suspicious. "Have you tried putting your phone in rice?"

"Very funny, Lester. Look. Our job was a bust. The guy you wanted me to investigate? One of the Penthouse top residence? Well it seems like you weren't kidding when you mentioned they have a knack for running people out of town."

"And yet here you are. Still standing in front of me."

"Yeah if it weren't for one person."

"Who?" Michael had brought to Lester's attention Sasha's credentials written on paper. "Is that a date or some random? What do you want me to do about this, Michael?"

"I want you to find out about Sasha Reeves."

"So what? Do you have an obligation to her? I'm not exactly motivated. Find someone else."

"I got myself into trouble. If it wasn't for her. I wouldn't be here standing in front of you-"

"-Let me guess you want me to wire her some money?"

"That's a nice gesture, Lest, but it's more complicated than that."

"Then what are you asking, Michael?"

"I just worry about her mental health. Keep tabs? Let me know what she's battling? Anything that might be of use?"

"You're asking awfully a lot out of some random."

"You still owe me that favor, Lester. I got you that information regarding several people over at the Diamond Casino. Even got myself shot. Now are you going to pay me back for the work I did for you or not?"

If one could argue with Michael's Logic, Lester could not. It was complicated when Michael was driven. Dedicated to a goal. Perhaps a trait Lester could have reasoned better with other the years, but adapted to well. "Fine. Fine. I got her information memorized already. Give me at least 48 hours. I'll call you with the details."

"When I get a new phone." Michael joked.

"You should return home to your family. I'm sure they're worried sick about you." There was something Michael had agreed upon.

"All right. I'll have a new phone by the end of today. Don't let me down, Lester. I'm counting on you."

Thus Michael departed Lester's house for now in favor of returning back to a somewhat normal routine.

With the credentials Michael gave Lester. He was already hard at work trying to find information about Sasha Reeves. Mainly out of curiosity as to why Michael had found Sasha of importance. Michael would have walked away from any given situation. A Life Debt on the other hand was just that: A Life Debt.

Lester entered Sasha's information into the Digital White Pages. Several websites soon followed. All the way prior to the now completely abandoned My Room Website of the cliche 2000s. Everyone had lived on Life Invader these days, but a little bit more of a lead never hurt anyone when gathering intel.

Cross-referencing never hurt anyone. Lester knew this well. Older websites were vulnerable, but at one time or another everyone had a My Room Account just like the onslaught of current social media. No one was exactly paranoid. They all had allowed themselves to be under equivalence.

The search for the specific Sasha Reeves that Michael wanted wasn't that hard to gather information about. There had been several others under the same name, but what stood out was Sasha's Mobile Phone Number. Lester had been smart enough to catch himself overlooking the smaller details.

Something that immediately caught his attention was how Sasha, though true to her name had several decoy leads. Pages about fake information. Making it as if though it had been an ongoing habit to hide in plain sight. "I commend you for giving me a challenge, Ms. Reeves. Someone like you wouldn't have caught the attention of Michael. You must have been one hell of a catch for him."

"4401 Procopio Drive. Yet your work is based in Los Santos? Interesting. Why work three hours away unless you had a defining reason behind your actions? No family name? Nothing to boast about in terms of a reputation. That all has to be lies. Everyone has a family history, Ms. Reeves. You're not the exception."

Digging further into her photos. Someone of interest had finally caught Lester's attention. Leaning back into his wheelchair he observed the man in the photo. Tagged in the photo had Sasha as a beautiful companion. She smiled in the wind of the photo taken. Checking the names. Lester smiled. There had been both a Sasha Reeves and Lance Marston.

Lance Marston. Lester had kept that name in mind as he pulled up another search page to research about who he had been. There had been a recent obituary. Apparently Lance had been a formerly married man. About the same age as Michael. Died of cancer. Just enough information to satisfy that lead. After all, it wasn't Lester's business to ask about a recent dead man unless it was Michael.

Browsing through Sasha's Life Invader Profile. Something didn't exactly seem right the more conspiracies brought up when poking his head through her posts and interactions with those she had on her friends' list. Lester had froze himself on a curious photo with both Lance and Sasha posing for a peculiar photo on the peer with what appeared to be very expensive yachts. Lester had leaned in to get a closer look on the more stunning details.

There had been a name that Lester could actually feel cold shivers down his spine. One of the names on the background yachts had been: The Vercetti Gale.