Chapter Text
“Wait a minute. Ryan, you’ve never died?”
Geoff and Ryan were driving back to Geoff’s penthouse in Ryan’s less-than-subtle black and green Pegassi Zentorno. Geoff was sitting in the passenger seat trying to shake off the groggy feeling of a respawn after the deal with their suppliers had gone south.
Ryan had gotten out with the guns and his life, but the same couldn’t be said for the suppliers.
They pulled up to a red light, not wanting to attract attention from the cops by running it.
“Nope,” Ryan answered nonchalantly, although he was quick to add, “and I’d like to keep it that way as long as possible.”
Geoff raised his eyebrows, his moustache twitching slightly. “You know you gotta pop that cherry sometime... We could do it right now if you’d like.” Geoff pulled his gun from his shoulder holster and cocked it.
“Whoa!” Ryan threw his hands up instinctively. “No. No, no, no thanks, I’m good, let’s not.”
Geoff shrugged and re-holstered his gun. “Alright, but it’s gonna happen eventually… I just think it might be easier on you if you know it’s coming. First time’s always a bitch.”
Ryan swallowed, relaxing a little as the light changed to green. “Well, thank you for your concern, but, uh, I’m fine dying on my own time.”
“Whatever you say, buddy.” Geoff shrugged it off, but the thought still lingered in his mind.
* * *
“Hey, how many times have you died, Michael?” Geoff asked the lad later that night, back at the penthouse.
Michael scoffed a laugh. “Fucked if I know, pretty sure I lost count around double digits. If you want the record though, you should talk to Gavin. He’s died more times than I can remember.”
“Are you saying awful things about me again, Michael?” Gavin called out from the kitchen, tossing Michael a beer as he opened his own and slumped on the couch next to him.
“Geoff wanted to know how many times I’ve died. I just said 'not as many times as you have'.” Michael tossed Gavin the Xbox controller and popped the cap on his beer, taking a long swig. “What’d you wanna know for, Geoff?”
Geoff sighed, looking a little irritated. “Nah, it’s stupid. It’s just… You know… Would you believe me if I said Ryan had never died?”
“What? Ryan? Bollocks.” Gavin spluttered through a mouthful of beer.
“No,” Michael deadpanned, holding back a grin. “I would absolutely not believe you.”
“Motherfucker says it’s true,” Geoff insisted shaking his head. “And y'know, I can’t think of a single time I saw him die.”
“Holy shit. You know, you might be right,” Michael mused.
“Has Lil J died yet?” Gavin asked quizzically. “I can’t remember.”
Michael burst out laughing.
“Hazing day, dude! Oh that’s right, you weren’t there for that…” Geoff began with a smirk.
“We fucking killed the shit outta him!” Michael exclaimed, still laughing. “We killed him so many times and then the cops killed him when he tried to come after us. That was a great day. Wait! Didn’t Ryan die that day too?”
“No, he ran away, dove under the pier and rode it out,” Geoff corrected.
“That rat bastard.” Michael was now sharing some of Geoff’s annoyance at Ryan’s lack of deaths. Somehow it felt like he was cheating. “Oh, we gotta fucking kill him, Geoff. He needs to die.”
Gavin scowled. “What you’re just gonna pop him in the head when he walks in the door or something?”
“No, there’s gotta be a way we can make this more fun.” Geoff rubbed his chin and grinned. “I think I know what we can do.”