#Achievement hunter isert

[chezzkaa]

Cinders - Chapter 33/36

A/N: Get excited. 34 and 35 are gonna fuck you up.

All Chapters

SUMMARY: Lets Heist

WC: 2109

Warm sunlight seeps into your skin, rousing your from a deep sleep. Though your eyes remain closed each of your breaths draws in the morning and expels the aches of the past few days into the sheets. You let yourself enjoy the normality of the moment, Ryan’s soft breathing shifting through your hair and tangling in his own as it brushes across your cheek. Lying on your front with an arm tucked under your chest you legs splay out, Ryan’s strong arm wound around your waist; comforting and familiar.

It comes as a surprise that your mind is clear for the first time in weeks, despite your throat being thick and raw from the tears the night before. Your ravaged heart is lighter, shoulders moving with ease as her face swims past. No longer does the sight burn, instead leaving a mild sting without the Cheshire rearing her head – nowhere to be found. A pleasant sigh ruffles against your skin, arm tightening for a moment as a light groan escapes the slumbering man’s lips. Eyes squeezing shut to block the delicate sun dusting his eyelids. You shuffle closer, fingers running across his cheek and eyes mesmerised by the calm radiating from him, “morning dear.” His voice is husky and clogged with sleep, still it courses through your veins like wildfire, tugging against the corners of your lips as he places a kiss against your forehead; “hey there, sweetie.” “Sup?”

The second voice has you shooting up from the bed to see Ray occupying your couch and digging into a large bowl of your cereal. Legs crossed and face content despite the bruises circling his eyes. You narrow your eyes before rubbing them, hands falling into your lap with a gentle thud; “the fuck are you doing here?” Ray offers you a shrug and a wide smile around another mouthful, “eatin.” “Wait, but how?” “...with a spoon.” “Y/N please, it’s too early for murder” mumbles Ryan into the pillows, stretching out his limbs and wiggling his toes. You reach back to him, fingers finding his and moulding together. “Well,” you return your attention to Ray, “did you at least save us some cereal?” The man chews slowly, guilt stretching across his face as you narrow your eyes. Quickly he shovels the rest of the cereal into his mouth, forcing an incoherent apology through, “you’re a lil bitch, Ray.”

Ryan moves to sit up in bed, smiling at the man as he shuffles his back against the headboard. Instinctively you curl into his side, unable to deny the happiness swelling in your chest. Even though Ray always seemed to eat you out of house and home, you couldn’t help but enjoy the company of your two favourite people. 

It doesn’t take long for the past few days to begin nagging at your peace, Jon surfacing within your mind and bobbing uncomfortably for your attention. Your heart lets of a painful pang, concern for your brother quickly working its way into your content moment and tainting it like a poisonous undercurrent.

“Stop looking so fucking depressed,” Ray teases, jabbing his spoon in your direction while Ryan presses a light kiss to your shoulder, humming; “Trevor and Matt are working on decoding the final few lines of data, then we should have a complete location to work with.” Not trusting your voice you simply nod, Ryan’s fingers tracing soothing circles against your hip. “Thanks,” he smiles to Ray, of who returns the sentiment with a thumbs up and a raise of his now empty bowl; standing to put it away. “No problem,” he replies while closing the dishwasher and pulling the milk from the fridge, finishing off the tea he had started for the three of you whilst you were sleeping, “we should know what’s up in a couple of hours.” He balances the mugs between his two hands, shuffling towards the coffee table and managing to place them down without spillage. “Until then,” he snatches the remove off the couch, plonking into the cushions with a wide grin, “wanna play a game?”

“God DAMN IT Ray!” cries Ryan mournfully, watching the bullet shoot through his character from beside you; ray and Jeremy sandwiching you in an overflow of blankets from the other side. “One fucking time, just let us win one fucking time!” “Can stop a Hispanic with a cause!” he cheers, kicking his legs about and getting them caught in the blankets, struggling to break free. Seeing his moment to strike Jeremy abandons his controller, pointing to Ray as he quickly begins trapping himself, “GET HIM!”

Ryan launches across you, scrambling from the blankets to get to Ray past Jeremy, wrestling for the controller. With a jolt they slip from the couch and to the floor, hollering and kicking indiscriminately. “No, NO! It was all a rouse!” “Fuck yeah!” Your victorious exclamation rings out as you kill the final or your friends, pulling your legs up to avoid the scuffling men at your feet. Amidst the giggles and yelling a knock at the door has you standing, leaping over the flailing limbs to greet the visitor. Standing outside is Trevor, his hair swept back and so blond it almost shone white, mouth opening and ready to act professional. At the sound of the fighting inside the apartment he stops, eyebrows furrowing as he peers past to watch the pile; face bewildered.

“What’s up, lovely?” you ask, leaning against the frame as he continues to watch the sight before him; absolutely enthralled. Shaking his head he stammers for a minutes, a flurry of ‘I, errs’ tumbling from his lips. You wait patiently, eyes trained on your family – Jeremy trying to crawl over Ryan to reach the couch but the man wrestling him back down. “I erm, well, we’re in.”

The heist room is yet again cluttered with bodies huddling into the space, tension rippling through the air like wind over water. Your eyes are watching Gavin across the table while he works into a tiny mirror, hand flicking the golden eyeliner across his lid in a smooth motion. Absentmindedly your fingers touch your cheek, pulling away to watch the shimmer of colour glow across the tips – the Golden Boy having passed you his compact to splash gold across your eyes; the Cheshire materialising in front of the crew and picking at their nerves. Beside you Ryan clutches his skull mask, staring at Geoff creating ruts in the floor from his pacing. Ray is on your other side, completely at ease while he plays with his hot pink sniper rifle. A white masquerade mask perched against his forehead.

You manage to draw your gaze away from Gavin and the rest of the crew, coming to settle on Geoff while he fidgets, Jack having stopped his movements while whispering frantically to him. With a shaking breath he calms down and expels his worries, Jack quickly pecking the side of his temple with a kiss before disappearing into the crowd of bodies. He clears his throat a moment later, the noise harsh in the silence draped over the room. Still he has everyone’s attention instantly, all eyes trained on his and listening like their lives depended on it.

“The shipyard,” he starts, turning to pin the photograph up on the notice board, containers littering the space, “Matt tells me that there’s no way he could be hiding somewhere else, too much traffic to this area.” Matt nods from your right, continuing “the coding showed that the visits are incredibly frequent and for long periods of time.” “We investigated a little further,” pipes in Trevor, leaning an elbow on the table, “and found that the whole yard is being rented by a Mr. Gareth Benson.” “Had a drone fly over, the place is crawling with his men, small number of cops out of uniform. It’s armed to the fucking teeth,” concludes Matt, impatiently pushing his hair out of the way.

Geoff taps his notepad with the end of his pen once, “good work guys. So,” he turns back to the board to place an accompanying aerial shot next to the entrance, “here’s how it’s going to work. We hit it tonight, in teams. In and out, kill everyone we can.” Everyone is nodding, sharing glances at potential team mates along with murmurs of agreement. Your eyes are still trained on Geoff, tracing the frizz of his moustache and the creases on his forehead. He waits until the room quietens again, sweeping a hand towards Trevor, Lindsay, Meg and Matt. “We’ve got our eyes sorted, each of you are going to be watching one group and passing along intel when needed. Matt, you can hack into the security cameras, right?” a small nod from the man, a confirmation. “Good. Get drones out there too, as well as body cameras. We’ll need everything we can get.”

Moving on Geoff then jabs the pen towards Gavin and Michael, the two men a stark contrast against each other – gunpowder and gold. “You two are taking the outer perimeter. We need as many explosives as possible, cause a distraction and pool everyone inside. No one gets out alive. Think you can handle it?” Grins meet his raised eyebrow, Michael’s face splitting into a wild beam while Gavin nods eagerly. “Put on a show,” he squeaks, kicking his feet up on the table, “I think we can do that.” Michael swipes at them, knocking them off and back to the floor with a glare, “not on the fucking table, jack ass. Jeez.”

“Ray,” Geoff addresses the man beside you, his attention drawn away from his sniper for a moment, “you’re our sniper.” “Fucking surprise, surprise.” Geoff ignores him, motioning to the aerial view and marking out 4 small points, “these are the best places for you. Feel free to move between them as needed, you’re the only one I trust to shoot a bullet over my head.” “You really shouldn’t.” “You don’t make things easy, do you?” “Nah.” Despite his jokes Ray takes the job seriously, clambering through the crowd to the map and jotting down the points he could use, indicating a few more that might also be beneficial. Trusting him, Geoff gives him the go ahead to add a few more before he returns to your side.

Finally the leader turns to you, regarding your group and Jeremy sitting on the floor, bouncing his leg. “What’s your fucking name again?” “Cheshire,” says Ray, sounding genuinely surprised Geoff had forgotten. However the small hum shakes Geoff’s moustache, and you shrug. “I don’t think the three of us have a team name.” “Sure we do!” pipes in Jeremy from the floor, looking up at you with a smile, “I’ve thought of everything.” “Well?” Geoff’s foot taps impatiently, his anger hanging in the air, “what is it then?” “Get this,” Jeremy holds out his hands, presenting his idea “Crazy Short Temper.” You stare at him while Ryan chuckles, ruffling the man’s purple hair, “how are you so good at this?” “It’s a gift.”

Forging forward Geoff begins to rule off his orders, stealing your full attention. “Crazy Short Temper, you guys are going to be our main point of attack. You’ll be in the thick of it, fighting towards the centre,” the pen scribbles across a red container in the middle of the yard, stacked at least 6 high, “and towards the shithead.”  You give a sharp nod, feeling your body straighten and grow cold, “Jack and I will be giving you air support. Each of us in a jet and doing what we can to cause as much destruction as humanly possible.”

Leaning across the table Geoff’s face grows serious, eyes flashing menacingly as he addresses the rest of his family, “This is gonna be a shit storm.” Everyone hangs on his words, shuffling in place under the intense gaze he was offering, “I don’t want anyone to die here. I get that we can generally go running around without a care in the world, but remember; we don’t know if there are any negative repercussions to immortal deaths. We do know that if you lose a part of your body and it’s destroyed, you’re fucked. So, no stupid deaths and for god sakes stick together.” He stands again, this time looking at you sitting ramrod straight in your seat, Cheshire seeping into your veins. “First person to have eyes on the fucker needs to blow his brains out. We’ll deal with the organ thing later. And if you find Jon,” his eyes go to the rest of the room.

“I don’t care what you’re doing; just get him the fuck out.”