It was today. The day everything went to hell in North Yankton. 10 years today. And for the first time, both Trevor and Michael didn't have to get through it alone. Or at least that was what Trevor thought.
It had also been about a year since he had found out Michael was still alive. It was one of the most painful and happy moments of his life. Happy because his best friend wasn't dead. Painful because he only thought Michael was dead because Michael had-no. He wasn't going to let himself think about that now. He was past that. They were past that. It was rough but they had gotten there in the end.
And for this entire year, Trevor had gotten to know two new Michaels. The Michael who was a cynical retired man and the Michael he was now. Happier and way less secretive. This Michael was not the criminal he knew back in North Yankton but he was still Michael. They were friends again and hung out together again. They went golfing and did tennis matches and scuba diving and biking. Trevor was invited to birthday parties and anniversaries and Tracey's going away party for college. He got to do that stupid mind-numbing game with Michael and Jimmy and had even done some fucking yoga with Michael and Amanda. He was apart of Michael's life again. And he was so damn grateful Michael didn't bite it when the Triads had taken him because this would have never happened. Michael was getting better and doing something he loved. Their relationship had improved tremendously. The hard part of getting past their pride was over. They had apologized and they had meant it. They still argued about it and had the same conversation about it more than a hundred fucking times but they both knew when to back off or when they had gone too far.
Trevor never wore tank tops or went shirtless around Michael or when he knew he could be seeing Michael. He made the mistake of doing so a few months ago when he, Michael, Franklin, Lamar, and Chop had a little barbecue down at the beach to celebrate the death of that fucker Steve Haines for the tenth time in a row. He wasn't thinking and had taken off his shirt to go and race Franklin after the kid dared to suggest he could out swim Trevor. He knew he had screwed up when the smile vanished from Michael's face and he looked down at the sand. Trevor kicked himself mentally and instantly wanted to put the shirt back on but what good would it do. The damage had already been done. Michael a few minutes later started "feeling sick" and proceeded to take off back to his house to go and most likely sulk. Trevor had been meaning to get that tattoo replaced anyhow. He was thinking about a scroll design for the new one. Or perhaps a playing card. Or maybe something silly and profane that would make him laugh anytime he saw himself in the mirror. He was sure as fuck not getting anything for Brad though. That guy was a dick. Besides he spent almost a decade reminiscing over the past. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could have a new beginning. A new start.
Who would have known that three different worlds had to come together to make a genuine change in himself?
There was the hood world of gangster crime and violence. Franklin was from there and was like a surrogate son to Michael and Trevor and was no longer a violent criminal but a criminal of the interwebs with Lester the cyber creep. He was secretly glad for this. He didn't want to see the kid get his head blown off over some stupid block of drugs anyhow. Lamar was a whole nother story of being a bigger gangster and had become a surprisingly loyal friend. Even though Michael and Franklin had gotten the excitement of dodging bullets and going out on blood feuds he hadn't and banging with Lamar and occasionally a reluctant Franklin was a blast. Literally. And of course Denise. The annoying but enduring black feminist type. Lamar loved her to death and once again Trevor had something in common with Lamar in that regard. Franklin, of course, was less approving but then again he had picked up Michael's trait of judgment. Sometimes Trevor could have sworn Michael and Franklin swapped bodies at times with how Franklin got at times. He knew Franklin gravitated more towards Michael than him and he often found the two of them going off from the group to have existential conversations about words that had no meaning. Also, Mini Michael couldn't get over girls either. Tanishia was nice but nothing special and the doctor she married was not as much of a douchebag as Trevor had originally thought. He even offered all of them a free check-up to which Trevor actually went to. The last time he had seen a doctor was back in the Candian Air Fleet which hadn't gone so well but people were less judgey than they were back then. Of course, his lifestyle was killing him and for the first time, he somewhat cared. There was Lester who still was a little wary of him but eh who wasn't?
Then there was his world which he finally found himself being able to release the hold on more and more. Ron the crazy conspiracy theorist actually agreed to go to a garden party Amanda had hosted. The fucking hermit was becoming social again and Wade was around too and involved more at the Vanilla Unicorn than before and was really coming into himself. He also became like a stupider Franklin and Michael and him actually got along way better than Trevor would have thought. Oh and Wade and Jimmy were apparently friends now. Fucking Amanda banned strong drugs like Meth from entering the house though so Wade would have to make do. Cheif also became more involved in this circle of friends and had even shown a real talent for baking and tattoos. He had even given Michael a stupid looking tattoo of some Irish garbage. The hold Trevor had had on them for so long came undone somewhat and they didn't leave. Jesus fucking Christ he was becoming soft like Michael wasn't he? He didn't know whether to be revolted by this revelation or eh. Never mind.
Then there was Michael's world which was a lot lonelier than Trevor initially had thought. He had his family and that was really it. No wonder the man had lost his marbles when they had left him. Amanda was doing some stupid yoga classes for homeless people and had even put on a class for Trevor, Wade, Ron, and Cheif. Trevor originally had said no but when he found out Michael was going to be there he found himself not being able to resist missing that. Michael falling on his fat ass in his skin-tight shorts while attempting to do a half-moon pose was fantastic. Of course, tennis matches with the pair of them were always a blast. For all her flaws Amanda sure was a killer dirty talker. Quippy and sarcastic just like fucking Michael. Their relationship was better. Michael wasn't off sulking and actually spent time with Amanda. Amanda wasn't banging a pool guy. If Trevor wasn't a hardened criminal he would actually say they were kind of cute. He had also gotten closer with Jimmy and Tracey too. Tracey going off to college and Trevor would forever hold a grudge against himself for not suggesting they take out Lazlow. Her Fame or Shame audition was hilarious and a great tool to tease Michael with for the next for weeks. She was in college and had better have been behaving herself. Jimmy finally had a job at some burger place and Trevor had gotten the luxury of driving him to work a few times and getting to hear an earful about the new Righteous Slaughter game and how his love life was going. Jimmy was also a great tool to check up on Michael. Franklin wouldn't ever disclose personal details about whatever he and Michael talked about but Jimmy had no problem with it. As long as Trevor swore he won't use it to intentionally hurt Michael which Trevor didn't break. Physically at least.
So a crazed black feminist, an ex-girlfriend, a chill doctor, a gangster, a former gangster turned day trader, a computer creep, a conspiracy theorist, a terrible strip club bouncer, a meth cooker, a yoga hippy, a video gamer, a pop star wannabe, a retired bank robber, a sociopathic former serial killer and a horny dog. What a great group of friends they turned out to be. Sarcasm. Good Lord, he really had been spending too much time with Michael.
And now Michael pulled this shit. Not answering his phone, not answering Trevor's texts or emails, and had left his house. Amanda hadn't seen him since this morning apparently. Bullshit. Good thing there was always Jimmy. One call would sort this out.
"Oh hey Uncle T." Jimmy's cheerful voice came over the phone. He heard Wade swearing in the background. Oh fuck. Jimmy was turning him soft too. Soon Wade would just want to sit on his ass all day smoking pot and playing that fucking stupid game.
"Hey kiddo. Is Wade with you?" Trevor said attempting to control the rage bubbling in his voice. Don't get angry. Don't get angry.
"Yup! We just got through level 48. And that is the one with the radioactive zombies. Your business buddy is a natural at this!"
"Yeah, yeah. Not that it takes much mental energy to play." Trevor rolled his eyes. Stupid fucking kids.
"Says the one who couldn't get past the first wall and threw his controller across the room. You're almost as bad as my dad at rage quitting and we weren't even past the loading screen yet."
Trevor growled at the humiliating memory. Stupid fucking useless games. Michael laughed his ass off at him before he proceeded to lose his shit over getting killed by a tweleve-year-old providing Trevor with quite a show for that evening.
"Yeah speaking of your dad where is he kiddo?"
There was silence other than Wade jabbering to other adult babies on the other side of the screen.
"Hey, Jimmy? You there?"
"Uh yeah...I'm still here. I think the connection just went out or something." Jimmy's voice was shaking. Just like his father when he lied to Trevor's face as he dug through ice, snow, and dirt to get Michael to stop lying to him.
"Jimmy." Trevor hoped it was threatening enough.
"Look I don't know where my dad is. He always takes off on this day. Every year since we moved here to Los Santos." Of course, that fat fuck was off sulking and pushing everyone away. Trevor found it best to live life without regrets and to not look back on his past. He didn't want to be like Michael or Franklin or the others. Always feeling remorse over things that were already done. But one of the few things he regretted was allowing himself to believe Michael didn't give a shit about him or what had happened. There was a sadness inside of him. A deep hatred of himself. They shared that in common. It was complicated.
"I see. Where does he go?"
"I just told you, Uncle T., I don't know. It can't be where there are strippers or hookers though. Mom would have never let him go out if she thought that especially now they are getting along so well." Of course, Amanda was letting Michael go off and sulk off by himself for all these years. She still was. And to think Trevor had almost forgiven her for all the pain she caused his Michael. She didn't know how lucky she was to have him.
This conversation was going nowhere.
"Alright, thanks, Jim. If you see your dad give him a punch in the arm for me and tell him to call me. Not text. Not email. Not a message on fucking Lifeinvader or whatever that shit is. Call. Alright? You take care now." Trevor hung up before Jimmy could reply and dialed Michael's number.
No answer. Typical.
"Michael you stupid shit I know you're ignoring me and I know why. Fuck Mikey. First time you don't have to do this alone and you push away the only person who understands." Trevor licked his lips and swallow hard. "Please Michael. Please don't shut me out again. You need me. I need you. Please."
He would have called Lester at this point but thought better of it. Besides he won't tell Trevor where Michael was anyhow. They were doing so well. What the fuck had happened?
Whoever was calling Trevor during his shopping leisure time was going to get a punctured eardrum. The anger dissipated as soon as he saw it was Michael. It was unexpected. It had been two days since the whole "deathwish" thing had gone down and the three of them had taken down the Ballas, the Triads, Devin Weston and Steve Haines. He and Michael were friends. Trevor had said so. Michael didn't really have a choice in the matter. But it was complicated and the wounds still hadn't healed. Literally, as Trevor was reminded of the bullet he took in the shoulder as he made the mistake of raising the phone with his left arm.
"Hey T. It's me. What's going on? You up to anything? You want to hang out?"
Well, that was unexpected. A surprise but not an unwelcome one.
"You? Actually spend leisure time with me? Well okay." He attempted to sound more annoyed and inconvenienced than he actually was. Couldn't go giving Michael too big an ego now.
"Great. I'm on my way."
The whole thing felt weird. This felt too soon. It had only been two days. And Trevor had forced himself to give Michael some space. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Michael away again. He was aggressively bargaining with an underpaid sales clerk with piercings in weird places about a pair of overpriced boots when Michael's dot on Lifeinvader became close. Or more like threatening but $42.50 for a pair of boots that didn't even come with a second pair of waterproof laces? Come on!
Trevor saw the car pull up and saw Michael wearing that nice black jacket that shaped his shoulders nicely. "Let's go!"
Trevor slipped into the car with a "Michael man! Good to see you!" and he meant it. It really was good to see Michael and not after twisting his arm to come and hang out with Trevor. Trevor didn't realize how relieved he was to see that Michael was still up to hang out with him until he saw the car turn the corner a few moments ago and silently thanked whatever cosmic force had brought this into motion.
Michael didn't start driving and they sat in awkward silence for about two minutes. Trevor was going to say something but one look at Michael's tensed form somehow gave him the implication that he should let Michael speak first. Typical Towley. Being fucking dramatic about everything as usual. Trevor had threatened him with friendship, not disembowelment. The man needed to loosen up.
"Well T."
"Well what sugar tits?"
"Well we got there in the end I mean. I mean we've moved on." That was bold coming from Michael. And not really his choice to make.
"Have we?"
"I hope so. Haven't we?" There was genuine fear in Michael's voice. It was a fear Trevor was all too familiar with and had experienced it many times. However, this was the first time Michael was letting this kind of fear show so openly. The trust Michael was showing started melting the ice grip Trevor had on the past.
"I guess."
"I mean I fucked you over and that's why I want to apologize. And I also want to give you my share...of the money we boosted in this last score."
"You do?"
"Sure-I don't really need it. I just want you to be happy."
Alarm bells began going off in Trevor's head. Many people had done this to Trevor before where they would attempt to bribe him to get out of their lives the "nice way" as though Trevor couldn't see right through their bullshit. No way in hell was Michael getting rid of him that easily.
"Well, I don't really need it either. And I don't want it. It was never about the money Michael." Michael was far too smart to actually have believed it ever was.
Michael's eyes turned downwards in shame. He looked so vulnerable and sad. It felt weird seeing Michael without the front he usually put on and felt unnatural even to see his true self over his fake self. When they were friends back in North Yankton Trevor used to treasure the moments in which would get like this and let Trevor in on the pain going on behind that aloof and calm exterior.
"I know it wasn't...it was...I was in a tough situation. And I fucked up and I apologize." He sounded so scared. Not scared in the sense that he was afraid Trevor was going to attack him but that Trevor wasn't going to forgive him. Perhaps he wanted the same thing Trevor did and that was to have his best friend back without all this emotional baggage and awkwardness in the way.
"Okay. I accept your apology."
'Thank you."
And it felt as though a weight had been lifted off of both their shoulders. Michael began to drive after that and the two went to Singleton's and got some nice spicey BBQ wings with lots of alcohol. The conversations began to flow easier once the alcohol hit their systems.
As time went on and the two spent more and more time together and began rebuilding their relationship one brick at a time something bothersome came to Trevor's attention and he had to set it right. Michael wasn't the only one who acted like an asshole all those years ago.
"So...Mike...I should probably say..."
"What?" Michael sounded all angry and sarcastic while Trevor was trying to have a serious moment here. Typical.
"Well, maybe I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I mean let's be honest. Brad was a dick and things were getting out of control. You had the kids and you had already missed so much of their growing up. I could feel like I was losing you so I pushed you harder. I thought that-that was how to keep you in the game and I didn't want to lose you-I've said that already haven't I?"
So much for a well thought out apology. Michael didn't seem to mind though. He just looked at Trevor with an unguarded expression and listened to what he had to say.
"It was gonna blow up man. We all knew it was and I guess...I guess I'm happy you made it out alive and with enough money to make sure your kids became total complete nightmares."
"Hey!"
"I mean if you only taken...say a couple million they'd only be dicks. But with your savings, you were able to truly completely ruin them. Selfish, soft, without any skill. They got it all." Trevor laughed as he said this. "You've provided for their future."
"Haha. That's funny because it's true. It's also kind of sad." Michael said it sadly and Trevor felt Michael begin to the deeps of despair again. Persistent and aggressive feelings of guilt and remorse followed this man around more than his own shadow. Time to pull him out.
"Hey bro they're sweet. Kinda." Trevor bonked into Michael's shoulder playfully as he said this. Almost as a "come back to me" gesture.
"Brad was a dick wasn't he?"
"Oh yes, he was. Bless em."
In fact Brad was worse than a dick. He had actually attempted to kick Michael off the team and tried to get Trevor to help him. The FIB killing was merciful when Trevor thought about it.
They still talked about what happened of course. It was dark comedy gold so how could they not. But there were times when Trevor took it too far and forgot how rough and uncaring he could sound and ended up actually offending Michael. He never intended to do that.
They were far from sober and outside of Singleton's trying and failing comedically at hailing a cab. Trevor was leaning against Michael's arm to keep from falling over. Michael was wearing his black leather jacket and it was smooth against Trevor's cheek. Michael smelled nice. Like leather and cologne that was probably $80. So wasteful with money.
"Man am I drunk." The words of the obvious came out as if Trevor were underwater. He had gotten far drunker in the past but when he was with Michael in the state he felt safe.
"Oh man. I can feel my liver melting."
Trevor couldn't resist the bait. "Like your spine! Like your soul! Like your personality!"
"Oh give me a break will ya...why you such a dick to me?"
Trevor buried his face deeper into the fabric and chuckled. "We both know why."
Trevor almost landed face-first on the sidewalk at the rate Michael pulled away from him.
"Fine! Then don't get drunk with me!"
"Eh?"
"This isn't fun...getting drunk...then you call me a turd..." Great. Now Trevor had done it. Michael was in a mood and moving away from him. Fuck.
"I'm sorry man...I love you..." He gave Michael a sloppy hug to emphasize this. Plus it was cold out. "I love you...I love you...it's me I hate. I'm not a nice man...I need help...I hate myself."
"It's okay Trevor. You're not that bad. I guess." Michael rubbed Trevor's back and Trevor pulled him closer. "relax. Oh shit. I'm drunk."
That was close. Too close.
Eventually, they did get a cab and Trevor decided to trap Michael with him by acting far drunker than he was. He leaned against him and squeezed Michael's arm tightly while leaning against his shoulder and closing his eyes. This felt nice and Michael was the only one who would do this with him.
Well other than Floyd...but...yeah let's not talk about that...
Lifeinvader wasn't helping either. Michael had turned off his damn phone. Fine. If Michael wanted to be an asshole why should Trevor give a damn? That fucking fatass had put him through nothing but pain this last decade. One would have thought the least a man supposedly filled with so much remorse and guilt would have at least given Trevor this. God fucking damn it.
Of course, there was always Franklin or mini Michael who most likely knew where Michael was over his own biological family. There was a mixture of jealousy and anger rising in Trevor's chest as he thought about the possibility that Michael went to Franklin over him for this. Won't be the first time. The kid was a good kid but he wasn't Michael's best friend. He was more like a son the two of them shared. He smiled fondly at his first meeting with Franklin.
Getting dragged on a helicopter with a shady motherfucker because your best and only friend faked his death to get away from you was not an ideal situation especially when said helicopter was owned by the FIB. How in God's name did they even find where he lived? Sandy Shores was supposed to be off the grid and away from it all. Or at least that was what Ron had said. The two of them were going to have a serious conversation about fake news on Ron's radio show after Trevor got back from whatever the fuck was going on. He already had an O'Neil and Triad situation going on. The last thing he needed right now was a FIB problem too. And apparently the IAA was getting involved in this too. Fucking fantastic.
The helicopter was quite nice though and would make for a nice business exposure. Could come in handy later on and Trevor could just see it in his airstrip. He made sure to talk the entire way over to the shady warehouse they were meeting up at. Ron's horrendous talk show provided adequate trash-talking of the various FIB atrocities as well as comedy even millennials won't find funny. The FIB agent was not amused and had fewer reactions than a Queen's royal guard. It wasn't any fun at all and started to really piss Trevor off. He didn't know at what point the helicopter annoying one-sided conversation escalated to full out raging after the landing but if Trevor was good at one thing it was rolling with it.
After a while of getting up close and personal with the FIB agent's facial features, a kid on a bike pulled up. He looked to be about in his mid-twenties. And definitely did not look FIB agent material. Regardless scaring the piss out of the kid was way too much fun of an opportunity to pass up. No one was telling him anything. The kid was about as silent as the FIB agent.
"Whose that cagey motherfucker huh?" Trevor turned just in time to see Michael rolling up with a hilariously stressed face. "No its another cagey motherfucker alright. Not you." He gave the FIB agent a shove before Michael pulled him away. That was something no one had dared to do in nine years.
"Hey T! Enough with the faux political bullshit!"
The FIB agent walked away after that. The kid walked over to Michael and Trevor soon realized who this asshole was. His replacement. Not for long. Accidents happen.
"Franklin. Come on. You better take off. Really." Michael's voice was soft and father like and the way they were looking at each implied a deep trust.
Who the fuck did this kid think he was rolling up to their scene without any prompting? Didn't this fool know HE was Michael's best friend? And how had he not heard about this inappropriate friendship until now? Trevor moved closer to Michael and faced the kid with an expression that suggested he choose his next words carefully.
"Shit. I'm good. I ain't bailing." The kid was looking back and forth nervously between Trevor and Michael. Time to put an end to this shit.
"Whoa. What am I detecting some...uh...some son I never had bullshit here Mikey? Huh?" Step one of pissing off Michael was complete. Now to handle this friend stealer.
"Hey listen. If you want to replace some father figure you can do a lot better than this fat snake alright? This fucker would eat his own kids."
"Like I said, Franklin. Deranged."
"Yeah and BEST FRIEND," Trevor said narrowing his eyes at Michael. He moved closer to intimidate Michael.
It didn't work as Michael laughed the whole situation off and moved his arms up sarcastically. "Exactly. That's Trevor my best friend. That's Franklin the son I've always wanted."
Franklin moved closer to Michael before outstretching his hand to shake Trevor's. The kid had manners and Trevor always was a sucker for respect. Also, Michael had admitted Trevor was his best friend and didn't say this Franklin guy was. He could relax. He wasn't being replaced and Franklin didn't need to "accidentally" be pushed out of a helicopter.
"Alright, guys listen this is the shot. I'm gonna do all the heavy lifting on this job okay? Trevor all I need you to do is fly me to the target. Franklin you're going to cover me from across the street. We're gonna make these assholes happy and we're gonna walk away from this thing clean. Got it?"
Trevor gave Franklin a side smug look after finding out he would be getting Michael to himself. Franklin didn't seem to pick up on this and replied with "I got you." Trevor didn't like how cozy these two were getting.
Brad didn't know Michael was alive and if he did and just choose to let Trevor believe he wasn't in his letters to Trevor well Brad wasn't going to have to worry about his lack of proper body soap anymore. This meant Michael hadn't been getting letters which was a knife he had on Michael which he intended to twist in as much as possible. That knife had just become a double sided knife to remind this Franklin guy of the history he didn't share with Michael.
"Alright, and we do this and they help us spring Brad right?"
To say it worked perfectly would be an understatement as a quick pang of guilt flashed Michael's eyes before he suppressed it quickly. But Trevor saw it and knew it was there.
"Yeah, we'll talk about Brad later alright? I got to change."
Trevor sent another smug look. One that reminded Franklin that he was not needed for getting Brad out.
"You better grab a head start," Michael said to Franklin before turning to get his FIB clown suit from the chopper.
"Nice to meet you homie." Trevor made sure there was some threatening tones but somewhat friendly. Ron had pointed out the fact he freaked people out that could be potentially useful to him and the kid didn't seem all too bad.
"Yeah whatever" There was fear in that response. But more of a tired fear rather than a roaring one. Mission accomplished. If Trevor was honest without himself no one wanted to be here. Franklin seemed to only be here because Michael was and the same for him and even Michael seemed like he didn't want to be here.
There was only one benefit to this and that was watching Michael walkout in the FIB suit. Trevor made a mental note to take Michael parachuting some day. If he looked like a fat whale in this Trevor only wondered what a parachute on his back would look like.
"The government gimp at last!"
"Bite me."
Trevor chuckled silently. "Let's go."
He heard Michael slide in the seat behind him but not before catching a glimpse of Michael's ass. For a fatass, the man seemed to be able to make every clothing option work for his backside.
"Alright. Let's do this thing." Michael groaned behind him and Trevor passed him back a headset.
For so long Trevor had had drug-induced dreams about this. Okay, maybe not involving the FIB or the IAA and certainly not actively working for or against one or the other but having Michael in a helicopter with him getting up to trouble. The reason he was in a helicopter now was because of his training in the Candian Air Force not because Michael trusted him. But on the positive side, Michael trusted him enough to bring him on board so that was something.
"We need to go to the Agency headquarters downtown."
"Your new friends are a riot. No wonder you said sayonara to the old crew."
Michael had abandoned them for this shit. To go and live in a mansion he didn't even want, to live with a family he ignored and who all hated him and to be a puppet for the FIB all so he could be miserable. It didn't make any sense. Lots of things weren't making sense. Trevor had a pretty good idea of what was going on but he was going to let Michael tell him.
"Walking away ain't easy Trev but sometimes I guess you got to make compromises."
Like abandoning Trevor? It was hard. Accepting the fact that Michael didn't care about him as much as he had previously thought.
"What happened to dying with a gun in your hand?"
"Life happened. Annoying wife. Two kids. Remember them? You get tied down. You can't move anymore."
Yeah. How the fuck could he forget? He went soft. He was a way different Michael than the one Trevor had known back in North Yankton. Or perhaps Michael had always been this Michael. Another thing he locked Trevor out of.
"What about your ties to me? To Brad?"
He watched Michael's unguarded eyes come into view and they reacted with guilt to that last part. The knife was working.
"Those ties are why you got roped into this FIB suicide pact."
Fuck Michael. How dare he try and blame Trevor on this? Trevor saw right through this little act going on. He was trying to get Trevor to leave him. Well tough shit because Trevor wasn't going anywhere.
Later on, Trevor got to torture some poor bastard, and after that Michael did what he always has and proceeded to hide himself away like a dog with a broken leg would. Michael could have confided in Trevor about his family leaving but Trevor won't find that out until much later. And not even because he told him straight out but because they got into an argument about it. Oh and that Norton guy. He knew who he was. Trevor just acted dumb because he wanted Michael to tell him the truth. Did Michael really honestly believe Trevor was so stupid he won't know the face and name of the man who had taken credit for killing his best friend?
It was time to get to know who Michael was hanging out with. Michael was hiding more shit than Trevor had already pieced together and he had given him every opportunity to tell him the whole truth. But Michael insisted on making everything so fucking difficult and insisted on pushing him away. Again. Fucking asshole.
By the time Trevor had rolled up to Franklin's house, he had arrived just in time to see the poor kid getting roasted by his fine-looking aunt and his crazy friend Lamar. Trevor loved that crazy fucker right from the start. Franklin was a bit more a stiffy like Michael but Lamar was crazy, loyal, enduring and a moron. Good thing Trevor was there to watch over the two of them because otherwise they would have been swindled out of a good block of cocaine or worse been shot at and killed.
"Hey, homie. What's up?"
"Franklin. Hey. I was wondering if you knew where Michael was."
"Naw homie. I haven't seen him. Did you check up on his house?"
"Yeah. Asked Jimmy where he was too but he didn't know. His wife claimed not to know anything either but I am starting suspect she knows more than she was letting on."
There was a pause. "Hey man, you alright?"
"Yes? Why won't I be?"
"It's just...I don't know."
"What?"
"I just thought that you and Michael had worked things out. Look I ain't trying to pick sides or anything-"
"Frank. The fuck is this all about. Do you know where Michael is or could be?"
Suddenly there was a rustling noise and a "who the fuck is that? Is that crazy dude? Trevor?"
"Lamar. Shit man. Hands off the fucking phone. Honestly."
There was a ruffling noise and a "What's up Trevor my homie?"
Trevor couldn't help but crack a smile when he heard Lamar's voice. "Lamar. It's good to hear from you man."
"Aw shit you gettin me all emotional. What you need? You need some information out of Franklin. I'll get it for you. Dude likes to act all aloof and never likes to help a friend in need out."
"Hey. I saved your crazy ass countless times nigga." Franklin called off the phone.
"Aw watta under the bridge nigga. So T whatcha need man?"
"Michael's location."
"Aw shit homie you know I don't keep tabs on that creeper."
"I know. That's why I was asking Franklin. But he won't tell me anything because I guess he thinks I am going to hurt Michael or something."
Lamar gasped dramatically. "Franklin!"
"Don't Franklin me. You and I both know full well that dude is a crazy dude. All cannibalistic and shit."
"Yeah, but he'd never hurt Michael. When we were taken those cars down for Devin Weston and your ass was sleeping Trevor was all emotional man. Dude was on the brink of tears and-"
"LAMAR! I TOLD YOU NEVER TO TELL ANYONE THAT!"
"Chill homie. We were the only witnesses to your little pity party. Now, Franklin, you gonna tell Trevor where his bro is at? Or are you just gonna be an asshole as usual."
Trevor heard Franklin sigh deeply and Trevor couldn't help but smile in imagining what the two looked like arguing like that. They were almost as bad as him and Michael. "I don't really know man. Michael never tells me shit. If he's depressed and you want my opinion dude's probably out by the docks where his boat used to be. Probably in a blanket in the backseat of his car moping. That's how we met you know. He was in the car I was repoing under the sheet. Dude puts a gun to my fucking head and threatens to shoot me if I didn't do what he said. Fuck man. Trevor is goddamn terrifying but Michael can be just as scary when he puts his mind to it."
"Yeah, whatever. Just if you see Michael tell him to call me. Not text. Not email. Not a message on fucking Lifeinvader or whatever that shit is. Call." Trevor hung up the phone before things got more out of hand.
Franklin could be right of course. He laughed to himself remembering the twenty-minute rant Michael went on in his trailer during the Madrazo fiasco of his son Jimmy stealing his yacht and trying to sell it for drug and car money. He remembered how close he felt to Michael during that time and how Michael gave him the privilege of seeing his real self or at least part of his real self. Upon finding out what happened to Brad, Trevor realized in that moment how very little he knew Michael.
Michael lied to him and continued to lie to him over and over and over again. Trevor knew something was up with Brad. Michael for one was acting way too nonchalant about Brad and not correcting Trevor on any of the details like he usually did. He would look guilty for a brief second before keeping his cool together. When they argued about Trevor and Mrs. Madrazo's relationship because Michael was a selfish fool with no concept of love (at least in his eyes at that moment). He brought up Brad again and Michael didn't even try and defend himself. Trevor assumed that maybe they had a closer relationship than he previously thought and that if they busted him out then maybe Michael won't leave. He asked Lester about it but all Lestor wanted to do was get him to speak with Michael. It seemed everyone else knew what had happened before Trevor did. Trevor. Michael's best friend.
He had been so excited to tell him too. Trevor tried to keep the memory down but it bubbled to the surface.
It was fucking freezing in North Yankton. Trevor dug through the ice, snow and dirt with a shovel and an ice pick. His fingernails broke open and bleed onto the ice. His breath was coming out in hot waves leaving trails of smoke in the air. The truth was going to be revealed. How the fuck could Michael just sit there and treat Trevor like he was stupid? Did he really thing he could keep this hidden forever?
And Michael still continued to lie to him. Even tried to get him to come back and "get pizza and talk." Why? So he could listen to more of his fucking lies. Trevor knew it was bad when Ron a conspiracy talk show host was being more honest and upfront with Trevor than his own best friend was. Former best friend.
And then Michael acted all like this was some sort of business partnership rather than a friendship. He wanted to go make movies and leave Trevor in the dust just like he did last time. He looked him in the eye and said: "We're going to do this last big job and then we are going to dismember the partnership."
Trevor had spent years wanting Michael back and grieving and mourning. How many times had he killed because the pain was too much? How many times had he drunken himself to sleep and prayed to the cruel God of his existence to not wake back up again? Michael was alive this whole time. And he still continued to lie. Trevor was his best friend. Was. Past tense.
Trevor was almost to the bottom of the grave when he heard a familiar voice above him.
"Hey! You're wasting your time!"
Un-fucking believable.
"Is that why you flew out here? Huh? To tell me I'm wasting my time? " Trevor rolled his eyes and continued to pile snow and ice beside him. He'd decide what to do with Michael later. For now he needed to prove his suspicions because Michael sure as hell wasn't going to.
"Go ahead. Dig it up. I don't give a shit."
Trevor threw some dirt behind him and looked Michael in the face. He was trying so hard to keep it together but still, his remorseful expression was betraying him. The irony was not lost on Trevor.
"Yeah, that's what you look like. Somebody who doesn't give a shit."
Honestly. What good would the lies do him now? Trevor was here digging it up. It was over. The gig was up. Trevor knew. But Michael just kept lying and lying and lying. A hypocrite at heart. He always was. But never as bad as this.
"Ah, this is ridiculous."
Michael could tell the truth right now and Trevor might consider forgiveness. Please, Michael. Please.
"How long you gonna keep lying for Mikey? Huh? When's it gonna stop? What happens in the dark comes out in the light."
He was giving him a chance. Tell the truth, Michael. Come on man.
"Ah give it a rest Trevor. There's nothing there!"
The fuck was this? Was Michael always this bad a liar? Seriously. He was digging up the grave but yet Michael continued to lie to him. Michael was still the scared little boy hiding in the woods behind a trailer park lying to his father as he cruelly beat him within an inch of his life. Michael came to school with broken limbs and black eyes and bloody noses and would lie and lie and lie. And he never stopped because he never learned to trust anyone. Trevor had been through worse. And Trevor had trusted Michael but Michael had never trusted Trevor. And he still didn't.
The coffin was fully uncovered now. Michael was still there.
"This is it. Moment of truth." He held the shovel over the top of the coffin. He paused giving Michael a chance to confess or run. Michael said nothing. So Trevor shoved the shovel into the wood and broke it open. He got on his knees and pulled the wood up and over until the cross necklace Brad was wearing the day of that heist shined back at him under the lights of the graveyard. Trevor openly let out a sigh of anguish and stood and looked up half expecting Michael to have run. He didn't. He was just standing there with sadness in those deep blue eyes.
"As if I didn't know! Brad!"
Michael still didn't run away. Trevor had hurt and killed before in violent and horrendous ways for much much worse but yet Michael actually thought he could reason with Trevor. "Look. We do what we got to do to survive. This thing. It didn't work out the way it was supposed to."
Finally. Something that resembled a half fucking truth.
"Oh? And how was that! Huh? With Brad in the can and me in the ground? Or or or both of us in the coffin!" Trevor was shaking now and it felt as though spikes were growing in his throat. How could Michael have done this to him? He thought the world of Michael and Michael betrayed him.
"Brad got shot! You saw it! He didn't make it! I got shot and I did! That's-that's it!"
But that wasn't it? Even now with the truth uncovered Michael still couldn't tell the truth. Fucking Michael. Trevor started crawling out of the hole in the ground. Trevor didn't know what was more interesting. The fact Michael continued to lie to his face or the fact that Michael hadn't even made an effort to run away. Any sane man who saw a monster like Trevor crawling out of a grave as pissed as he was would have run. But for as clever as Michael could be he was so stupid at the same time.
"I think the only thing that didn't go as planned was me showing up on your doorstep ten years later. MIKEY." He pointed a finger at the man standing opposite of him. "I mourned you."
Michael would never know the half of it. But instead of lying and instead of hiding his emotions Michael was shaking and actually started to tear up.
"And I missed you! But I got a fucking family Trevor. We were all going to die! He did die!"
"You reptilian motherfucker!" Trevor pulled out his pistol just as Michael did the same.
"I didn't want it to come to this!"
Lies. More and more lies. Even when a gun pointed in his face the lies just seemed to come naturally to him.
"Yes you did! You just don't have the fucking balls to do it! But I do!" It was true. He did. He had something Michael didn't. A stomach.
"I got more to lose than you do!"
Yeah. That's why he sold everyone out.
"Never a truer word has been spoken brother!" Trevor was crying now. Breathing in and out. "Now pull the fucking trigger!"
Nothing happened. Trevor was giving him a chance to take the shot but he wasn't taking it.
"You ain't got the guts," Trevor said it softly with a small self-deprecating chuckle. Michael was soft as ever.
"Take the fucking shot!" Michael yelled at him. Trevor moved his index finger to the trigger and turned his eyes away. He had given Michael a chance to kill him. He had given a chance to run. He had given him a chance to tell the truth. Many times over. But Michael was here. He had seen many men die by his hands but this was his best friend and he didn't have the heart to watch the bullet go through that face.
But his finger didn't move. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't do it. He tried to block out Michael's labored breathes of fear but couldn't do that either.
Just then a man ran up the stairs and pointed a gun at Trevor. A FIB agent most likely that Michael had brought up here with him. "Who is that?" Michael lowered his gun to turn to face the man and Trevor took the opportunity to shoot Michael in the leg. The gun jammed. "FUCK!" He threw it at Michael's head before taking off running. Michael started shooting at him and missing as Trevor threw himself around the gate and towards the getaway car. The significance of those missed shots was that he could have easily shot Trevor. Trevor knew this. Michael still cared about him. Unfortunately for Michael, the opposite was no longer true.
"Trevor Phillips! Mr. Cheng has requested a word!"
They weren't FIB agents. They were the Triads. Much worse for Michael.
Trevor sabotaged the engine of Michael's car so he couldn't getaway. Time to face the music, Mikey.
Of course, he had forgotten to tell himself that he would be leaving Michael to die.
Unsurprisingly Franklin had turned out to right about where Michael was. Well, at least his car was. Trevor sighed. The sun had gone done a long time ago. So much for a day together. At least this wild goose chase of Michael being a fucking drama queen gave Trevor something to do other than drink himself to sleep.
Trevor walked up to the black car parked near the pier and observed how the stars were brighter out here than in the main part of Los Santos. The vexing air pollution probably had something to do with that. If Trevor never had to see the silicone city again it would be too soon.
The windows were rolled down just a tint and a passerby would have easily overlooked this fact. The windows were extremely tinted making it harder to see inside especially at night. Trevor peered in to see the car was empty and almost punched the passenger window open. Fucking Michael. Asshole.
If his car was here he couldn't have traveled too far and Trevor began making his way back to the docks. He turned to see Michael sitting on one of the benches and angry filled quickly in his chest.
"There you are you cunt! Who the fuck do you think you are ignoring my calls when you damn know what day it is!"
Michael didn't answer. He was slouched over with a bottle of Pissweisuer in his hand. Trevor walked closer and saw Michael was shivering. Badly. He was also breathing heavily and his heaving filled the dull silence of the night save for the small waves crashing against the makeshift pier.
"Hey, Mikey. You alight cowboy?"
No answer. Trevor got down on his knees and gently rolled Michael's shoulders back to get a better look at his face. Trevor's arms practically vibrated Michael was shaking so badly. In the light of the cheap street lamp above them, Trevor saw flushed blue cheeks and clammy skin. Michael's eyes were open but barely and didn't seem to be focused on anything in particular.
The fucker was almost blackout drunk. Or close to it anyways. He most likely had alcohol poisoning and needed to be watched.
"Come on Mikey." Trevor gently snaked his arms through Michael's armpits and hoisted him up into a standing position. "I'm not gonna let you fall but you need to try and stand on your own feet." He shifted over to the left side of Michael's body and felt the glass bottle Michael was holding drop onto the pavement beneath them. By some miracle, it didn't break. He heard Michael try to speak but it came out as muted mumblings. He then pulled Michael's legs up in his arms until Michael was in a cradle position against him.
"Jesus fucking Christ Mikey. What have you been eating?" Trevor groaned to himself as he moved Michael back to his jeep and placed him in the passenger seat. He then drove them to Bayview Lodge and on the way there Trevor heard low frog-like noises and it took him a second to realize it Michael was vomiting all over himself and the jeep floor. Trevor reached over and squeezed Michael's shoulder in what he hoped was comforting.
Michael made a noise that resembled the words "sorry' and "T".
"It's alright M. Just relax. We're almost there."
He pulled up into a parking space and told Michael he would be right back. He quickly checked out a motel room from a guy who looked far to old to be of able-bodied working age. He then headed back to the jeep and moved the car closer to their designated room. He then unlocked the door and went to lift Michael up until Michael pushed his hand away and attempted to slide out of the seat on his own. This was clearly a mistake and Trevor reached out to catch him before his wobbly knees bucked on the pavement. Michael continued to weakly push Trevor's shoulders as Trevor dragged his drunken body into the room getting leftover vomit and salvia on him in the process. He then sat Michael in a chair near the rusting air conditioning.
The room was of decent size with only one bed with some of the ugliest sheets Trevor had ever seen. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to put puke green palm trees with a baby blue background on a shitty motel comforter anyways? Michael's head slouched over but he at least seemed to be sitting alright.
Trevor first removed Michael's shoes and socks and then pulled Michael's vomit-covered shirt off and revealed his sweaty wife-beater. He then painfully removed his pants down to his blue striped boxer. Michael groaned in protest the entire time and Trevor pulled off his own puke-covered shirt before heading to the bathroom to get a tissue to get the vomit off of his skin and returned to do likewise to Michael.
Michael attmepted to turn his face away as Trevor tried to wipe the bile off.
"Stop it, Michael! Fuck!" Trevor mumbled as he wiped the last of the vomit off Michael's chin and tossed the tissue into a bin near the television set.
"Alright tough guy. Bedtime." He picked Michael up or attempted to as Michael was still trying to push him away even as he was carrying him over to the bed. Trevor laid him on top of the comforter on his side so that way if he vomited he won't fucking choke and then decided it would be best to put the trash can on the side beneath Michael in case he decided to vomit he could at least have the common decency to do it in the fucking trash.
Trevor kicked off his boots and left them lazily on the space under an oddly placed painting of a bear mercilessly attacking a salmon who had dared to spring for the icy abyss of the lake holding it captive kind of like a fucking sign of his fucking life. Trevor shook his head and ripped the tv remote off the dresser beside him and flicked on the television.
There wasn't anything good on. Mostly just shows about garbage like cops, bitchy women getting breast implants and poor bastards who wasted all their money to go watch some plastic talk show host tell the same stale joke every four seconds. Michael was still trembling but it had been greatly reduced to when Trevor had first found him. Michael was still sweating like crazy though.
He bumped his elbow into Michael's back and asked "Hey? Wanna try some water? Might do you some good to get some actual liquids into your system."
Michael just growled at him and adjusted himself in a more comfortable position. Trevor rolled his eyes and turned to face the tv which was currently displaying a circus show of two women getting into a heated argument over a guy who in Trevor's opinion wasn't even that handsome. Then again he was a meth head who was balding with tattoos that went out of style decades ago so he couldn't judge too much.
"You know if you're going to act like an asshole maybe you shouldn't be getting so drunk you can hardly stand on your own two feet and wait around sitting on a fucking bench waiting for a fucking hobo fucked on crack to come and stab you in the dead of the night where no one can hear you scream. I took real good care of you like a real friend unlike you you miserable fat fuck who tried to sell me out to the fucking feds so you could high tail your high maintenance family to spoil them in the cursed capitalistic hills of Los Santos."
From the lump on the side of the bed came a weak "fuck you" and Trevor chuckled to himself. At least Michael was somewhat conscious now. Trevor nudged Michael's ass with his sock-covered foot and heard Michael growl at him. He chuckled in response and went back to channel surfing.
Eventually, Michael had fallen asleep and Trevor took this as an opportunity to take a wet washcloth over Michael's flushed skin to cool him down a bit. He then fell asleep himself beside the snoozing Michael.
It had been three hours (or was it five now) since Trevor's dad had told him to sit here and wait. He was on a bench in the middle of a shopping mall in Canada kicking his feet around as though there was a pinball in between his toes. He was wearing his hiking boots his dad had given him. The only gift he had ever given him and with strings attached of course. The reminded him of the boots those Royal Canadian Air Force guys had worn when they came to his school to talk about the great P's of Canada. Planes, Patriotism, and Partnership. Trevor actually won't mind being in something like that. Flying looked fun.
A mom scoffed at him and pulled her three-year-old closer while mumbling "punk-ass kid" under her breathe. Trevor just sighed and traced the light leaking through the glass ceiling of the shopping center onto the floor. He must have been quite a sight. Messy matted brown hair running down at shoulder length, a fresh shiner from dear old dad on his right eye, scratch marks on the left side if his face from that cat he gutted yesterday, a sweaty mustard yellow jacket two sizes too big and a pair of jeans that hadn't been washed in five months.