Show a little faith
There's magic in the night
Brian threw the keys on a table by the door, watching as Dom paced around the house. He acted almost as if he didn't know the place, like he was a stranger in his own home. Sometimes Brian thought he might give himself an aneurysm just from the intensity of his glare, the way his whole face contorted with frustration and his body tensed in anger. He hoped his blood pressure was good.
In the kitchen Brian grabbed a couple of beers. He tapped his fingers on the counter over and over, lost in thought, before gathering himself back up and handing one of the beers to Dom.
When Dom looked at him quizzically, Brian just shrugged and smiled. He was sure Dom wondered about what he was thinking, or why the beer, or any number of things, but it was pointless to try to get him to ask. And it was equally pointless for Brian to guess at what he wanted to ask -- he usually turned out to be wrong these days. Dom was even more of a puzzle to him now than he'd been before they got physically involved.
They'd stopped at the store on the way back, told Vic what was happening with Mia, and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening trying to tie up loose ends at the store. Dom had grown increasingly edgy the longer they'd stayed away. After a while, Brian had realized that Dom had no cell phone anymore to take Gregory's promised call, not that Brian expected the guy to deliver on his word. They'd gotten him a new one with the old number and Dom had appeared a little less tense after that, but not by much.
Brian cleared his throat. "I want to say something, stuff that I'm not really good at saying. So don't interrupt me. And I'll probably blow it, but I want to say it anyway." He took a breath, struck by the weird, almost scared way Dom looked at him. "In spite of your psychotic breaks and the extreme-sport-level brooding, I think you're doing an amazing job. What you did today... I could never have done that. Played his game, thrown it back at him like it didn't scare me. If I knew someone else's life was in my hands I couldn't be that casual ... it was amazing to watch. Scary, but amazing." He looked down at his beer, then squinted up at Dom. "That's what you are, no matter what you think. I know you believe you don't deserve anybody's respect, but you do."
Dom stared impassively at him the whole time he spoke, then shook his head when Brian finished. "Don't feel all that amazing." He turned to start up the stairs, but then stopped and looked at Brian. "You are, though. Keeping me going, putting up with me... this fucked-up world. That's the amazing, right there."
He'd never said anything like that before, not to another guy. Brian moved toward him, all loping grace and laid-back attitude, to stand on the stair below, wrapping a hand tight around Dom's arm just above the cast. "No choice anymore. You're stuck with me."
That almost -- almost -- gave Dom a reason to smile. He slid his hand around the back of Brain's neck and leaned to kiss his eager, pliant mouth. Brian grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled him down so that he stumbled onto the lower step as they clawed at each other. Like something had lifted from around them, released them, and they alternately pulled at clothing, buttons, zippers, everything they could as they made their way up the stairs to Dom's room.
Dom couldn't keep his fingers out of Brian's hair; it was like some kind of obsession that his hands had, independent of himself. Brian must have liked it, too: he made little growling noises low in the back of his throat, which only served to arouse Dom more. After they got some of their clothes off, Dom shoved Brian against the wall to kiss and lick down his chest, dropping to his knees as he did. That appeared to cause a near-collapse for Brian, so Dom propped him up with a shoulder, undoing the last button on his fly as Brian weakly tried to tell him he didn't have to do that.
Against Brian's belly, he said, "Never gonna have any fun if we keep telling each other that."
"I know, but..." he began, stopping as Dom ran the backs of his fingers over his cock. He shuddered and took in a sharp gulp of air.
"Shut up." Dom's breath on his skin left it hot and moist.
"Okay, but..." and then he stopped again as Dom pulled his jeans all the way down, then the shorts after that. Dom firmly planted his hands on Brian's hips and turned him around, facing the wall; Brian put his hands flat against it, as if he was being arrested. Now that was a thought. "You really don't have to do anything--"
"Shut... up." He sank his teeth lightly into the soft skin just above Brian's hip and slid his hand around front, just grazing the end of Brian's cock. Dom liked this, the feeling of Brian trembling under his mouth and hands. Trying to hold himself together when he really wanted to let go. Best of all, Brian's ass right in front of him, more appealing than he could ever have guessed. He'd always been an ass man, anyway, so it made a kind of sense that he'd enjoy Brian's just as much as anyone else's. Running his tongue along the curve of one cheek, he pushed Brian's legs apart so he could slide his hand up between them to cup his balls. Every gesture was met with little noises from Brian's throat. After a few moments of watching him wiggle and pant, Dom bit his ass firmly -- not hard enough to break skin, but harder than before, then again, and again, while Brian writhed beneath his mouth. He kneaded the muscle with his good hand, tracing his thumb between the cheeks. Brian plastered himself against the wall.
"Just... are you gonna... you need to stop that and get on with it."
Dom slid up against Brian's back, taking his earlobe between his teeth. "Get on with what?"
"Fucking me, dumbass."
Reaching around, he tweaked Brian's nipple hard. "Told you to stop calling me that."
"I'll keep calling you that till you stop teasing and do it."
Dom ran his fingers through that golden hair again, admiring Brian's profile as he pressed the side of his face against the wall, eyes closed, a dew of sweat over his flushed skin.
"You know it's not easy... It'll hurt."
"I know. I'm ready. And don't start telling me that I don't have to do this." He gripped Dom's wrist hard, twisting for emphasis.
That crazy damn courage of Brian's only made him laugh -- sometimes he wondered if there was anything the guy was actually afraid of. "Gotta get something, then."
Brian turned around slowly, still leaning on the wall, like he couldn't quite manage to stand up without it. "Already did. In my pocket." His face was almost bright pink, his lips wet and dark.
Dom had wondered what that was that he'd felt in Brian's pocket before; he leaned down and pulled out a tube and raised an eyebrow.
"While you were in the back room with Vic. I left money; wouldn't want you to think I was shoplifting or anything." Another glimpse of that blinding smile.
"But you did plan this out." He was a little annoyed, a little amused. Pretty much how he often was with Brian.
"Not planned. Hoped."
Dom closed his eyes as Brian's hands roamed over his body, pushing Dom's pants down, the backs of his fingers leaving little tracers of electricity that prickled his skin. "Like I'd say no to your little plan now."
"That was sort of the general idea. As far as I'd, you know, developed an idea."
"I'm glad I can be so predictable. Have to think of a way to surprise you."
"Now who needs to shut up?" Brian kissed him, partly to shut him up, but also because he couldn't stand looking at that gorgeous mouth any longer, moving, but not against his own. Not with his tongue inside it. The press of Dom's dick against his own sent a shiver through his body. Already he felt weak enough as it was, so he pulled Dom over to the bed where he wouldn't have to waste energy trying to keep upright.
"So," Brian said, lips traveling over the blade of Dom's jaw, hands roving over the smooth scalp, "amaze me some more." Not afraid of it, he told himself -- he wasn't, not like Dom thought. This was something that felt right, something that they both needed to know.
It was what Brian expected, and yet not -- it did hurt, but in a good way, not that he could explain that to anyone even if he'd wanted to. He allowed himself to get used to it, letting go enough to almost like it; something about the press of Dom's body along his, the hot breath against the back of his neck, made the knowledge of having Dom inside him, with him, turn it into something pleasurable. Dom was so slow and careful, more than he probably wanted to or needed to be, constantly watching him, making sure everything was okay. To Brian's shock, he felt something like a switch being flipped, sharp and exhilarating and wild and Dom's hand was on his dick, moving in time with his hips, and he was over the edge, the climax not like what he'd experienced before. Some sensations were new, but it was really about the way it felt so different and disorienting, alive and raw and brilliant, blinding. He was ready to collapse, but he knew Dom was almost there so he waited, absorbing it all, testing it inside himself until he could feel Dom's hips jerk, stall, jerk again. Dom was almost silent in orgasm, weak against him, his breath the shallow panting of surprise.
They lay on their sides quietly for a long while, Brian enjoying the weight of Dom's arm slung over his own, the warmth of his skin. Eventually he stretched out as Dom pulled away, rolling over to face him and putting his palm on his chest.
"Worth it?" Dom asked.
"What do you think? I might never walk again." At the look of panic on Dom's face, he added, "In a good way. Like I've been turned into Jell-O."
"What flavor?" Dom rolled over on his side, rubbing his arm. It must still hurt a lot, and Brian felt a twinge of guilt over forgetting how much he had yet to heal. Desire addled your brain, took your attention off other things. You just wanted to grab at everything you could feel, wallow in your selfishness.
"Uhh... grape."
Dom shot him a mildly disgusted look, but reached out and pushed his hair off his damp forehead. Brian had a hard time keeping his eyes open; he drifted in space, weightless and empty. The feeling of Dom's fingers sliding over his skin, twining in his hair, finally relaxed him too much and he slipped into that liquid dark, feeling safe for the first time in weeks.
When he woke up, Dom was gone -- again. He was beginning to think that was Dom's auto-pilot pattern, but it wasn't like he could compare notes with Letty or anything: "Hey, did Dom have sex with you and then leave, like he couldn't stand to be around you?"
He cleaned himself up in the bathroom, noting his reflection in the mirror: still bruised; darker circles under his eyes now from lack of sleep. A hickey on his neck, he observed with a laugh. Definitely a sore ass to go along with all the other injuries. But it was good, like pleasure and pain had become indistinguishable. Experiences, sensations were all combined now, good and bad, but it felt right, just because it was with Dom, and him with Dom. He dressed, went downstairs, took the unfinished beers that they'd left on the hall table and dumped them in the sink. Out the back he spied Dom sitting there on the stairs, drinking something from a large, elaborately shaped bottle. He went outside to sit beside him, reaching for the bottle. Tequila, and obviously very expensive stuff.
"It was Jesse's," Dom said. "Thought I'd finish it off for him. He had this thing for tequila, for some reason. We'd go to Mexico and he'd always come back with all these crazy-ass bottles. He always remembered the names of this maker or that... talked about it the same way he'd go on about an engine."
Brian took a deep drink. "Everyone collects something, I guess. I keep matchbooks, for some reason. Got like this whole history of my life, practically, in the matchbooks around the apartment."
Dominic didn't even look at him, but a phantom smile crossed his face, then disappeared. "He was such a weird kid, you know? Tequila was one of the things he did, but there was all this other shit... like those little figurines for playing games, and then he had this whole box of obscure R&B records that his dad started. Jess would go to used stores and comb through boxes to add to the collection while his dad was..." He sighed hard, a hitch in his breath.
"In prison. He told me."
Dom rubbed at the frown point on his forehead. "He never gave up on his old man even though the guy was a shit bastard."
"At least he had you guys. Someone to call a family." Brian took another pull from the bottle. Yup. Really, really good stuff. He remembered a party they'd had one night, when somehow he and Dom, Letty, Leon, and Jesse had ended up in the kitchen, downing tequila shots, laughing and talking loudly. He'd watched as Dom had licked the salt off Letty's lips, then kissed her for a long time, hypnotized by his mouth, the way he moved his hands through her hair. He'd been brought out of his reverie only by a jolt from Leon's elbow. "I'm talking to you, man," Leon had nearly yelled in his face, and then Brian glanced back at him, certain his fascination with Dom would have been obvious to everyone in the room. They only laughed at his sleepiness. He'd said, lying, "Must be way drunker'n I thought." It was as good a cover as any, one everyone accepted willingly because they were wasted, too.
"I don't know why... why this feels so damn bad. I can't look out there," he nodded in the direction of the street, "without feeling like my guts are twisting up." Dom knew that Brian understood, but it still felt weird to talk to him about things that were this emotional. It wasn't that Brian didn't feel things, Dom knew he did, but sometimes he felt like he was so different from Brian -- not just wearing his heart on his sleeve, but bleeding all over the place while he did it.
Brian gazed at him with that look he got sometimes -- kind of sad, but with a patient sort of understanding. He handed the bottle back to Dom. "You loved him," he said, as if it was the easiest statement to make in the world.
That hit like a shot in the heart. Dom moved his jaw back and forth, trying to stem the tide of feelings that washed over him. All he could do was nod, though. Once Brian got into your head, it was like he could pull out everything about you. Name all the things you felt, everything you were.
"He liked you," Dom said eventually. "Told me you guys had a really good talk when he was showing you the designs for the Supra. Went a long way toward making me think you were worth keeping around. Jess wasn't always that smart about what to do for himself, but he was pretty good at figuring out what was good about other people."
With a mock salute, Brian said, "Nice of him to be my fan."
But Dom couldn't find anything jokey about that; he was overcome by such shame that he wasn't sure he could keep talking to Brian, especially not like having this talk was normal. All these years on the outside and he still felt as if he was trapped behind those prison walls, running his crimes over and over in his mind until he no longer knew what was real and what he'd added on in his imagination. His body might be free, but there were times he wondered if his mind ever could be. Even today in that van, the sensation of confinement and panic, the knowledge that nothing he could do would be the right thing, had overpowered him: he was going to lose every ounce of control he'd had, as sure as day followed night. And now Brian was here, lulling him into forgetting, making him think it could be all right... but it couldn't ever be, even when this was all over. The same story kept playing out again and again: failing everyone, making all the wrong decisions while messing with their lives. Being the leader no one should follow.
"I get the impression," Brian said, "that you're back to beating yourself up for all of this. That's why the leaving after we... afterwards, and the drinking and brooding."
Dom rolled his eyes. "Now you're my shrink, too?"
"Well, you really need professional help, but I can do the part in a pinch." He grinned at Dom, leaving him dazed, as always. The way Brian made what should be annoying and grating into something friendly and charming completely astonished him.
"I'm not the amazing guy you want to believe I am. Keep telling you that. I'm the guy who moves in a world with psychos like Tony in it... the guy whose decisions get his friends killed and his sister kidnapped."
"Look," Brian said, his voice harsh. "Jesse made his own decisions. I warned him and he could have stopped before that shit got out of hand. You are not responsible for that. Maybe your history with Tran made things worse, who the hell knows. But no one, not even God, knows the answer to that, you know? Both Jess and Johnny made their choices."
"I know. But the fact is everyone's connected to me. Their lives would have been... would have been different if it hadn't been for me. It's all down to me." He took a long pull from the tequila, its sweet burn traveling down into his gut. He wished he could explain to Brian, make him understand what it was like to live with this burden. But he wasn't sure he could explain to someone who'd never screwed up that badly, who'd never done time. Who didn't know what it was like to be unable to come out into the light. "I want to believe that there's something still inside me, the guy I was before my dad died. That I'm not what I made myself into to get through Lompoc. But I don't think he exists anymore. It's like I'm still back there, still... paying for something that I can never really pay up all the way."
Brian watched him with those freaky blue eyes, listened the way he always listened to Dom -- one hundred percent attention, homed in on every word, each gesture. Brian had a gift for listening, he thought, an ability to hear people, even if, like him, they didn't deserve that.
"That's why you're putting aside money for Linder. And that's why you're focused on getting Mia back and giving Gregory to the cops. A bad guy would walk away from all those things. Throw up his hands and say there's nothing he could do. There's hope for you yet, you know."
"Doesn't make amends. Nothing can." He paused, looked up at the sky, rubbing his hand over his mouth. "I wonder sometimes if I'll ever stop being inside."
"That's what motivated all this crime shit, that's all. So what? Doesn't mean that's all you are, and no matter how much you fight with me about this, I'm not buying it. I know better. People can fucking rise above. I did."
Dom kept his gaze up at the sky, watching the stars and half-moon above them. "It's not just that. I'm supposed to be thinking about my sister. I'm supposed to be dealing with Vince, and Jesse, and everything else. But what am I doing instead? I can't stop looking at you. Not exactly the time for fucking up or fucking around." He took another drink. "When Letty didn't want to talk to me, I was... relieved. What the hell does that say about me? I don't know what decisions to make anymore. Seems like every one I make is wrong. Got no idea what right is and the scary fucking thing is that I'm not convinced I ever did. But I was arrogant enough to think so."
"I get that," Brian responded sadly.
"All this time I thought I knew who I was, what I was... till you came along and then I didn't know anymore. Everything's wrong. All going in the wrong direction." He swallowed hard, staring down at the step. "Brian, I'm lost."
Dom didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't the way Brian grabbed him hard by the back of the neck, yanking him toward him, pressing his forehead to Dom's. "No, you're not. Not with me here." It didn't matter to Dom that they were outside, and Brian was kissing him roughly. When he pulled away, he slid his fingers along Brian's knee, then got up and went into the house.
Brian sat still, not even angry or disappointed this time. It was Dom's way of keeping control, pretending that he wasn't in too deep. In a weird way it made Brian feel better about all the crazy shit Dom did, understanding that he had to keep attempting to distance himself -- afraid of feeling too much and losing what little restraint he still held on to. Self-contained, yeah, Dom had always been that. But able to keep those big emotions in check, not so much. Dom thought it was his great failing; hell, until just this afternoon, Brian thought it was, too. But what Dom couldn't see under all that guilt was that those emotions also gave him a strength not many people had. Dom could handle larger-than-life situations -- didn't matter whether it was a hijacking gone wrong, or verbally fighting with a psycho drug lord. His intensity got him through it.
Of course, Dom didn't think that was worth much, especially not in the face of what had happened in the past few days. But the events allowed Brian to see a truth in Dom that he was pretty sure no one else had seen: underneath all that charisma and presence, the gravity that pulled people in, there was just a guy filled with uncertainty about himself, mired in his mistakes, unable to really walk out of Lompoc. When he no longer had a real prison to hold him, he'd built one of his own. He played a good game with his pretenses: king of the street racers, leader of the team, the bad-ass everyone wanted to follow. But that's all it was -- a game.
Taking a gulp from the bottle, Brian looked up at the sky. The winds had blown a little bit of the smog clear, and he could see some of the constellations, the ones he recognized anyway, and pick out which of the brightest stars were really planets. This was a city of stars, the earthbound kind. Sometimes you forgot the beauty of the real ones. Dom didn't even get that he was like them: glittering, shining, drawing in others because they wanted him to take them somewhere, be pulled into his orbit. Enthralled. He was more compelling than any phony star in this town, and brighter than the real ones up there in the sky, yet Brian couldn't seem to make him believe in that.
The ringing of Dom's new cell phone startled Brian out of his thoughts. He turned and saw Dom through the kitchen window, staring at the phone as if he had no idea what to do with it. When he finally picked it up, his body immediately tensed. "Mia, baby--" he began but stopped, listening. "I'm going to take care of it. I won't let you down again." He pulled the phone away from his ear and squeezed his eyes shut.
Brian wanted to go to him, try to offer some comfort, but that wasn't what Dom needed now. For a while he stayed outside, considering what to do, staring up at that sky full of stars. Then he reached into his pocket.
He went into the house where Dom paced restlessly, standing in front of him to make him stop. Brian tugged on his waistband. "How's your wrist?" he asked conversationally.
"My... why?" Dom still had that furrow between his brows, and the frown that always went with it.
"How is it?"
"I don't know. Don't feel anything. Haven't thought about it for a while."
Brian tossed him keys. "Think it can take shifting?"
"What is this?" Dom gave him that withering, skeptical look. At least this time it wasn't attached to a shotgun muzzle being shoved in his face by Vince.
"Let's go for a drive."
"Brian, I can't--" but Brian was already out the door. He jumped into the Supra and revved the engine as Dom came out around the back of the house. Then he peeled out, fully expecting Dom to follow. About 45 seconds later, he saw the Mazda's headlights behind him. The streets were emptying out by this hour and he headed for the freeway as fast as he could, Dom coming up close behind, then exploding alongside as they got closer to the entrance. If they got pulled over they were going to be in such deep, deep shit; this would fuck everything up, but he couldn't think of another way to get Dom back from this self-loathing. When they hit the onramp to the 101 they took it two abreast, jockeying for position as they burst onto the freeway. North and then west and then north some more, back and forth in the nearly wide open lanes, around the few cars they encountered. The roof was open, his hair blowing back and the night air pouring over him. On an exchange they pulled two abreast again and he glanced over at Dom, who turned briefly to look at him, his face relaxed now, almost smiling. For a second, Brian felt that heart-stopping panic again; it was too much like in the Charger and the dread made him slow down, but then Dom pulled ahead and shot forward, lapping him so bad that it took Brian at least five miles to catch up. They kept going on and on, up the steep hills and down, weaving through any traffic they encountered and on into Oxnard, then to Ventura. He could see the lights out on the water, the half-moon shining bright above it all. On the hill above the freeway he spotted a Denny's sign; it seemed as good a place as any to stop, especially since he was suddenly very aware that he was starving. He zipped in front of the only other car nearby and arced around in front of Dom, tapped the brakes a couple times, then sped over to the exit, up the hill, and into the parking lot. Dom came in behind him, tires squealing. Brian waited for him as he got out of the car, slower than usual. But very nearly smiling.
Brian could not stop grinning; he laughed when Dom shook his head. "You are a really bad influence on me, cop."
"Was that fun, or what?"
"It was good. Really good."
"How's your arm? That was a loooong drive."
"Hurts like a sonofabitch, but who cares?"
They were at the back of the building so no one could see them, plus there were only two cars in the parking lot, anyway. Brian curved a palm along the back of his head, pulling him into a fierce, rough kiss. "Never again, Dom. Don't ever shut me out like that. I will never lie to you again, I swear it, but don't you ever shut me out again."
Dom pulled away and made one of those strange little hand gestures he often did, pointed a finger a couple of times in Brian's direction, and walked into the restaurant.
On the way back they drove a lot more sensibly. Dom was content to tail Brian for a while, let his aching arm rest, as much as he could, anyway, given the circumstances. They'd known each other only a short while, really, and known the real selves for even less time, but already Brian knew how to bring him out of his moods. Knew how to make him smile, pull him together. For someone who'd been raised pretty much on his own, Brian seemed pretty capable at connecting to people.
It spooked Dom. Surrounding himself with people who knew him well enough to call him family was all right, but he'd been very deliberate in how he chose them. No one in the team, though, was this penetrating; maybe no one else felt like Dom belonged to them quite as much, either. Vince had been so pissed off about Brian being pulled in to their group, but it wasn't because he felt Dom was somehow theirs alone. He'd taken their devotion, their sense of family, for granted all these years, then closed himself off after prison, never really thinking about what it would feel like for them. And then... he just let Brian in, no questions asked. Welcomed him as part of the family, none of the cautious steps to maintain distance, to keep control. But it probably wouldn't have even mattered; when a guy like Brian decided to worm his way into your life, too bad. You could make a vain attempt at fighting it off, convincing yourself you weren't suckered in by the person, but when you were caught, you were caught.
He was fooling himself if he thought that when this was over, he could cut Brian out. Not someone who knew him this well already.
He'd sat across the table from Brian in the Denny's, watching him with a fascination that he couldn't remember feeling since he'd first discovered girls. It was a sensation he could only identify as being sucked into something, pulled down -- like an undertow, a whirlwind, something with force and energy and motion. No fighting it, either.
Brian had tucked into a breakfast so big Dom thought his gut would explode, yet somehow he'd managed to down the whole thing except for one small corner of toast. They'd gone through at least a pot of coffee, too, while Dom talked about the phone call from Mia. He told Brian more about his sister, where she fit into all this shit with the hijackings, just so he'd understand how hard Dom had wanted to keep her out of it. He found it hard to choose the words, to admit how fearfully she'd said his name when he answered the call, how scared she sounded in the few short sentences she'd been allowed. But brief as it was, at least he'd known she was all right. They hadn't hurt her, she'd insisted. All Dom could think of then was "yet."
Brian had listened while he ate, then fixed Dom with a look and reminded him, "You've gone the distance for her. Just a couple more steps and we're at the finish line." Dom had nodded, staring out the window. Done. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to finish this. It would always be with him, just like prison. He'd look at Mia's face and know what pain he was capable of inflicting.
They were nearly to the Santa Monica exit when his phone rang. The same voice that had threatened him that first night in the hospital was on the line, a heavier accent than Tony's by far, and he didn't even wait for Dom to say anything. Short and to the point, the man gave him instructions on where to go and when. Way out in the hills; all the better for them to make a good getaway.
He closed the phone and moved up into the lane next to Brian, held the phone up. Brian looked at him and Dom shouted over, "Game on."
Too many things still puzzled and annoyed Carl Tanner when it came to Toretto and O'Conner. He'd watched them in the van during the briefing, and then the way they interacted throughout the setup, as if they had some private communication thing going on: little twitches of the head, an eyebrow raised, a tap on the arm. The farce of this relationship had tipped over into something else entirely, something he had no real ability to process. It was more than just going native, more than just a rookie UC cop being hypnotized by his mark. But he wasn't sure he wanted to figure out what it really might be.
The two had been up all night, wired on how much coffee Tanner couldn't begin to guess. Brian had confessed, in fact, to a little racing adventure, though he insisted it hadn't been anything more than just "driving real fast up the 101."
"Do you have any idea how much trouble you could make for everyone if you'd been caught?" Tanner had snapped at him, and Brian just ducked his head, smiling sheepishly. He insisted such stupidity had more to do with the mood Toretto had been in; despondent and unpredictable, O'Conner said, in need of something to get his adrenaline up. Maybe that was what Brian wanted to call it; Tanner thought it was more acting like a pair of teenagers whose parents had left town.
Along with the FBI team that Bilkins had sent over, Tanner and the LAPD tactical team had walked them through the plan. Every once in a while, Tanner would stop to glare at Brian just for the hell of it. The kid just didn't seem to want to get it through his head that this was as serious as a heart attack, that him and Toretto playing buddy cops was not going to get the sister back alive.
Wires were in place, tracking devices, too. Toretto had declined a vest, but Brian wore a loose, baggy button-front shirt to hide the vest he wore over his T-shirt. Tanner didn't want either of them out there without something to protect themselves, but Toretto insisted the Armenian would notice if he wore one; if Brian stayed back by the car, acting more like the hired help, his vest wouldn't be as noticeable. They would wait for the drop to move in, and hopefully no one in Tony's posse would have a trigger finger. Toretto was jumpy about the whole setup, concerned they wouldn't wait until he had Mia away from the site before they pounced. No faith in any cop except Brian, basically.
They wanted Gregory alive, something Tanner made very clear to both of them. When you got down to it, he and Toretto were worried about the same thing, just that they had very different reasons.... the guy was scared of losing his sister and not getting Gregory, worried about escaping this thing in one piece. Very strange to feel sympathetic to Toretto. No cop ever really got used to operations like this, but the first one was always the worst -- and Toretto didn't have the luxury of experience or training. He'd been impressed with how the guy had handled himself at Gregory's, the tough talk and casualness in the face of a psycho playing mind-fuck with him. But that didn't convince Tanner that he was ready to do this, not at all.
Tanner took Brian to check the equipment out, though Dom was pretty sure it was mostly to get him away to clear his head. Dom sat at the door of the van, watching them. Whatever Tanner had figured out about their relationship, it was bugging the shit out of him, that much was obvious. The more time he'd spent around Tanner and Brian together, the more aware he was that Tanner saw him as a protégé, someone he'd had higher expectations for. In a lot of ways Tanner reminded Dom of his dad. And he was a hell of a lot smarter than Brian gave him credit for.
Dom kept his eye on Brian as he nodded and walked away from Tanner, returning to the van. After he climbed in, he sat on the bench seat, rubbing his palms over his knees.
"You're sure about the vest?" Brian asked.
"Yeah."
Brian seemed fixed on everyone else moving around, pointedly not looking at Dom. This place off the highway they were hidden away in reminded him of the area around that motel they'd stayed at the first few days. Weird how it seemed like a lifetime ago now.
After a few minutes of silence, Brian reached under his shirt, took out the Glock that was tucked into the waistband of his jeans, and slid it toward Dom. "For protection." Dom picked it up, looked it over, and then slid the gun back to Brian, carefully watching to see if anyone noticed.
"I appreciate the gesture. But no, thanks."
"Dom..."
"Ain't worth it. If I have it, I'll want to use it. I've pictured myself blowing Tony's head off way too many times in the past few days. Hell to pay for you if I did."
Brian shook his head, but Dom put his hand up.
"You're this close to getting what you want back. This goes right, you're in. Don't fuck it up by giving the ex-con the gun."
"If anything happens out there, you're totally helpless."
"Nothing'll happen with you on my back."
Brian smiled and took the gun. Dom touched the back of his knuckles to Brian's cheekbone, just for a warm second. A part of him wondered if this would be the last time he'd ever touch Brian this way.
"You nervous?"
"Scared shitless."
"The great Toretto, scaredy cat?"
Dom wanted to ask what he was thinking, whether he was still in this for Mia or not -- or if this was about being a cop now, about the glory. He wasn't convinced Brian was one hundred percent, either. After the phone call, they'd gone back to the house. Dom had taken Brian downstairs to the cellar, pulling out a large, old canister above the washing machine that had been used to store soap. He dug around in the powder and pulled up a plastic bag filled with rubber-banded bills.
Brian had whistled. "Holy shit."
"Cash on delivery."
"Don't know that I've ever seen that much cash in one place."
"Won't get to see it for long."
Something in Brian had quieted then, grown distant even though it still felt like they were close. They'd killed some more time counting everything out, double checking before they were due to hook up with Tanner and the teams. All the while, Dom had wondered if maybe Brian finally really saw him for what he was: a worthless criminal. It was so hard to get a handle on what Brian truly thought. Even when Dom believed he might know, he didn't -- because here Brian was, still trying to protect him, worried that there was still more he could do.
They both turned their heads when they heard footsteps crunching through gravel. Tanner leaned on the door. "You about ready to saddle up?"
Brian tossed his car keys in the air. "Locked and loaded."
"Let's do this." He smacked the edge of the door a couple of times, and Dom glanced at him as they went to the car. Something in Tanner's face told Dom he wasn't sure they were going to make it, either. He hoped to prove everyone wrong, including himself.
At the dirt path to the cabin, they pulled in and drove carefully up the bumpy drive. It didn't look like the kind of place Tony would keep, so Dom wondered where he'd found it. Maybe there was some kind of guidebook for criminals that listed great spots for deals. He'd found the place near Thermal where they'd hidden the Hondas because of information Berto had provided. Could be they all just swapped locations around like they were talking about the hot new club or restaurant.
They circled around and parked the car nose out. Once the cavalry came running, he wanted to make the fastest exit possible. Dom hoped his arm would be strong enough to shift after that stupid little jaunt they'd taken last night. Or this morning, really. Only a few hours and the world was upended again.
Brian leaned casually against the driver's side door as Dom paced around the drive. You'd be hard pressed to tell that Brian felt anything at all, yet Dom got the sensation of being totally helpless out here in the open, in the freaking countryside, waiting for some psychotic fuck who'd just as soon kill you as look at you.
No matter how bad things got since his father's death and leaving Lompoc, at least Dom had been in charge, set the rules. Now he was stuck reacting, waiting, allowing himself to be someone else's pawn. In some ways it was worse for him than the crash a few days ago. That was physical pain, something he could deal with. So many years spent taking care of people, and now he could barely take care of himself. Letty would have fixed him with that squint and told him he was fucking with people's lives just as much as Tony was. Vince would have argued with him not to do this and risk everything, and Jesse... Jess would have provided some kind of cracked explanation for why this would never work. Leon would maintain, as he always did. The only one who'd tell him he was doing the right thing was Brian.
The sun was beating down hard here, hot wind blowing over them. Brian squinted into the glare, scanning in all directions. Waiting had never been Dom's strong suit, and he was pretty sure from watching Brian that it wasn't his, either. Though Brian pretended it didn't matter, Dom hoped that killing Tran hadn't left him too shaky or twitchy about doing what might have to be done.
The sound of an engine carried through the trees, then two, then tires crunching grit and rocks. He went over to stand behind his car, but not close to Brian. Dom wanted to make sure they kept their eyes only on himself. The first SUV pulled up near the cabin; the other closer to him. Tony's hired guns all got out first, making sure he could see their weapons. Pathetic.
Tony got out of the vehicle closest to Dominic, smiling yet remaining a few paces back, just to be on the safe side. He wasn't expecting anything, but the boy could be very unpredictable -- and the way he was acting over his sister, it was hard to gauge what might happen.
"You brought your mechanic!" he said. Might as well start out on a positive note.
Dominic cocked his head. "More importantly, I brought the money."
Tony tapped his hand against his thigh. He knew Dominic couldn't see where his gaze fell with his sunglasses on, but the tension in him was obvious as he turned slightly toward the blond. Protective stance, really, that's what it was. He offered, "I'm still willing to consider other options, you know. You let your mechanic come work for me, and... we can call the whole thing even. Mia for... Brian, wasn't it?"
"Work for you?" This wasn't as fun as his usual sparring with Dominic. Something really was going on with him and this new crew member; he'd always been patriarchal, but this was distinguished by something far more... dangerous, Tony thought: the way his posture changed, the anger radiating off him like a burn. Everything about him was different now. Tony usually didn't like different.
"Oh. You know what I mean." He made a little "easy come, easy go" gesture.
"Yeah, that's the problem. I do. Told you already, he's off the menu."
Sighing heavily, Tony said, "You can't possibly be that attached to him. What if I said that I'm not interested in the money? That the only thing I'm interested in is him... or maybe you?"
Dominic hesitated, and Tony realized in the silence it was time to back off. His high was at the edge of wearing off and this was growing less fun by the minute; a sharp, tiny pain had started up just behind his eyes. Too much sunshine, not enough coke. In the SUV, the girl made dissatisfied noises, growing restless, and that might make Team Toretto just a little bit too jumpy. People with guns shouldn't be jumpy.
"Then I'd say you got a personality transplant. Since when did a piece of ass matter more to you than money?"
Lips drawn tight, Tony took his glasses off and squinted at Dom. "It's just business, Dominic. You've taken all this too seriously from the start."
After a long, heated glare, Dom said, "My bad." Well, he did admire the young man's style.
"Oh, all right. Be in a mood. Bring the money over here."
Dom opened the trunk and reached for the small gear bag, relieved that Tony wasn't going to push it. He noticed the way Brian watched him: cautious, tenser by the second, the look on his face almost saying "stay back." But Dom went ahead, brought the bag over to Tony, and shoved it into his hands. "Count it if you want."
"Oh, no, no, I have faith in you, as I keep saying," Tony said, his sunglasses between his teeth so that everything came out with a lisp. He looked it over, then waved a finger. "Even Steven."
Mia got out of the truck, hugging her arms around herself, staring sadly at Dom. It was make or break right now, Dom could feel it -- unsure whether Tony would really let her go or kill them all just for grins. He reached out and took her gently by the shoulder, walking her quickly to the car. She trembled under his hand. "It's okay, baby. We're almost there. Just stay frosty." She wouldn't even look at him, but he couldn't blame her. Probably once they were free and clear she'd kick his balls up into his belly.
As he put her into the passenger side he heard the crunching tires of the tactical vans, saw the SWAT guys coming through the trees. Shit. This was happening faster than he expected. Way, way too fast. Brian gestured at him, shouting "Go! Get her out of here." But then it was too late.
The sensible thing for Tony and his guys would have been to give up, but of course they had to put up a fight. Dom only heard the gunfire that erupted around him because he was so focused on pulling Mia behind the van; whatever else was going on, he couldn't see it. He crouched around her protectively as she tried to say something, but her words were lost in all the noise. When he looked up he could see that Brian had pulled off the outer shirt so his LAPD-labeled vest showed, and he was now firing over the Mazda, at what Dom couldn't quite see. Events moved in slow motion. He looked to his left through the open door of the van, noticing that there was a shotgun in the rack. Sliding up the side, he reached in and grabbed it just as he saw Tony make a run for the cabin. Without even thinking about what he was doing, Dom made a run for Tony, just hoping they weren't going to forget who he was and shoot the bald guy running around without any insignias. Mia shouted his name under the gunfire. This all sounded much too familiar.
This time, at least, it was Tony's guys going down, not one of his friends. Tony was almost at the cabin stairs when Dom knocked him down from behind with a hard blow from the butt. He hefted the shotgun up to grab it by the forestock, cocked it, and pointed it at Tony's head. "Don't even think about it."
Rubbing his hand over the back of his head, Tony muttered under his panting breaths, "Cop. You're a fucking cop."
"Not even close. But you fucked with my family, Tony. That ain't just business." Dom's arm shook from the weight of the gun. He could do it: blow Tony's head off right now, do everyone a favor. Even though Tanner wanted him for trial, he wouldn't have to worry about him getting off on a technicality. The gunfire was dying down, but no one would notice at first, not in all this mess.
Except that Brian would know, somehow. And he would be disappointed. He heard a voice behind him then, a stranger. One of the FBI guys, his weapon fixed on Tony. "It's okay, Mr. Toretto. We got it." He put a gloved hand gently on the barrel, pushing it down. "Stand down, we got him." This was a guy who clearly knew how to talk to upset people with guns; Dom lowered the shotgun as he was asked. "Here, I'll take that." Even though his face was partly covered, Dom could see in his eyes that the guy was aware of just why Dom shouldn't have a shotgun. A little friendly understanding in the middle of a shootout was not what he'd expected from the LAPD.
It didn't take long for superior firepower to knock down a few of Tony's point men, and Brian got off a couple of hits himself. The ones who'd been hit were already being dragged back to the two medic trucks. It took them a while to get the message that they were on the losing side, but it finally sunk in when enough of them got hurt.
Brian was busy moving in on one of Gregory's men when he'd seen Dom run past the truck, carrying a shotgun. There was nothing Brian could do to back Dom up or protect Mia, since he was busy shooting it out with one of the thugs. When the guy in front of him laid down his gun and hit the dirt, Brian whipped his cuffs off the belt and dug his knee into the guy's back, yanking his arms hard behind him. People who'd never done this kind of thing had no idea how easy it was to rough up a suspect. The level of fear was so intense it turned into a kind of rage; people shot at you, tried to kill you, and the normal reaction to such a situation was not one of restraint.
That was what worried him most about Dom -- seeing him with the shotgun, knowing how easy it was to lose control even for a pro. He'd refused the handgun because of what he was afraid of doing, but now that he'd let himself loose on Tony... Brian understood what it was like, how easily you could step over the line, but no one else would get that. They would only see the brutal ex-con in him coming out, if he went that far. Fortunately, though, one of the SWAT guys appeared to have a handle on it; he took the gun out of Dom's hands and was talking him down, it looked like.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dom go back over, pull Mia up from behind the van, and gently smooth his hands over her hair. He'd held her like that before, but it had been in joy; now as he put his arms around her, squeezing tight, she didn't return the affection. The guy underneath Brian thrashed around, so Brian drove his knee harder into his back to quiet him down. On his other side, a team had surrounded Gregory, manhandling him into one of the trucks. Overhead the police chopper circled around out of range; somewhere in the distance he could hear Tanner bark out commands. His heart still pounded hard in his chest; even the raid on the Trans hadn't been quite this exhilarating. Maybe not as exciting as jumping on a moving semi truck with a 12-gauge blasting at you, but still pretty damn high on the intense-o-meter.
As Brian hauled the guy up so he could slip the cuffs over the SUV's door handle, he found himself knocked backwards by a blow to his midsection, stumbling to keep his footing. He heard a sound -- a tiny, sharp crack -- and then noticed that the guy had turned around. There was a gun in his hand.
Heat bloomed along his side, just above his hip. Brian touched his hand to his abdomen, just under the bottom edge of his vest. When he pulled it away, slick red blood covered his fingers. "Oh, shit," he said, and his knees went out from under him.
As he hit the ground he saw a team swarm over the guy who'd shot him. It was like being stuck in a weird dream, watching it all sideways, a kind of white haze surrounding everything. People running, shouting, but he couldn't follow the pictures, like a fuzzy, stuttering tape. And then there was Dom, running toward him, Mia in tow. He tried to say something to Dom, but he couldn't tell if he was getting any sound out.
Dom crouched over Brian, trying to figure out what had happened. He'd seen Brian go down, heard what sounded like a single shot in the quiet. At first he couldn't tell what was wrong, but as he pushed the vest up, the blood seeping through the light blue t-shirt became obvious. "Oh god, Brian. Oh, Jesus."
"Only a flesh wound," Brian said with a little laugh, but that made him cough. His face betrayed his pain.
"My ass." He pulled Brian up, resting his head on his thigh. "It's okay, baby. Don't move."
Again Brian laughed. He looked up at Dom with those spooky blue eyes. "Did you just call me baby?"
He made a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "I'm Italian, I call everyone baby. Don't let it go to your head."
Raising his hand weakly, Brian slapped at Dom's arm. "Faggot." Dom took his hand, wrapped his fingers around it, and pulled it to his chest. Brian's eyes almost rolled back in his head. Dom's mouth was dry; he tried to swallow but his throat stuck.
"Yeah. That's me." Brian looked like he was fading in and out already. A nine at close range like that... he had to be bleeding badly out the back, assuming the bullet went all the way through. But he didn't want to move him to check. Christ, he wondered angrily, where the fuck were the medics? Why weren't they calling them back? "Be quiet, don't talk."
He looked up at Mia. Her face told him of her confusion and fear; all of this had to remind her painfully of what happened with Jesse. It would have been bad enough as it was, but to hear him call Brian pet names... foolish move. He wasn't careful enough when he got emotional.
"Wasn't... paying attention. Sorry. Screwed up again."
"I mean it, shut up." Dom's hand was bloody, but he smoothed it across Brian's forehead anyway, and squeezed his clammy hand.
"You keep telling me that."
"Well, you keep calling me dumbass. So we're even."
"It's cold." Brian's lips were turning almost white.
"You're in shock. You need to stop talking," he said through clenched teeth, trying to keep it together, using every bit of strength he had not to lose it completely. Brian needed him to keep it together.
Mia was screaming at the cops about the ambulance. God bless his sister, even at her most fragile, she was still the kind of person who took no shit. She dropped to her knees, pressing her palms down on the entrance wound. Dom was abruptly aware of the fact that all of this had taken only a few seconds. He pushed his hand underneath Brian's back, as she showed him. When he heard Tanner behind him, he raised his head, glaring.
The sergeant was shouting into his walkie-talkie. "We don't have time for those medics to come back. Get that chopper down here now."
Mia pressed her forehead to his shoulder, holding on to Brian, until
the chopper landed. She never took her hand from his, even when they carried
Brian away.
End Part 6
5/25/05
My gorgeous cover art by M'lyn. Please do not take or distribute in any way.