A.N: My first fic! Finally!

I got two ideas so far: a oneshot and a milti-chapter story. This is the oneshot idea

I'll try my best!

(P.S) I no own GTA: TLAD. Rockstar owns that.

Alderney State Correctional. A prime example of law enforcement this side of Acter. The pigs and the scum within it's walls willed away the days with whatever it was people did in prison. A biker in a black jacket currently stood outside these walls, his eyes fixed on the gate as if trying to stare it down. This man was no average biker however.

This was Johnny Klebitz, president of The Lost Motorcycle Club.

And he had a bone to pick with one inmate currently within the walls of the correctional.

Strange. Just an hour ago it seemed that things would pick up. That there was light at the end of the dark tunnel that The Lost had been riding down. And then he showed up with a story to tell...


Johnny Klebitz drove his Hexer down the streets of Alderney, trying to clear his head. Today was turning out to be one of the most fucked-up days that he had had since he became leader. After the by-now-infamous Libertonian deal went sour, Ray Boccino wasn't happy with how things turned out. He had kidnaped Jim Fitzgerald, burned him til he looked like hell and lured Johnny into a trap. If it wern't for the loyalty of Terry and Clay, Johnny would have been a dead man.

The same could not be said for Jim however.

After Johnny returned to the clubhouse he found Ashley, his ex-girlfriend, waiting for him. She broke it to him the best she could: Jim didn't make it. He had succumbed to his burns and died. After hearing that, Johnny got really pissed off. At Ray, at Ashley, at himself, at anyone really. He loudly announced to her that she "get the fuck out of here". Looking back, Johnny really hadn't meant to be that harsh.

Right now Johnny wanted nothing more than to return to the clubhouse of The Lost and drown his sorrow in beer.

And then his phone went off.

Johnny stopped the bike and whipped out his mobile: he had a call. A call from a congressman. Thomas Stubbs III. Putting the phone to his ear Johnny let off a bit of steam to the congressman.

"I'm not in the mood to do any killing today for the supposed elite, get your own hands dirty for once Stubbs".

The voice on the other side seemed slightly annoyed by Johnny's tone. "Oh spare me the lectures Johnathan. This is important. Important enough for me to decend from my ivory tower into the slums you call home and rub elbows with you myself".

"What do you mean by that Stubbs?"

The voice ignored his question. "I'm at your clubhouse Johnathan, can you get here quick so i can get a drink? I take single malt" The call ended with that.

"That guy's at the clubhouse? Shit!" Johnny exclaimed to himself as he revved his Hexer. The bike awakened with a roar as Johnny sped off to the clubhouse, running a few red lights that he was actualy shocked that the LCPD didn't chase him for.

Upon arrival, Johnny parked his bike in the alley next to the clubhouse before entering. He walked into the bar area and was greeted by the figure of a fancy fuck from Middle Park, none other than his old accomplise (who had flashed him) Thomas Stubbs III.

"Nice place ya got here Johnathan" The figure turned and faced the biker with a smile on his face. "Not quite sure i meet the dress code" he said, refering to Johnny's attire of black jacket, cream slacks and biker boots, as well as his own attire of blue jacker with white shirt, Blur and Yellow striped tie, casual pants and dress shoes.

"But i think i like the smoking policy" he finished as he took a drag of a cigar he had lighted earlier.

The president of The Lost made it no secret that he didn't want to talk to Stubbs right now. He wanted him out, but before that, he wanted answers. "What the fuck are you doing here Stubbs?"

Stubbs seemed offended by the biker. "Now is that any way to talk to your friend?"

"We're friends?"

"I should hope so" Stubbs smiled. You've certainly seen me naked!" The congressman laughed for a second. "You want a cigar?"

"You want to go fuck yourself?" Johnny returned

"Ooh, not perticualy" Stubbs said in a tone that would make anyone think he had been fucked just then. He dusted off a stool hear the counter and sat himself down. "Now listen. Your friend, Ray Boccino. Don't worry about him".

Now Johnny was intrigued. Why shouldn't he worry about Ray anymore? "Why Not?"

"Apparently he and a buch of his accociates are under some serious observation and in the process of imploding. They'll either by dead or in jail within a month. Best thing you can do is stay away from him until that happens" Stubbs explained. Johnny felt a small load lifted from him. That bastard Ray would get what's coming to him soon enough. But one problem still remained.

"What about Billy Grey?"

"Yes, wll you've got a bit of a problem there". Billy Grey was the former president of The Lost. Under his rule everything kept going to shit. During a triad ambush on The Lost in Chinatown, Billy crashed his bike and was taken in by the LCPD. As vice president, Johnny took over.

"What's Billy done now?" The current pesident of The Lost demanded from the congressman.

"He's been talking inside" Stubbs revealed. "He thinks he can pin a major drug-dealing ring on The Lost MC. He's going into the Witness Protection Program" the congressman explained. "If he collers you, you'll do 15 years and he'll live in a nice condo in arizona".

Johnny didn't doubt that for one second. "I don't doubt that Stubbs, but what can i do? He's inside the correctional. There are currently very large walls and armed guards standing between me and him".

"Yeah" Stubbs breathed "But you're a smart man Johnathan, you'll think of something". Stubbs began to exit when he was stopped by Johnny. "Wait".

"Yes Johnathan?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I told you Johnathan" Stubbs turned his head to the biker. "I'm good for a favor".

Johnny uttered a "Thanks" as Stubbs left the clubhouse. Now that he knew what to do, all Johnny had to do now was think...


And think he did. That thinking had lead him to the gate of the correctional. He knew what he had to do. He just needed backup. And he knew just the two guys to call: Terry and Clay. Johnny's best friends, two of the only Lost Members (along with Angus, who had been handicapped, and Jim, who was dead) that were still loyal to him, even after the civil war that broke out as a result of Billy's arrest.

Johnny whipped out his phone and dialled Terry's number. 10 seconds went by before Johnny heard his fellow brother's voice. "Hey Johnny, what's up?"

"Terry, we need to pay Billy a visit. He's been squeelin' to the pigs. Bring Clay and bring all the fuckin' firepower you got. Meet me outside Alderney State Correctional. I'm waitin!"

12 or so minutes passed before Johnny saw Terry's black van turn the corner along with Clay, following behind on his hellfury chopper.

Their loyal president addressed them. "My brothers, this is the last time. The final run of The Lost. Let's make it the best one". Johnny then joined Terry and Clay at the back of the van

Terry swung open the doors with pride. "Looky, looky here Johnny, think this will be enough?

Indeed it was more than enough. The van was filled to the brim with guns and ammo. The right side housed various explosives such as pipe bombs, grenades and rocket launchers while the right side pocketed some simple firearms like pistols, shotguns and even a knife. The middle of the van was home to the big guns (litteraly). Assult Shotguns, sawn-offs, AK's, assult riffles, sniper rifles and more. It was safe to say that no-one in the lost would dare fuck with Terry, but they would gladly take those weapons of his off his hands... for whatever price he charged.

"Terry, you're cool man. Don't ever forget that" Johnny uttered as he and his brothers browsed the arsenal. Eventually, Johnny settled for an assult shottie, a carbine rifle and an automatic 9mm. He also took some pipe bombs. Clay armed himself with a sawn-off shottie, two SMG's and a sniper rifle. Terry simply settled for a regular 9mm handgun... as well as as an AK-47 and some grenades. All three also took bullet-proof vests

Just as Terry was about to ask for payment, Johnny quickly stated that neither him nor Clay would pay this time. Terry understood, this wasn't about getting paid, this was about giving Billy what he deserved.

Hiding some of their large weaponery within their jackets, the three men casually walked up to the gate of the correctional. "The Lost MC ridin together, just like old times!" Johnny declared.

"Yeah! Before the civil government started taking our civil rights away!" Terry Added

"Before Terry thought the feds were monitering his brainwaves!" Clay Joked

"Before brothers started believing their own bullshit! COME ON!" Johnny shouted as the three broke into a run towards the gate. This was their final run, their last time fighting alongside one-another, the last day of The Lost

After reaching the gate, Johnny told his brothers to get behind him. He took out a pipe bomb from his pocket

"I'm about to intoduce a pipebomb to this gate boys, get back!"

All three then retreated to a safe distance and awaited the explosion.

BOOM!

The gate of the correctional was no more, all that remained was the outline of a massive hole that the pipe bomb had blown into it. Sirens soon sounded and the guards of the correctional quickly rushed to the source of the explosion, some to prevent escapes, others to prevent break-in's

Somewhere within the facility, a bearded man with a skull between his eyes felt his ears prick at the sound of the explosion and immediently knew what it was. "Johnny".

After the smoke cleared, Terry and Clay rushed to cover behind the brick wall that surrounded the hole. Johnny, trusting in his vest, stood in the open, carbine rifle in hand. Bullets came like rain, falling everywhere and clouding vision. While his brothers provided cover fire, Johnny took his rifle and aimed. The carbine rife began to hurl bullets at the opposing policeman, the officers soon falling upon being filled with bullets. Terry blasted away at a limper with his AK.

"Everyone alright?" Johnny asked. Terry and Clay nodded as they continued into the correctional. Clay rushed in with his SMG's firing wildly. Cops became forced to duck under their cover until Clay had to reload. As soon as Clay ran out, Johnny took aim with his assult shotgun. The might of the shells nearly reducing the cover of the officers to rubble, some shells even going through the cover and into the officers. With what strength they had, they returned fire. Most of the impact was cushioned by the three biker's vests, however, Clay soon felt a bullet hit his arm and he fell down in pain.

"CLAY!" Terry shouted as he unleashed his AK. Johnny covered with his automatic 9mm as he went to check on Clay. "You alright there Clay?"

"Yeah Johnny, I'm alright, I'm still livin ain't I? Just pull me up. Johnny did so, grabbing one of Clay's SMG's to cover fire for them.

As soon as Clay was back on his feet a surge of anger rushed through him. "I'm gonna make them pigs pay for that lucky hit of their's

Johnny laughed a bit "Give them hell, Clay."

The two then returned fire with all they had on the opposing forces. Soon the cops that wern't dead had to retreat.

"Nice one guys" Johnny congratulated his teammates "but it aint over yet. The three reloded their weapons and continued on.

The next area seemed to be quiet. No cops or anything.

Johnny decided to voice this "Where are the pigs?" his insult was suddenly punished with a bullet in his gut. He screamed out as he realised what had hit him.

"SNIPER!" There's a fucking sniper somewhere!" Clay and Terry dragged Johnny to cover. Johnny gingerly felt his stomach as the three realised that the vest had saved him. After assuring that Johnny was safe, the two serched for the sniper. Eventually the found the bastard on a roof, Clay picked him off with his own sniper rifle. he aimed right for the head, punishment for shooting his leader.

Upon returning to Johnny, they found him lying near a puddle of Blood covered puke. "Shit Johnny, did you hurl?" Terry asked

"Terrence, I was shot in the stomach with a fucking sniper rifle, wouldn't you puke if you were shot in the stomach with a fucking sniper rifle?

Terry hesitated but soon answered "Not that much".

The three biker's shared a small laugh at this before recollecting themselves and heading on. Soon they had reached the main prison yard... which was crawling wih NOOSE soldiers.

Upon seeing the yard full of soldiers, the three were shocked. "Fuck" they said in unison.

Johnny thought for a minuite there was no way that he could get through all those soldiers, but he couldn't give up. Not while Billy Grey was still alive. He looked at his worried friends. "Now look, I know that it looks like there's no chance we can get through this, but there is. There's always a chance, we just have to take it." After hearing this, Clay and Terry realised that Johnny was right. They could get through this and they were going to.

"Come on boys, Fuck the NOOSE" Johnny announced as they made there way into the yard. As quick as they walked in they fired their weapons and ran for cover. NOOSE soldiers quickly returned fire on their cover. Clay managed to pick off a few soldiers with his sniper rifle and Terry scored a few lucky shots with his 9mm, but Johnny couldn't hit a thing. Everytime he fired, they would either hide behind their cover orevade his fire. It was kind of insulting to the president of The Lost.

"Fuck it" Johnny decided and reached for a pipe bomb, lighting it and throwing it as hard as he could.

The NOOSE soldiers continued their bullet barrage, soon the biker's cover would be no more...

...until one soldier said to the other "Hey you"

"Yeah?" the other soldier replied

"What's that between your legs?"

"What?

"That thing between your legs"

The other soldier looked down and saw what he was really talking about. "Fuck me" was his only thought. "FUCKING BO..."

BOOM!

The soldier, along with his friend, were blasted sky high by Johnny's pipe bomb. Johnny himself smiled in victory. "Suck on that NOOSE fags!". The snipering, lucky headshoting and occacional pipe-bombing continued until the three bikers were all that remained, not even their cover was stable any more.

"Didn't i tell you there was a chance?" Johnny asked, Terry and Clay Nodded.

"Right" Johnny ordered "Terry, Clay, get our bikes and bring them here before more pigs show up. I'm gonna find Billy and make him pay.

"Give him hell Johnny, for us" Clay spoke as he and Terry left to retreive the bikes. Johnny pulled out his automatic 9mm and looked around "Billy Grey! Get the fuck out here! I know you're hiding you Judas!"

Slowly, a man walked out into view, a man with a beard and a skull between his eyes. Billly Grey: Former president of The Lost MC. "Johnathan Klebitz, my brother".

Johnny rebuked him. "Brothers don't mean shit coming from you". he lifted his automatic 9mm and took aim.

Billy laughed. "Nice automatic Johnny. What do you plan on doing with it?

"I plan on emptyin a clip into your skull Billy, but i think you already know that.

Billy smirked and stared Johnny down. "And why whould you want to do that?"

Johnny felt anger for Billy resurface. "You already know what you did, but i'm gonna tell you anyway: You sold out The Lost, you lead us into ambushes, you set us up, you betrayed us!"

"No" Billy calmly replied and looked Johnny in his eyes. "I betrayed you. Fuck The Lost. It was all you Johnny-the-jew.

Johnny felt both angry and shocked at the same time. Billy betrayed him? Not The Lost, just him? what did he mean by that? And then it hit him.

"You never wanted me to rule the brotherhood, did you?"

Johnny's former leader laughed again and then replied with utmost seriousness "Johnny, i think we both know that the title "President of The Lost" doesn't really suit you. Billy circled him, though Johnny kept his gun on him at all times. "And "the brotherhood", really? You still believe in that bullshit?"

Now Johnny was pissed. "What the fuck are you talikng about?"

Billy's face took on a look of pity. "The Lost isn't a brotherhood, if it ever was." Johnny's fist gripped the handle of his gun tighter as Billy continued to talk "The Lost MC is nothing more than a club for psychos, slayers and sexually infuriated maniacs who want nothing more than beer and drugs and violence to help them live their pathetic fucking lives. It's a shame only me and Brian seemed to know about that."

In the midst of his rage Johnny remembered Billy's accomplice. Brian Jeremy: Pussy, suck-up, turned an entire chapter of the lost against Johnny.. Currently deceased.

"Yeah? Well guess what Billy?" Johnny cocked his gun. "Brian's in hell, and now you're gonna join him".

"Fuck that" Billy Whispered to himself as he took something out of his back pocket. "I'm not going anywhere".

Johnny aimed for Billy's head. "Goodbye Billy Grey, have a nice trip into hell".

Billy took out a knife and prepared to strike. "FUCK YOU JOHNNY KLEBITZ!"

And then, 17 bullets found themselves filling Billy's skull and brain. The former Lost leader fell dead on the ground. Johnny just stared at his corpse as if he was in a trance, a trance from which he was awakened from by Terry, sounding the horn on his bike. "Come on Johnny, we gotta go! there are more pigs coming!"

Johnny hopped on his Hexer and lead his friends out of the correctional. They managed to evade any more officer attention. While riding home, Johnny spoke up to his fellow riders "Terry, Clay, thakns for ridin with me. This club is fucked all to hell right now, but I'll love you two til the day i die".

"Same here Johnny, it was a pleasure" Clay replied on his and Terry's behalf.

Eventually they returned to their clubhouse. Before this place had been a place of friends and parties. Now it was practically deserted, save for the three bikers that currently occupied it.

"Johnny"

Well, four.

"Angus, hey" Johnny replied to the man in the wheelchair. Terry wheeled Angus around the room so he could look at it and remember the times of before. Before things didn't get so fucked up.

"What's left of us?" Johnny's voice broke the silence. "What's left of The Lost?" Johnny answered his own question "Blood, dust, countless corpses, a bunch of fucking silver plaques that read "R.I.P" and a clubhouse that smells like a museum". His tone was harsh, all his anger and fallen pride spilling out from his mouth in the form of the words that he spoke.

"Well fuck it if i want it standing" Johnny shouted "It stands for BULLSHIT! NOTHING MORE!" His sudden yell shocked the other three. Johnny turned and took a second to calm down. When he was calm, he gave his last order "Terry, get some fuel and alcohol, Clay, get me a molotov. Let's put this place out of it's misery".

Johnny wheeled Angus out while Terry and Clay fufilled their final tasks. Terry covered the bar with all the alcohol behind it and soaked the rest of the place with petrol from the fuel storage. Clay took one bottle from the bar as well as some cloth from the bathroom before helping Terry cover the place in petrol. After completing their tasks, they met up with Johnny and Angus outside. Clay lit the molotov with a match and handed it to Johnny.

"Care to do the honors?"

Johnny smiled and took the flaming the bottle from his friend. He took aim and launched the molotov into the clubhouse, almost instantly it set alight. The windows smashed and the building began to burn. The four men looked at the blaze as if it meant something. And it did. It ment the end of The Lost MC, but not the end of the brotherhood formed by it. Johnny knew that whatever they would go on to do, they would always have each-other's back. They would always look out for one-another.

Brothers for life, Lost forever.