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brokenpieces-72 · 2 months ago

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CoD Gangster AU | Navigation

Note: First off, this is a season 2 essentially, and the files on my phone are highly laggy, so new chapters will take extra time. Second, feel free to ask questions and make requests about this AU, it allows me to get a better idea of the world myself. Third, there is some christmas stuff on the way, just the holidays are crazy sometimes.

TW: Mentions of death, funeral, high emotions and angst, old memories, let me know if I missed any.

“We’re gonna need a new place to lay low.” Price announces. You sigh quietly. Of course, it couldn’t be as simple as going back to how things were. Pissing off one of the biggest and sketchiest names in the city was bound to force some hands. Makarov wouldn't just leave you alone, and with you still recovering, a new hiding place was pretty important. “Something simple, somewhat remote, low key. We’ll still be going in and out of here, but after Y/N got picked up, it’s clear they won’t hesitate to start looking around here. If they just have the single look over that would be enough for me, but we can’t be in here. Gaz you’ll need a new ride as well.”

“Nik’s already sent me some options.” Kyle confirms, tucking his phone away. “So open houses?”

“Even with our names cleared, there’s still the chance someone will say something. Milena’s in real estate, she could easily find us.” Simon says, sounding less hopeful.

“So bumming it for a while?” Johnny suggests. The other options would be asking Alejandro or Farah for cover, but they were in shallow water themselves. You lean back on the couch, the cat hopping down from Simon’s shoulder to the arm rest and over to your lap. You check the time again, to see if you could take another pain killer. Then you remember something.

“I might have an idea.” You say.

“We’re not asking Graves.” Johnny says. You shoot him a look, pressing your lips. He gives you a grin.

“Kay that was mean.” You say, with a few half smiles around you. “But no I have a place.”

“Where?” Price asks, folding his arms.

“…I have a house. Outside of the city, so it’s a bit more remote than you might want but it’s large enough, it’s in my name, there’s some bedrooms in the basement, the plumbing and electricity should still work.” You trailed off, realizing what this would mean. Going back to the house again and this time staying. The rest of the men were quiet. They were considering it. It would be easier than trying to find a place somewhere else in the city. At the very least they could use it while looking for a place within the city. “None of it should be on record.”

“…let’s get to work.” Price says.

Kyle’s new ride wasn’t half bad, a standard vehicle, five seats, and you were riding shot gun giving directions. You take a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt. It's just a house. A house you grew up in. A house you stayed up in. A house you celebrated in. A house you mourned in. You take a deep breath and walk up to the door, ignoring the glances from your friends. You keep your head down, as you step inside. It;s a little cold. You take off your shoes, asking the other’s to do the same, trying to ignore your surroundings, telling them where there are bedrooms, bathrooms, and the kitchen. You ask them to avoid a couple places.

Hearing no protests, you head upstairs towards one of the rooms you didn’t want them to go. You didn’t go to your father’s room, instead you go to your own. The door is shut tight. A room you knew well. You had to confront it. If you don’t you’d just hide again. You were your own person, what was on the otherside wasn't who you were anymore, you'd grown up. You could do this, confront it first hand. Your hand goes on the door knob, gripping it tight.

“Problem?” Price asks, making you jump and whip around. You didn't even hear him come up the stairs.

“N-no. Did you find a room?” You ask, after getting your heart to steady.

“We were going to but something in your fridge growled at us, when we passed." Price says. There shouldn't be any food in the fridge.

“Shit the ice maker.” You hurry past him, to shut it off. You swore you turned it off a long time ago.

Rooms had been sorted, food was being picked up, and Simon was getting the cat, so you took the opportunity to sit outside, in the overgrown backyard, on the swing that still hung from the tree. The same tree you fled to during the waking. The same tree you and your father had picnics under. The same… fuck.

You let your legs sway you forward and back, the rope still holding. You stare at a spot by the trunk, where the roots parted perfectly for you to sit in. The same…it was all the same.

You get up from the swing and took short steps to your favourite spot. You sit down and lean back against the trunk, almost perfectly shaped to fit you, even after all these years. A tiny smile forms. You chuckle shaking your head, at the thought of the tree welcoming you back home. There were a few tears, but you weren’t sure if it was emotions or just your eyes watering. You close them, letting the soft breeze help you relax. You were home. This was okay.

Last time you were here…

The crowd was too much, the people were too much, the black outfit was itchy, and you just wanted your dad to come home. The few small comments about the red scarf around your neck seeming inappropriate were getting to you. Graves was keeping a safe watch over you. You don't know if it was for your benefit or for his as he seemed to hover around you. All you wanted was to ask them all to leave.

Everyone kept coming up to you asking where you would be staying, and offering their condolences, saying how hard it must have been to lose your father so young, how much you reminded them of him, and a couple had said they hoped to see you grow into a remarkable cop like him. Stop. You wanted them to stop. Graves would usher you away anytime he noticed you starting to look uncomfortable or if he saw your ears growing wet. Then he would take you aside, telling you to be brave, wiping your tears.

As soon as Graves had his attention taken away from you, you made your move. Without warning you fled to the backyard, to the tree you’d spent so much time under.

You went there looking for your father, with the pain of knowing he wasn’t there. Your spot under the tree hid you from everyone inside. Finally, you could cry without anyone asking you not to or Graves reminding you to be strong. You tugged your black outfit around you tighter, burying your face in your red scarf. The tears poured down your cheeks, as you kept tugging, trying to feel your father’s arms around you again. You grew light-headed from your grasping breaths, and any words came out as squeaks. You wanted it all to be some dream, to wake up from it all. To find your father next to you in bed, trying to pull you of this nightmare.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair you lost him so soon. You missed him so much, he was all you had and the world took him from you. Monsters took him from you. It wasn’t fair at all. You wanted him to come over and tell you everything was okay. That it was some sick practical joke. But he wasn’t coming, because it was all real. You wanted them all to leave, to go away so you could be alone in the house by yourself. Just two of you together. But it was just you.

Someone sat down next to you, but your head was buried in your arms, and your knees to your chest. At first you didn’t notice anyone, too focused on the horrible. You flinched when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Your head shot up and turned to the new arrival. The hand pulled away from you once you saw who it was.

“Here.” A glass of water was offered to you, by a man in a dark suit. He had a mustache and brown short hair. He was younger, likely a rookie. Another cop, not from the same precinct but you’d seen him before once or twice. When he looked down at you, there wasn’t pity but a sort of understanding. As if you’d come out here for the same reason as him.

You took the glass from him, taking small sips. The water felt good against your sore throat. You mouthed a tiny thank you.

“Alex Keller.” Alex said holding out a hand to shake. You shook it nodding. “You need anything else? Blanket? Some food? …me to fuck off?”

You let out a small laughing noise. Right now you didn’t know what you wanted. You shrugged in response.

“Uh… I um…” you stuttered, your throat filled with so many lumps there was barely any room for words. “I don’t… I don’t know…”

As your sobs returned Alex sat down next to you. “Okay, okay… once you know what you need, I’ll get it for ya.”

You don’t remember how long you and Alex had sat there for, with you just crying, and drinking the water. Alex had gone back inside at one point to refill your glass, and to get you a sweater, since the wind was picking up. When he came back out you overheard him talking to Graves.

“Are they okay?” He asked Alex.

“Graves not now.”

“It's cold out here, they should come inside.”

“They don’t want to be inside. Just leave them be.” Alex said, firm but calm.

Graves sighed. “…some people are asking about them.”

Alex shrugged, “and? Graves they just lost their father.”

“I lost my partner.” Graves reminded him.

“Phil.” Alex said once. There was a pause.

“Stay by them… please.” Graves asked. Alex nodded.

“They need time alone.” Alex stated, before making his way back over to you. Graves went back inside but he’d kept checking on you from the window. Alex handed you the new glass of water, your tears subsided for now.

“So… what do you want?” Alex asked. You finished your sip of water before answering.

“For the pain to leave.” You replied. Alex let out a small sigh.

“I asked your dad that once.” Alex said. “I hurt innocent people, and thought it was the right thing. Lived with that for a long time. Your dad came to me, hearing I was in a bad place. I sat with him in my house and asked him ‘when does the pain leave’. Told me it doesn’t and it shouldn’t. That it’s a sign to try something else.”

“Does it hurt less?” You asked.

“Over time. It becomes like a scar, it sticks with you but it hurts less.” Alex said. Up until that point no one had really given you a proper answer to that question. They just said it would take time, it will all be okay in the end, and your father was in a better place. You wiped at your cheeks and eyes again, using your scarf.

“Do you need a hug?” Alex asked. You nodded and moved closer to him while he put his arms around you. “Let it out. Trust me that will help you.”

Your tears continued falling, but you felt safer with Alex, than inside with Graves. You didn't know it but Alex felt his own heart crack a bit. He may not have been as close to your father, but your father stepped up when others seemed to fall short. When your father came to him, he had screwed up big time. If your father hadn't stepped in, it would have been a much different outcome.

“If you want some more help with the pain, screaming helps.” He suggested.

“Really?”

“Yep…you wanna scream?” Alex offered. You took a deep breath, about to scream. “No! No no!” Alex said quickly stopping you, chuckling. “Let’s not do it here, we don’t want to scare everyone inside.”

“Oh.” You said.

“Why don’t we head back in, get something to eat, and after everyone has left, we can go find somewhere to yell?” Alex offered. You nodded and held his hand as you both walked back inside. Now Alex stuck close to you, with Graves giving you some space to eat in peace. Alex was a comforting presence, and Graves was relieved to see you crack a smile from time to time. Eventually everyone had to leave, but you didn’t get to go with Alex afterward. Graves had insisted for you to stay home. Stay safe. You even asked him about the man you saw at the cemetery, and he told you not to worry about it.

Someone sits down next to you, and you open your eyes. Ghost looks at you, the stray on his shoulder. He looks like a ghetto Pokémon trainer or something with his dark jacket, the skull mask over his mouth and nose, and the cat hopping down to curl up on his lap.

“You doing okay?” He asks. You nod. He knows you’re not. The cat gets some pets.

“How’s the shoulder?” He asks.

“Still sore when I move it.” You tell him. He nods, and you two return to silence again. The winds picks up, making the branches above you, bob up and down. You take a deep breath. Simon takes a deep breath himself. Something about this moment… feels… right. You don’t want to ruin it but you have questions.

“Why did you stop Soap at the door? After you found out I was a cop.” You ask. Simon doesn’t have to think about it, but he takes time to form an answer.

“Soap gets heated when he’s dealing with shit he doesn’t like. I’ve seen the results and I didn’t want to see them again. Not on you.” The last three words he says quickly, as if he’s covering something with them.

“Thank you. For taking me in.” You say.

“That was all Price. Johnny told me about you, and then I told Price. When we were younger, we made a promise to keep you safe.” Ghost says. “How are your wounds?”

“Healing. Still some aches, but not too bad.” You say. You don’t look at each other. As soon as one of you looks at the other, you look at whatever is in a different direction. It’s back to silence again. Awkward silence. Simon was usually quiet though, you assume it’s a preference of his. So you two sit and simply… do nothing. The soft purrs from the stray continue from Simon’s lap. The soft breeze continues to rustle the leaves above. You feel yourself becoming more and more relaxed, and you slowly nod off. As your head starts to drop you feel an arm around your shoulders and a hand gently guiding your body to Simon’s shoulder. You take the last bits of consciousness you have to move a little closer, nestling into him. His fingers play with your hair, and you drift off.

Simon gazes down at you. You felt so safe with him. Then again, you hadn’t seen much of his real work.

Graves goes to your old apartment. Makarov was sending an officer, claiming you were now a missing persons. Phil wasn’t going to let anyone find you before he did. Graves knows you’re somewhere else but he wants to see you again. After sending you back to wherever you’d been with Alex, and seeing your injuries… he’d been struggling to keep his distance, wanting to see you. He made a promise to keep you safe, and screwed up.

Alex was refusing to give Graves anything on your location, as was Farah. The pub was closed for “renovations”. Stepping foot in Los Vaqueros territory was suicide, and bringing an extra officer - even Alex - was a good way to get into a fight. His number was blocked on your cellphone, or just wasn’t working.

Graves is able to get inside with a spare key, and is sure to lock the door behind him. Is this kind of creepy for a grown ass man to wander your apartment when he knows full well you weren’t home? Yeah, plenty creepy. But it was the only lead he had right now. He looked through the living room and kitchen, finding nothing. He does check your fridge to see if anything had gone off in there, and thankfully you’d long since cleared it out. From there he checks your bedroom, and… it looked almost cleared out. A few of your clothes remained, and he recognized them as yours, along with a few photos. He was about to check the bathroom next when there was a knock at the door.

Truth be told he wasn’t supposed to be at your apartment, but technically you weren’t either. He goes to the door and spies through the peep hole. He expects to see an officer, but he sees… what did this bitch want?

Phil opens the door making Milena look up with a bit of surprise.

“Can I help ya ma’am?” He asks, clearly unhappy. Milena just looks a back at him pressing her lips.

“Is Y/N L/N home?” She asks.

“Probably.” He answers. The two stare at each other expectantly.

“May I speak with them?” Milena asks, trying to keep herself composed.

“Don’t know, ya got their number?” Phil says, keeping himself wedged between the door and its frame. No way he was letting Makarov’s little birdie into your place, whether there was anything she could gain or not. Romanova was probably sent here to find dirt for Makarov before some half decent rookie could get any clues. Graves has already gotten rid of most of your existence from the station, but Makarov still had a couple leads.

“Are they here?” Milena asks plainly.

“No.” Graves says, as if it had been obvious. To be fair… kind of was. “Now please, leave.”

“What exactly are you doing in their apartment?” Milena asks quickly, stopping Graves halfway from shutting the door. He returned to the same position looking at Milena.

“The hell is it your business?” Phil asks.

“The land lord of the building is very strict about guests, and I don’t think he would appreciate-“

“Wait wait wait, hold up.” Phil says, chuckling. Was she implying what he thought she was implying? “I have a spare key to this apartment for just about any number of reasons.”

“What exactly is your reason?” Milena says crossing her arms. She gets a small laugh from Graves.

“Ms. Romanova… my relationship with my former partner is my business, and last time I checked you’re not a cop, there is no health assessment scheduled, and no eviction notice. So kindly see yourself out.” Graves says, and with that he slips back into the apartment, locking the door good and tight.

Phil knew what Milena was doing there, and it wasn’t just to see if she could sell the apartment. If it wasn’t to look for you, then it was to monitor him. He waits for a bit, checking your fridge again to see if there was the off chance you had any drinks. Then he checks the pantry, and… carbonated water? He isn’t picky right now. Taking a can he is sure to open it near the door. After that he simply goes to your couch and waits on it. Milena eventually gives up, and he celebrates the fading sound of heels with a sip. It’s room temperature, but… hold up.

Graves checks the can, reading the label. You hate this stuff. He knows he’s in your apartment. No mix up there. Then it hits him, and recent memories come back of him drilling in to you, lecturing you, and then the night you came back all beaten and bruised.

“And what have I done? Nothing! I’m a glorified tagger that’s what you said right?! Fine! Then I’ll be one! You gonna arrest me then?”

What had he done to you? He knew he fucked up in more ways than one but the realization finally hits him in the gut. Throughout the time you’d known each other he was trying to make you in his own way. He was toughening you up and setting restrictions between the two of you. You got the drink for him, not yourself. The few times he’d come to your apartment before the case, you offered one to him, but he was always just there for business. On a few occasions he’d spent time with you but it was always to make sure you didn’t give up on being a cop or as a sort of reward for hard work.

The whole time he’d wanted a student, a cop. Your father wanted you to be safe and he did that, but he had only pushed you away. Put you on some pedestal for him to start sculpting. At what point did you stop trying?

Philip Graves sits in your apartment, drinking and wondering how hard did he fuck up and not realize it. He wasn't your father, but neither were you.

When you wake up, you’re on the couch in the basement, with a blanket and pillow. You groan, trying to figure out where you are and how you got there. It’s almost foreign to you, this world you’ve woken up in. Slowly you sit up and shove the blanket away. Tea, you need tea. You make your way up the stairs, and emerge into a small hallway that leads to the front door on one side and the kitchen and living space to the other. Simon greets you in the kitchen, giving you a nod. You put the kettle on and sit next to him at the island. Without thinking you rest your head against his shoulder. Simon turns his head slightly but doesn’t move. It’s just you two.

It’s odd yet natural, like revisiting an old show. This feeling of domestic bliss between the two of you is something neither of you are used to, but still remember from a long time ago. Right now it’s just the two of you. You’re where you want to be and where you need to be, right here. The kettle continues to boil, the skies are grey outside, and the stray is curled up in a box with her kits. Simon likes this. It’s warm and comforting having you so easily pressed against him. It’s not something he’s used to, nor he engages with on his own. There’s no need for him to oppose you. It brings you closer to him, easily. There is peaceful silence between you and Simon, and neither of you breaks it.

Soap does.

He comes upstairs, and peeks around the door to basement, seeing the two of you. There’s a war going on in his head. Does he bug you, ruin this moment to get your reaction or take a photo and tease you about it later. He takes a photo of the two of you first. Then Kyle comes up behind him.

“Johnny what are you doing?” He says. You and Ghost both hear Kyle and you get up from your seat to get your tea. It’s like you missed your cue, and now you’re hurrying across the stage to meet it. Both you and Simon are pink in the face. You can hear Johnny’s exasperated sigh, missing the opportunity to take the photo.

“Really?” Soap says quietly to Kyle, as if he knew what Soap was doing the whole time. “They were having a moment.”

Kyle ignores him and just nudges Johnny forward, wanting to get some coffee. His statement doesn’t ring for him until he sees it’s only you and Simon in the kitchen. He pauses but then continues with getting coffee.

“Mornin.” Johnny says, annoyed. You return his greeting as you make your tea.

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