#ccss

The asshole returned fire with his syrup bottle, the glass scattered on the floor in front of their table. The dinner was quiet for just that brief moment after it hit, that Aleks was able to reach down and casually dip his finger in the mess. He stuck his finger in his mouth and the look of absolute disgust on the man’s face was something he would remember for a long time. 

“Return fire!” He yelled with all the dramatics of a reigning king in the criminal underworld that was Los Santos and just to prove him right that’s exactly what his dying crew did.  

It wasn’t long before a full on fight had broken out on the floor. Food flying everywhere and maybe a knife or two were thrown about. Aleks swore he saw some poor bastard with a fork in his hand but that was before the mashed potato hit him. It was their last meeting as a crew before they all went separate ways, the second they stepped out of the basically rundown dinner they were likely never to see each other again. Where they went Aleks didn’t know just as he didn’t know where the last members had gone. 

Not even his partner who all but vanished in the night with nothing left for them to find. Just gone to live out a retirement that was probably long deserved but still left a broken feeling in his gut that didn’t quite feel real yet. Not that any of it did after, life now felt like he was on a stepping stone trying to cross an overflowing river and he couldn’t see the next rock. One part exhilarating one part terrifying. 

He knew some would stick together, a bond so reminiscent but so different than what Aleks had experienced that he didn’t want to step in and help. Let them find their own ways along the dangerous path created before them in Los Santos. But hell if he wasn’t going to watch them from afar just to see what chaos they would rain down on the broken city. 

Others like Trevor, who Aleks hadn’t seen in what felt like years, would be nothing but a background thought to think about when there was no one to talk to. Or maybe they would fade away, like Anna who Aleks wasn’t even sure was fucking alive. 

All Aleks knew was his own plans to get the fuck out. No he wasn’t retiring just taking some time to himself to start a solo run off the coast, just run and see where he ended up. The prospect was lonely and a part of him wanted to stay in the dinner with his friends never allowing the push to actually move him. 

Aleks was content to watch the mess he started. Who knew that so many gangs ate at the same fucking place without even knowing it?

“Aren’t you going to fucking help?” Alec yelled over the other screaming, only to be heard because his head was looming over the edge of the table. He was covered in orange juice that someone from Fakehaus threw at him. A small stream of blood from where the glass had hit his face.

“Fuck no, don’t you know it’s dangerous out there, man.” 

Alec just laughed at him before he rolled off the table and tackled Jakob to the ground. Not to save him but just because he could. It wasn’t long before Garrett joined there pile with some gravy he must have stolen from the very tired looking chief. They were the only ones he could see through the crowd, everyone else long gone. 

It isn’t until the red and blue lights start flashing in the window that everyone starts to panic. They’re a distance away but sure enough like always the cops were there to ruin everyone’s fun. Or Aleks’s at least. 

Aleks runs towards front door while everyone scatters towards the back. He’s fast enough to make it before the cops are even on their street, even if he slips and falls in spaghetti. He doesn’t recognize anyone as they run, he almost wishes he could but he lets that thought go before it can linger. 

He runs to the first car that isn’t his and breaks the window with the butt of his gun. The only trusty thing he’s had after years in their line of business. One that Aleks has only ever known, thrust into it as a meer child with nothing to his name in a town he barely remembers. 

He’s in the middle of trying to remember how to hotwire a car when the passenger side door is all but yanked open. Aleks immediately has his gun pointed at the person trying to slide onto the seat and is only meet with the deadpan look that only Brett can pull off. 

“What you think you can survive without me?” Brett asked, the amusement in his voice not hidden at all. He takes out a keyring from his jacket pocket, their escape dangling on his fingertip like the sweet temptation it was. “I think the fuck not.”

Aleks grins and for the first time in a long time it feels real. He reaches over the center to reach for the keys but instead kisses Brett with all the ferocity of people about to run from the law. He still takes the keys and with that they start a chase that will run long into the night and out into the Los Santos desert.