Hidden Identity-A Trevor Philips Fanfiction

Chapter 22

It was as if everything froze...

I glanced down at the trigger. My finger had yet to connect with the sweet spot. Dave was on the ground. There was no blood. He was breathing, but knocked out.
Trevor was sitting up. I quickly tucked my gun away and helped him to his feet. My attention was turned towards the figure towering over Dave.
"What in the actual hell are you doing here?!"
Michael angrily replied, throwing down the weathered board he had used to knock Davey out cold. My cheeks turned red as I backed into Trevor's embrace.
"What the fuck are you doing here?! You're supposed to be fucking dead!"
Trevor growled, clutching me tighter.
"No, you're supposed to be fucking dead but obviously my plan didn't execute correctly! What the fuck are you doing with her?!"
"What am I doing with her?! Oh boy, no 'Thank you Trevor for saving her life!' No, 'I'm sorry Trevor I tried to hand your life off to the FIB and then fucking faked my death for years while my best friend fucking grieved and wrote to my other best friend who you got FUCKING KILLED!!!!"
"Trevor, unlike you I had a fucking family to protect! I didn't want you endangering my family! You're a fucking psychopath!"
"I might be a fucking psychopath but at least I'm a fucking loyal friend! I'm gonna fucking kill-"
"GUYS!"
I yelled, their gazes turning to me. My heart pounded in my chest, a lump forming in my throat.
"I should've known. Just like your father, stupid and acting on adrenaline, in other words, the 'shit' part of the team."
Lester hobbled his way to the commotion.
I swallowed, burning with fury at his comment. All the times he had praised my father in the stories he told me. Not once did he mention the FIB was involved. Not once did he mention Michael was a traitor, and yet he shipped me off to live with him. He never mentioned how Trevor was in the dark, longing for his best friend who was scot-free living it up under witness protection.
"Hey! Don't you fucking talk to her like that!"
Trevor hissed at the crippled man.
"Well, when she involves herself in a life of crime and somehow falls in the likeness of you, it's hard to differ my emotions."
Lester sighed.
"You have a lot of fucking explaining to do, kid."
Michael glared at me.
"You didn't have to come here and save me, nor Trevor. I didn't ask for your fucking charity!"
"And I didn't ask to fucking be your father on paper now did I? But I did it, because as much as I hated Brad, I knew how much he loved you, and I knew Lester had unfairly picked up the burden of raising you, so me, out of the goodness of my heart, took you in. And this, running off with The Lost, your shitty little 'heist' with Trevor, your drug scandals, THIS is how you repay me?!"
"EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!"
Trevor put his hands to his face as if he was about to have a mental breakdown.
"SHUT THE EVERLIVING FUCK UP BEFORE I SHOOT EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU AND THEN MYSELF!!!"
Trevor started to pull out his gun but I put his hand on his and he froze, eventually sighing and moving his hand to connect with mine.
"What, are you two dating now too? For fucks sake, you know what? Whatever, let's get somewhere where we can discuss things properly."
Lester sighed, turning to walk away. Michael picked up Davey's body, assisted by Trevor, and we followed them to their plane. We helped load Davey in the back of the plane and headed to hop in our own. We followed Michael and Lester back to the runway. They had came all the way to Blaine County to follow us, and we somehow did not see them the whole time.
I helped Trevor guide the plane into the hangar, and walked over to where Lester and Michael were packing their car. Trevor grabbed Davey and roughly shoved him in the trunk.
"He should be fine in a few hours."
Michael muttered.
"If he asks, it wasn't me. I'm not losing my witness protection.."
~
We arrived and Michael's house.
"Wow, big fucking upgrades, 'Mr. DeSanta."
Michael rolled his eyes and threw Davey across his shoulder. Trevor helped guide him into the house, where Michael threw him on the couch.
Amanda did not even question the scenario.
"Michael, I'm going to tennis lessons."
Her and an unfamiliar man walked out the door. Jimmy came creeping down the stairs, and stopped at the sight of Davey.
"Uh, dad? Is Davey dead?"
"No son, why would I stain my expensive couch by placing a dead man on it?"
Michael rolled his eyes. Jimmy's eyes connected with mine and he smiled wide, running down the stairs and engulfing me in a hug. I gratefully accepted, burying my face in his chest.
"Bryn! You're back!"
Jimmy pulled away and smiled.
His gaze then met Trevor, in which he looked confused for a moment, but then his genuine smile returned.
"Uncle Trevor! I feel like I haven't seen you in ages! How you doing, G?"
Trevor chuckled at his lingo.
"Ah Jim, so nice to see you. You've gotten, bigger."
I assumed Trevor was insinuating Jimmy's weight, so I elbowed him in the rib cage, making him buckle over.
"Ow! Damn it, Bryn, what the hell?!"
"Be nice to my brother."
I commanded.
I might not claim Michael as a father, nor Amanda or Tracey as relatives. But Jim, he was on a whole different level.
I helped Trevor up as he rolled his eyes, remaining silent but obediently putting his arm around me.
"Well, since we're at a family fucking reunion now, please, have a seat."
Michael motioned to the large dining room table.
We all took a seat as he made his way to the fridge, grabbing some fancy wine and a few glasses from the cabinet. He distributed the glasses, skipping Jim and I, and poured his 'guests' some refreshment.
"Hey!"
Jimmy protested.
"What, it's not like you don't steal most of it anyways."
Michael rolled his eyes.
"That's my boy!"
Trevor chuckled, giving Jim a slap on the back.
A slight knock at the door turned Michael's attention away.
"Come in!"
He called out.
In walked a tall, average sized, black man. Short hair. Pretty muscular built. Handsome, I might add. He was dressed in some baggy blue jeans and a gray button up.
"Hey homie!"
The man called, stopping as he saw the crowd.
"Oh, is this a bad time? Was just stopping by to see about those drinks?"
"No, it's fine!"
Michael deadpanned.
"Please, have a seat."
The man took his seat beside of Lester.
"Guys, this is Franklin. He's, a friend, per se. although we met under odd circumstances."
"For real, dawg."
Franklin half chuckled.
"Frank, this is Lester, Bryn, Trevor, and well you've met Jim. Oh and over on the couch is Dave. He's asleep."
Michael guided his arm around as he introduced us.
"Nice to meet y'all."
"Ditto."
Trevor remarked.
Michael slid Franklin a glass of wine and he accepted it gratefully. Michael took his seat and sighed, resting his arms on the table.
"Alright, somebody start explaining."