Hello, everyone. So I'm once again away from my usual genre of writing, the Saw genre, because being sick lately has gotten me back into excessively playing GTA IV and admiring all the possible slash I see... XD (Niko/Packie, cough cough...) So, for my second GTA fic, I decided to do something different: a ShuffleFic. For those of you who don't know what a ShuffleFic is, it's a fic where you shuffle your mp3 device and use the first ten songs to write ten one-shots. And don't cheat. XD Anyway, enjoy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So you're not scared?"

"No."

"Why does nothing faze you?"

Niko Bellic sighs, looking down at his dark, scuffed-up tennis shoes. He doesn't even bother looking up at the gun barrel pressed against his forehead anymore. "Because I've done everything I've come here to do."

His Irish opposer offers a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You know, after a year of working together, you'd think that I wouldn't be surprised by any sort of thing you'd do, man. But I forget how unpredictable you are. Death stares you in the face every day." The male shakes his head. "Should've figured me pulling out a glock pistol wouldn't make you cry and beg for mercy."

The opposer, Packie McReary, allows himself to lower the gun to his side, exhaling. And he wonders for a moment, wonders why he's fully capable of firing a few rounds into that freak show mob boss Jimmy Pegorino, but he can't shoot one simple bullet into Niko's head.

"You going to tell me who told you about Francis?" Niko questions, leaning his back against the exterior wall of the Steinway Beer Garden. Packie had cornered him before they'd even gotten inside, scaring the civilians lurking around outside away. No doubt some have called the cops by now, and it's not unlikely that they recognize Packie from the media.

"Derrick, who fucking else?" Packie chuckles, shaking his head. "You know, I can't seem to figure out why you were so fucking boo hoo over sweet little Katie when you gunned down Francis yourself. You want my opinion?" Niko meets his eyes, a dull listlessness outweighing any sort of emotion deep within their brown depths. "You're a hypocrite."

"Great, I'm glad you finally came to that conclusion, Patrick!" Niko throws both hands into the air, raising his voice at this point. "I'm a hypocrite. You know it, I know it, this whole God-forsaken city knows it! I'm not frightened of the truth." He unzips a heavy, brown-leather jacket he's been wearing, only to expose a white T-shirt with blood spattered all over it. Like someone's taken a paint brush and flung red at it.

"What's that from?" hisses Packie, backing up and raising his pistol again instantly. He's always imagined Niko as some sort of homicidal whack-job, ans maybe that turns out that conclusion isn't so far fom the truth...

We're human, we reason
We're breathing, protecting
The living and dying
Surviving, we're trying

"I killed him, Patrick," growls the Serb, holding both hands to his face. "I killed Pegorino. For Kate. For you and your mother. And you can call me a hypocrite as much as you want." He exhales, shaking his head. "I don't give a damn anymore."

Packie stares at his companion. No, his friend. Niko Bellic, one of his only true friends. The closest person he'd ever had to a true friend was Kate. Yes, as much as Kate annoyed him with her vow of chastity and her refusal to let go, she was everything to him. She was the baby of the family, the innocent one. Maybe it's her innocence that made the family so protective of the red-head. She was a saint compared to the rest of them.

And Niko...

Maybe the reason he's drawn to Niko is because of his ability to deal out the brutality asked of him, yet he recognizes how wrong it is. He feels for all the souls dispensed, the innocent people disposed of because he needs the money. But, in the end, Niko's still compassionate. Sensible. Two of the things Packie McReary will never be, has never desired to be.

Justice and mercy
Justice and mercy

"God bless this city."

Niko lets out a small, bitter chuckle of his own, sliding down onto the concrete. "I came here to make the pain go away. It's only grown." Smirks to himself. "Life is complicated."

"Don't I know it, you fucking prince," says Packie, joining Niko after a bit of hesitating.

"Hey, I'm your prince again. Great."

"Well, whether I like it or not, you're all that I have right now. At least you have your cousin."

"He's starting his own life now with Mallorie... They don't need me getting their baby killed."

A life here sacrificed
Someone who paid the price

Packie puts his head in his hands after sitting the pistol down between himself and the Serbian male. "I'm starting to wonder if there's anything left," he mutters quietly. "After Gerry gets out of prison, it's not like anything will be any fucking different. Kate and Frankie will still be dead, I'll still be snorting..."

Staring down at the grey concrete beneath them, Niko nods, half to himself, half to the Irish mobster. Niko will have people like Brucie or Little Jacob or even that superficial bitch Carmen, but the person most important to him is off starting his own life. And isn't it childish. To feel left behind when he's been with Roman throughout this whole journey. He's been the one keeping Niko above the water, that and the desire to assassinate Darko Brevic for all the pain twisted up inside of him for so many years.

Isn't it childish to want to keep stealing away Roman's life?

He's almost gotten him killed so many times already. And Kate was right. It's not like Niko can just walk off into the sunset and never expect to be terrorized by these mobs again. Never expect to not be involved. He's sucked down, far below the every day people, living underground as a homicidal maniac with a slightly calm demeanor.

We cry out, we're fighting
It's warfare, we're dying

"Do you want to get a drink?" Niko Bellic releases a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

Packie purses his lips. "I don't know. I don't know if I trust you anymore. You're my man, my guardian angel, but..."

"But?" echoes the Serbian, widening his eyes.

"But I'm fucking terrified of what'll happen next."

It seems normal. Everything they've worked for, accomplished, yet with so many lives lost along the way. Fire-forged friendships. Bonds broken.

"You don't have to see me again, Packie," says Niko, looking over at the slightly younger man. He knows damn well he's caused Packie enough grief to last a lifetime. "If you don't trust me, then there's no point in working together."

"Come to Kate's funeral."

Niko's eyes widen at Patrick's outburst. Sudden outburst. To think the McReary would still want to be involved with him after all that's happened... To think there's more to those four little words than what he lets on...

Patrick stands, scooting the glock pistol over to Niko with his shoe. "Maybe we'll be able to talk when my head is fucking lucid... I'll have time to think about what to do with you."

"Mm." Niko gets up as well, shoving his hands in his pockets as Packie starts to leave him without saying good-bye. If you decide you don't want anything to do with me, I hope you find more than what you have once we part.

Justice and mercy
Justice and mercy

Maybe that's the last thing that should enter Niko's head before he dies some day. Nothing about regret, nothing about sorrow. No fear of where his soul may end up. No judgment upon whoever's slain him, because he know he'll end up dying by someone else's hand.

He just wants to be able to look back and see what he's provided mercy to.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hope you guys liked the first oneshot. I tried my best. I'm just not used to writing for this genre. XD The song is Justice and Mercy by Flyleaf. Please review. x)