James wakes up alone.
Or, at least he thinks he's alone. He can't really see at first; the world's a mess of blurry colors, almost overwhelming. He blinks a few times, trying to focus. The first thing he realizes is that the room is an off white color, a stark difference from the dark warehouse he used to be in.
Oh, the warehouse. Oh yeah, he had gotten tortured. Man, he must be really high off pain meds, because he can't really feel anything except a dull pain kinda everywhere. But of course, as soon as he thinks that, the pain starts blossoming, especially in his ribs and arms. Before he can stop it, he lets out a groan of pain, which only causes him to hurt more.
Beside him, he sees movement. Startled, James quickly glances to his left. There's a man in a metal chair, slumped lazily against it. As he squints, he realizes that's the guy's sleeping, and pretty soundly at that. And judging by the blonde hair and plethora of colorful tattoos on his arms, he can only assume it's Aleks. James doesn't really know if he wants to wake him. Sure, he might've saved his life, but this could easily be a "out of the frying pan, into the fire," situation. He had absolutely no idea where he was, and he was pretty much at the mercy of Aleks. He was definitely too weak to go anywhere, and where would he go anyway? The best course of action would be to wait for Brett to come save him, however unappealing that sounded.
Turning back to stare at the ceiling, he frowns. Why did Aleks save him? Aleks might've been the type of person who did things on a whim, but he doubted the rest of his crew would follow him blindly. So he must've convinced everyone that there could be something they could gain out of this. And the only thing that could come to mind was for him to be used as a bargaining chip.
James sighs, ignoring the stinging pain that comes from his chest because of it. An idea prickles into his head. There was no way he could leave in his current condition. But maybe he could prepare for a possible escape.
He glances around the room. It's actually pretty barren, aside from the IV next to him and a couple of chairs with pillows by Aleks. The only source of light comes from the light bulbs above him; there aren't any windows. There looks to be only one door, and that's adjacent to Aleks, but it didn't appear to have any sort of fancy locking system. Maybe all he needed was a key.
James glances at Aleks. He would definitely have a key. There's no way he wouldn't. And now would be the best time to get it, while he was asleep and unprepared.
He flexes his arms, testing his strength. And immediately winces. Oh yeah, he got stabbed there. But he's still pretty confident that he can at least sit up, so shakily, he tries to prop himself up.
Keyword: tries.
He gets up about halfway before he starts rapidly losing strength in his arm. The pain starts to really become unbearable as well and, with a grunt, James lets himself fall back into the bed.
"Oh shit, you're awake!" Aleks practically jumps out of his chair, eyes wide and unfocused. He stumbles over to where James is half-laying, half-propped up, but before he can touch him, James scoots away, inadvertently loosing his balance. He lets out a curse as his back meets the bed, causing pain to blossom in his chest again.
Aleks frowns, and goes to move towards him again. James notes that he's approaching more warily this time. "I'm just trying to help you sit up, asshole."
"I can do it myself," James snaps, glaring at him. Aleks holds his hands up in surrender, and takes a step away. Inhaling sharply, James pushes himself upwards, arms shaking. It hurts, it hurts a fuckton, but he just bites the inside of his cheek instead of crying out. Eventually, he manages to lean against the wall behind him. Aleks grabs a pillow and places it behind his back, ignoring James protests.
"Dude, chill! I'm literally just trying to help you!" Aleks insists, bending down to grab another pillow from a nearby chair.
"I don't want your fucking help!" James shouts back, ripping the pillow from Aleks's hands and throwing it back at him. The throw itself is sloppy and Aleks ducks and avoid it easily. "Just fuck off!"
"I'm not going to hurt you, stop being an asshole!" Aleks bends down again to pick up the fallen pillow, wincing as he does so. James notices and frowns. Well that was new. But Aleks tosses him the pillow and instinctively, James catches it. Seeing that he now has a perfectly good pillow in his hands and what a shame it would be to just waste it, he places it behind his back.
"I don't believe that for a second," James replied, "Why the fuck am I here then?"
"Because I needed to talk to you!" Aleks voice cracks, and James barks out a laugh.
"So you decide the best time to do that is mid-torture session?" He asks, incredulously.
Aleks's eyebrows furrow together in anger. "I could've just fucking left you there, you know!"
"Why didn't you?" James snaps back, "That seems to be what you're good at!"
Aleks straightens as if he'd been shocked, and James can't find it in himself to feel bad. It's the truth, after all. There's absolutely no way Aleks just saved him out of the kindness off his heart, especially not after he left without a single word.
Aleks's eyes are pleading as speaks. "Please," he begs, "Just let me explain."
But James's chest is heaving, and he shakes his head before Aleks can even finish talking. "No," he says, voice smooth, "You had months to explain. You could've said something. God, I thought-" he breaks off, turning away from Aleks. There are tears prickling up in his eyes, but James blinks them away angrily. He's not fucking crying here, in front of Aleks.
"Please," there's raw desperation in Aleks's voice as he repeats himself. "Please, just hear me out."
James inhales deeply and shuts his eyes. He doesn't want to listen, he doesn't want to hear all the excuses Aleks has probably spent months rehearsing. But…
"Why?" The question spills out before James can stop it. The stares at Aleks, who's now slumped in his chair. He looks… tired. But James isn't in the mood to care, he's been thinking about these questions for months, and goddamn it, he's going to get some answers. "Why did you just leave?" Despite his many emotions swirling in head, his voice comes out clearly.
"Did you want me to stay?" Aleks meets his gaze, sitting up straighter. James frowns. He knows Aleks. Aleks is arrogant. Aleks is always wanting control. Aleks is floating from one idea to the other, constantly in motion. And as he's staring at him, he realizes he actually doesn't know Aleks at all. Because the old Aleks would've broken his gaze by now. He wouldn't keep his gaze, staring evenly back at him.
And it's because of that James allows himself to answer truthfully. "Yes," he whispers, all his anger coming out in that one word.
It's only then that Aleks looks away. James keeps staring at him for a beat longer, before sitting back with a sigh. He opens his mouth before closing it again, raking a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," he says, and something snaps inside James.
"No, you don't get to fucking say that," he retorts angrily. "You and Sly left without a fucking word! And you promised you'd get in touch! You promised-" he chokes on the word, and blames it on his injuries. It can't be because of anything else.
"I left because Sly asked me to!" Aleks yells back, rising to his feet. "God… he got in some serious shit with the Vespucci, his uncle was in it or some shit I dunno, and they were looking for him. They were looking for his family, James," he says it so seriously, and despite his intentions not to, he can't help but understand. If his someone was hunting his mom, he'd drop everything to help her.
But he's still selfish, and hardens his gaze. "You could've told me! I would've helped! You didn't have to do all this shit on your own!"
"I couldn't be sure! And anyway," he lowers his voices again, "We needed to move fast. Sly's family was halfway across the country. The more people we told, the more slower we'd move."
James barks out a laugh. "And you had just enough time to fuck me before you left." Aleks flinches, but James continued, anger palpable in each word. "You fucking promised me you'd say something, and you didn't. I fucking trusted you, Aleksandr."
"I know! I know you did!" Aleks runs a hand through his hair, "I didn't mean to break that promise. I was gonna call you once everything blew over. I didn't want anyone in the crew to know what was happening."
James opens his mouth to make a counterpoint, but then closes it. Honestly… that's a good point, especially considering the time he and Sly left. Tension amongst the whole crew had been very high, and only got higher with Aleks and Sly's sudden disappearance. If word had gotten out they were leaving, there would probably have been pretty severe consequences.
Aleks takes a breath before continuing, "We got to Sly's family as soon as we could. And we got to them before the Vespucci did. But…" he pauses and winces, as if the memory harms him, "The safest thing to do was to make them all disappear. So we had to fake their deaths. Including Sly's."
James frowns. It's a logical step, but that would involve a lot of planning in getting new identities. And Sly would never be able to get back into the criminal lifestyle while the Vespucci were still a thing. But he sensed there was more to the story, to he gestured for Aleks to continue.
"Sly, uh, he had a contact," Aleks says after a beat, not making eye contact with James, "Promised to get new identities and shit for the whole family. All we had to do was run a few errands."
"But…?" James prompted, seeing Aleks trail off.
Aleks blinks, as if remembering where he was. Letting out a breath and regaining a bit of his composure, he continues, somberly, "It was a trap. Apparently he had connections with the Vespucci. We walked into the warehouse he told us to be at and they brought the whole fucking building down."
Abruptly, he stands up, startling James. He frowns, wondering what exactly Aleks is playing at. But without saying a word, Aleks swiftly takes off his shirt. James is about to protest loudly, but the words die in his throat as soon as Aleks turns around.
Scars. There's so many of them all over Aleks's back and sides. They vary in length and size, but they all look fairly new. The smaller ones are whiter, starting to show some signs of fading away, but for the most part, they all look red and loud, especially against his pale skin. Aleks shivers- from the cold or James eyes on him? he can't tell- and put his shirt back on quietly.
When he turns around, his eyes are glazed a bit. Again, he doesn't look James in the eye. "I woke up in the hospital a couple days later, but it took me months to recover. Some anonymous person paid for my bill in full," he says, and James senses there's a story there, but there's a more pressing question on his mind.
"What happened to Sly?" James asks, worried about the answer he'll receive. He liked Sly- the man's energy was infectious and definitely needed in their line of work.
"He's alive," Aleks says slowly, frowning as if in deep thought, "But I've got no idea where he is. A relative of his visited me in the hospital and told me he and his family were in a safe place, and that the Vespucci thinks we're both dead. But I haven't seen him since."
James nods, thinking on it all. That… certainly wasn't what he was expecting. If Aleks hadn't shown him the scars, he might not have believed him, honestly. Well, that wasn't true. Even if Aleks looked and acted differently, there were still parts of him James understood. And he understood that the pain lingering in his eyes was real. He was hurting, both from the bomb and the loss of Sly.
"I'm sorry," Aleks's voice startles him, and he glances over he is. He's sitting now, hunched forwards with his hands clasped. "When… when I woke up, I had no idea what happened to Sly. I didn't know for days. So… I'm sorry. For, like, putting you through the same thing, you know?"
He wipes his mouth with his hand, a small tic James remembers seeing whenever Aleks's is nervous. Abruptly, he's transported back to a few months prior, when the both of them had been in James's dinky apartment. It had been the morning after, and Aleks had woken up before him, surprisingly. He had woken up as soon as Aleks left, too used to the warmth he had provided. The water was running, and James let the sound lull him into a state of semiconscious.
He remembers that he wakes up fully once the water stops Aleks renters the room, hair still damp from his shower. God, he remembers how panicky and nervous he was. How he had held James close the night before. Aleks hadn't ever been tender, but that last night had been the softest he's ever been. He remembers how genuinely sad he had been when he had left.
James had gotten feelings for Aleks somehow, sometime between the late night sex and early morning heist set-ups. And he was content to go to the grave with those feelings, if only to avoid awkwardness. But… seeing Aleks leave so abruptly had made him wonder if he should confess, his in case he never saw him again.
"I was gonna call you." Aleks's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. "But I lost my phone and all my contacts in the explosion. As soon as I got out I tried to track you down. Then I saw our the crew disbanded." He looks at him and frowns. "What happened?"
James sighs, leaning back against the pillows. "Things just went to shit after you and Sly left. Nobody fucking trusted each other. People would start leaving the second the saw a better deal."
"I'm sorry," Aleks apologizes again, but James waves it off.
"It's not your fault. It would've happened either way. I got Brett to help me start up our own little crew, and took Joe with me before I left."
"So that's what Fake Chop is? It's you and Brett?" Aleks asks, curiosity dripping from his voice.
James is a bit surprised that Aleks knows of his crew. They weren't terribly large, and hadn't made too many big statements, but then he suddenly remembers that Aleks is apart of a crew here. "Yeah," he confirms, before quickly switching topics, "But what about you? How'd you get into… whatever this crew is?"
"I founded this," Aleks explains, "Found a bunch of people that wanted the Vespucci gone as much as I did. And Aron," he adds, and James cracks a small smile. He's glad Aron's doing alright. He hadn't heard from him since he left the crew. Though, to be fair, he hadn't heard from anyone since he left.
There's a bit of a commotion outside, and the smile fades from James's face. Aleks rises up, and spares a glance at James before opening the door. "Uhh, wait here," he says, before leaving.
James scoffs. "Not like I could fucking go anywhere!" He mutters to the empty room. But, strangely, he's not mad. He thought he would be, considering everything that's happened, but if anything, he's feeling confused. He still got no idea what the fuck is going on, but, for some stupid reason, he finds himself trusting Aleks. Even if the scars were fake, and the story was all fabricated, the pain in Aleks's eyes was real.
Maybe that's why he feels oddly calm right now. He's alone in a unfamiliar room, pretty much defenseless and at the mercy of Aleks, but he's not afraid. Maybe it's because he knows that Aleks won't hurt him. Or maybe it's just the painkillers talking.
The commotion outside the door grows louder, and James strains to hear what's being said. No gunshots, which is always good, but there's a whole lot of yelling. He doesn't recognize one of the voices, but he hears Aleks shouting, trying to calm another voice down. And that other voice is… Brett?
Holy shit, he fucking forgot all about Brett. If he wasn't already in pain, he would've hit himself. How the fuck did he forget that his boyfriend would be literally burning down the whole city trying to find him?
The door slams open, and suddenly he's faced with a very angry and worried looking Brett. His gaze is frantic before it settles on James, and he rushes to him. Brett gives him a once over before cupping his face and placing a kiss to his forehead. James can't help but wince at the roughness of it, but the feeling of relief pushes away any annoyance he would normally have. It just feels good to know that Brett's here with him again, and that he hadn't done anything too drastic.
His gaze is torn away from Brett once he sees Aleks enter the room again. Brett notices too, and straightens up. Aleks matches the glare Brett's giving him as he speaks, tersely, "I told you I wasn't going to hurt him."
"Yeah? Don't know about you, but he doesn't really look the epitome of perfect fucking health," Brett's voice is low, dangerous. His back is to him, so he can't really see his face, but James knows just by his body language that Brett's taut, a spring ready to be released.
But Aleks isn't backing down. "Oh, I'm sorry. Next time I'll just leave him in that torture chamber."
"There won't be a next time," Brett growls.
"Alright, hold up," James interrupts. "What the fuck is going on?"
They both stare at him. James feels kind of like an idiot. But he honestly isn't following. He's really surprised the two of them haven't already shot each other- neither one of them are really the type to ask questions.
Brett breaks the silence. "I was out looking for you when I get a text from this guy," he nods in Aleks's direction, "Saying that he had saved you from some random gang-"
"The Reds," Aleks interrupts, "They're a gang trying to get on the Vespucci's good side."
"The Reds," Brett corrects himself mockingly, rolling his eyes, "Saying he miraculously saved you from the clutches of the evil Reds, and that you'd be here."
"Okay, I'm here! What the fuck's your point?" James asks, exasperated. He's too fucking tired for this shit.
"I wanted you both here for a deal," Aleks says, and instantly, James's eyes narrow. He should've known- that in the end, he'd just be used as a bargaining chip. He clenches his fists. Man, and he had just started trusting Aleks too.
"Not like that," Aleks quickly says, catching James's eyes.
"Then what do you mean, exactly?" Brett sounds real annoyed. James notices that he's not carrying any visible guns on him. Must've been a stipulation Aleks had insisted on. Though, that definitely didn't mean Brett would be useless in a fight. On the contrary, Brett was hands-down the best hand-to-hand fighter he'd ever seen.
Aleks looks at them both evenly. "I'm gonna let James go, no matter what."
Brett scoffs, but Aleks continues, "I just wanted both of you here to hear this. I want both of our crews to be allies."
For a second, nobody speaks. Brett looks down at James, eyes full of disbelief. But James can't explain anything either. He was honestly expecting something… more.
Aleks senses their confusion, and begins to explain himself more. "Look, just think about it- we both want the Vespucci dead, right? But there's a lot of ground that we've got to cover, something neither of us have the manpower for."
"We've got plenty of guys," Brett says confidently.
But Aleks doesn't fall for his bluff. "No, you don't. Or else you'd use them the first time you attacked the Vespucci. You would've been screwed if my crew hadn't distracted them."
"Hang on, how did you know we'd be attacking the Vespucci?" James interrupts, furrowing his brow.
"I didn't, at first," Aleks admits, "But everyone takes notices when a small group starts taking on a bigger one. And I was already keeping tabs on the Vespucci. When I saw you start provoking them, I figured your next course of action would be attacking one of their bases."
"And it was just a lucky guess that we'd attack the warehouse we did, huh?" Brett doesn't look convinced, and James isn't really either.
"I mean, no offense, but you guys aren't the hardest people to track," Aleks says, which is fair- Lindsey's great, but she couldn't work a computer as well as she could haggle with prices for ammo. "And anyways, like I was saying, we want the Vespucci dead. And we could get a lot more down if we teamed up and took them down."
Brett exhales slowly, and crosses his arms. "You know, I'd be a lot more receptive to this idea, if it wasn't for the fact you're using James as a bargaining chip."
"I'm really not!" Aleks insists. "James is going to be let go, whatever your decision is. You have my word!" He adds on quickly, seeing Brett opening his mouth. Aleks looks… almost desperate to be believed in, judging by the wide eyes and inability to know what to do with his hands. "It's just… we were just looking into the Reds anyway… and fuck, I couldn't just leave you there," he says, looking at James directly.
James opens his mouth- to say what? to say he doesn't believe him?- before closing it. Because Aleks sounds genuine. Because his mannerisms are exactly the same as they had been months ago, when he had left. And despite everything that's come between them, James still fucking trusts him.
"Can Brett and I have a moment alone?" He asks, ignoring how sharply Brett turns to face him. Aleks nods, glancing once more between the two of them before leaving.
James expects a large barrage of questions to come out the moment Brett fully faces him. But, to his surprise, he just asks, "Are you doing okay?"
James blinks. "As fucking good as I can be, considering the situation. What about you?"
"Fine," Brett responds, and James glances at his chest. He can't see any of his bandages underneath his jacket, but he knows they're there. He feels a stab of pain, for cutting Brett's recovery time short.
He glances away, sighing. "I don't know what to do," he admits.
"Do you think he'll let you go?" Brett asks.
James doesn't even miss a beat. "Yes," he says, surprising himself with his certainty. For some stupid, stupid reason… he trusts Aleks. He trusts those scars are true, he trusts his story is legit, he trusts that the pain he saw in his eyes is real.
Brett looks at him for half a beat more. Then, he nods slowly. "Okay," he says simply. There's a lot going on behind that one word, stuff that James can't quite understand. But before he can ask him about it, Brett continues, "So, what are we going to do? Are we going to team up with him or not?"
James sighs. Because while he does trusts that Aleks will keep to his word, he doesn't know if he trusts him completely. And even if his story is a hundred percent true, that doesn't mean that Aleks is the same person that James had accidentally fallen in love with all those months ago. He's changed- honestly, the both of them have. Aleks has a new crew now, and James does too. And Fake Chop means the world to him. It's the reason he's hesitating, honestly.
Because objectively, allying themselves with Aleks is the smart thing to do. They need more people on their side, more people willing to fight with them instead of being indifferent, or worse, actively against them. It would provide both crews with stability and manpower. And god, did they need that.
But it was one thing for James to trust Aleks, and it was a completely different thing to trust him with the crew. Fake Chop was everything to him. For once in his life, he felt completely in control. He had the freedom to actually plan heists, to play around with ideas, to be in charge. And he liked everyone in the crew. These were people he and Brett handpicked out, amazing at what they did. And James liked them all personally, too. He'd never forgive himself if he let them died needlessly.
He looks over to Brett. James knows he doesn't trust Aleks, and then remembers that doesn't have any reason to. He didn't hear Aleks's story. But maybe that's a good thing. It would be good to hear the opinion of someone who was skeptical. "What do you think I should do?"
For a while, Brett doesn't respond. James feels oddly nervous, waiting for his response. He trusts Brett more than anyone, and respects his viewpoints. So far, none of his plans had ever steered him wrong.
Eventually, he sighs. "Well, you know him better than I do, so I'll let you make the call."
Well, that wasn't the answer he'd been expecting. James blinks in surprise as he replays Brett's answer in his head, trying to make sense of it. "What?" He says eloquently, furrowing his brow.
"Look, last time I saw you, you looked ready to kill Aleks the next time you saw him. And now you're seriously considering teaming up with him. So I know something about him made you change your opinion. So if that's enough for you, then go for it." Brett explains.
"And what about you?" James asks.
"I'm with you every step of the way," Brett replies. James doesn't say anything immediately, just fixates himself of Brett's face. His gaze is even, eyes determined, showing no signs of wavering. Once again, James can't help but inwardly sigh in relief. He knows Brett will always be by his side, he's proven it time and time again. But it's always nice to hear that out loud, to be reassured that his feelings are mutual. It's easier to think with the warmth of his gaze grounding him.
James hums and makes a decision.
----
Seven months later
"We did it," Aleks breathes next to him, eyes wide. In front of them, the last of the Vespucci's warehouse is in flames, the bright colors lighting up the night sky. James can feel the heat from where he's standing, and he's a solid fifty feat away from the blaze. Or maybe that's less to do with the fire and more to do with the fact that Aleks is pressed into his side.
"There's still gonna be stragglers, you know," he can't help but say, because it's true. A powerful group like the Vespucci wouldn't go quietly into the night.
"Dude, fucking… don't ruin my mood, dude," Aleks snaps back, annoyed. Despite that, he buries himself closer into James, eyes light. "We did it, that's what matters."
James hums, eyes watering due to the smoke. He can't help but think about how far they've come. Six months ago he wouldn't have ever dreamed about getting this close to Aleks again, but now, it feels natural. Somehow, he slotted himself perfectly back into his life again. And he doesn't seem to mind.
"You assholes gonna stand there all night?"
Aleks's head shoots up from its place on James's shoulder, and even James can't help but whirl around at the sound of the voice. But it's only Brett, armed with some glass beer bottles.
Aleks relaxes immediately. "We're just enjoying the moment, man," he insists, outstretching hand for a beer. Brett tosses him one, and Aleks fumbles a bit, but manages to grab hold of it. Brett scoffs, opting to hand James's normally.
"Yeah? You did very little to actually help blow up the warehouse," Brett says, popping open his beverage.
"What do you mean dude, someone had to plan this all out! Without my creative genius, none of this would've happened!" Aleks's tone sounds agitated, but he's smiling.
Brett rolls his eyes. "Yeah, if you're such a genius, I don't think you'd want to stick around here for much longer. The police'll be coming soon."
"They've always got to ruin everything. We were having a moment," Aleks gripes again, taking a swig of his beer.
"You're all about these moments, huh?" James quips, catching Aleks repeat himself.
"Well, yeah," he mutters, burying himself back into James's shoulder. "That's what it's all about, isn't it?"
James hums, as Brett comes and wraps his arm around the both of them. There's sound of sirens in the distance, the smell of smoke behind him, and the sight of two people he loved most next to him…Yeah, he wouldn't change this for the world.
