Some guys they just give up living
And start dying little by little, piece by piece
Some guys come home from work and wash up
And go racin' in the street
Brian hauled himself out of bed, shuffling to the kitchen to flip the switch for the coffee pot before making for the shower. Some days it took more strength than he believed he had just to walk from room to room. He spent more time showering because of the wound, still dealing with the bandage and the cleaning. They'd told him to keep it moist, but not too moist, so he wouldn't have such a bad scar, but Brian had stopped caring about that after a few days. He hated the detail crap, so he'd been ridiculously happy the day they told him it was okay to shower and he wasn't going to gripe about the grunt work. It was good to make progress, even if that progress wasn't exactly gigantic.
After he'd showered, Brian poured some coffee and opened the curtains, staring out at the back yard. The landlord kept a nice garden. When Brian was on late shift, he'd often find himself watching the sun go down just before heading into work, wondering what Dom was seeing in his part of the world, whether they watched the same sun or moon. Wondered, too, if Dom ever thought of him and remembered sitting out on the back porch, looking at the sky and their city of stars.
Hard to believe how much time had passed since they'd looked at the same sky. Though Brian was back in his world, a new home at the precinct even if it was just a desk job, he didn't always feel a part of it anymore. There was something missing inside, a piece still left behind in Dom's house, and time wasn't making him feel any closer to whole.
They had put Brian on a desk job after a perfunctory hearing that Tanner had clearly done some campaigning for. Everyone believed that letting Dom go had been part of the overall plan, so they shunted Brian off to a different precinct, not really a punishment so much as a way to ignore him till he was better and returned to being useful. The place had not been especially welcoming, but he had found a few people who weren't completely Arctic. The story had gotten out, as usual in fragments that sometimes bore a faint resemblance to reality and other times were nearly fictional, but that was the nature of cop talk. You stuck together for each other most times, but there was always someone who had to take the fall for the stuff that went bad.
Once, Brian had been filing reports and heard one of the few guys who was nice to him, Dan, talking to the duty sergeant, who made it clear that he would never be happy with Brian's presence. The sergeant had made a crack about letting a petty criminal ex-con go, saying that it proved what kind of a cop Brian was if he was willing to do that. It was quiet for a time as Brian had just waited, wondering whether Dan was nodding at the sergeant's wisdom, and then Dan said, "You know how the kid got that gunshot wound? Taking down the Armenian and trying to get the petty criminal's sister back from a kidnapping. I bet whoever told you about it left that part of the story off, though."
There'd been more silence, then the sergeant had said sourly, "I didn't know that."
"He's good police. A couple of youthful mistakes on your first undercover doesn't change that. You might want to consider cutting him some slack."
Things hadn't exactly warmed up after that, but Brian had definitely been given a little more space. All these years alone, though, hadn't prepared him for feeling quite this alone. There were no friends or acquaintances at work to talk to, not really, not the way there had been in his rookie days; there was no one at home; and he couldn't do most of the things he used to enjoy like surfing or racing. He'd told Dom once that his life had seemed decent until he'd met the Torettos, but all that had done was point up just how bad it felt to really be on your own, the way he was now. The only company he kept was David, the personal trainer who was helping him get back to normal. They had a few hours together every other day, something Brian had found himself looking forward to more than he could have expected.
After work he went to the gym, connecting with David in the weight room to work through their routine. David always kept up a steady stream of low-level chatter, offering encouragements amid the general talk. He was fascinated by Brian's police work, every bit as much as Brian was fascinated by David's studies for a degree in sports medicine. But he was unhappy that Brian wasn't making the kind of progress David thought he should be -- and this was turning out to be one of those days when there was a "you have to want to get better to get better" lecture attached to all the help. By the time they hit the Jacuzzi, David was watching him with purse-lipped irritation. Brian tried to ignore him until he finally cracked and asked, "What?" with more than a little exasperation.
"You're wimping out on me, is all." He pushed his long dreads back off his sweaty forehead. Sometimes the color of David's skin reminded Brian way too much of Dom's.
Spreading his hands wide, Brian said, "I just have pain." Some days, his side hurt enough to shock him into remembering everything that happened; by favoring it, though, other parts of his body were taking a hit.
"Mm-hm." David slid next to him, pressing his hand flat against Brian's rib cage.
Brian edged away. "Hey." Which was stupid, because it wasn't like anyone would think they were a couple of faggots frolicking in the hot tub, but it still freaked him out.
"Oh, spare me. I'm trying to get a sense of where you're tight. And I don't mean in that way. I got more dates than I can handle and you're so not my type."
Brian stared at him.
"Don't even try to tell me that you didn't know."
"I... I never thought about it. Before. I mean."
David raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. Brian had named that his "Oh, please" look, because every time he thought Brian made excuses for poor performance, he gave him that face.
"No, really, I never did. I don't... worry about shit like that anymore."
David moved to the other side of the tub, stretching his arms out and leaning back. "Anymore?"
Even with as much time as they'd spent together, Brian still had a hard time completely trusting David. Of course, that made no real sense -- within the same amount of time, Brian had had no trouble putting his faith in Dom despite knowing his history. You didn't have to be a genius to realize that had changed him, made him more mistrustful. Trust and belief had come to mean survival for both him and Dom at the time, but it was too fragile and easily destroyed.
Maybe now was the time to put the bad shit to rest, learn how to open up again. "I used to think that... I mean, it wasn't like I thought about other guys, or fa-- gay guys, or anything. I didn't much care one way or another what people did. But things changed this summer. I met someone who made me sort of... rethink everything."
"Everything being what?"
"Like, how people are wired. Who you find attractive."
David laughed loudly, and not entirely without cruelty. "What you really mean is who you fuck."
Okay, that, too. Brian ducked his head in embarrassment. "I guess so."
David looked at him skeptically. "You're actually telling me that a few months ago, you were boinking a guy."
"Well, yeah. Among other things. It's a long story, but that's how I got this." He put his hand over his side.
"He's the one who shot you?" David nearly shouted.
"No, no. It was on a job... Look, really, it's a long story with a crappy ending." David only stared at him. Brian gave in and started on the whole thing, trying to keep his tale unemotional. That didn't work for long. By the time they got out of the Jacuzzi, showered and changed, he had finished. At the juice bar -- David forced him to drink grassy-tasting things every chance he got, though if left to his own devices Brian always chose the fruity drinks -- he waited for David to say something, anything. All he got was a lot of throat-clearing.
After a while he focused on Brian and asked, "So, let me see if I got this right. You're all worried now that you're queer because you had this torrid affair with some crazy-ass hot-rod criminal."
"Not worried, no. I figure that horse is pretty much out of the barn."
David snorted. "Trust me when I say you are not exactly going to get a big party welcoming you into the sisterhood. Lots of guys have experimented. Way more than will ever admit it. Don't always mean what you think it means."
"Yeah, I'm a lot less surprised by that these days. But I don't think many people are still gonna be down with that excuse."
"That's not the trouble. The people's reaction card is a big one to play, but in your case, that's not it. The big trouble here is you're not over him. And you believe he's over you."
Brian shrugged and finished off his juice. While it was nice being able to talk about this at last to someone who wasn't going to pass judgment on him, it was also draining and he was feeling the familiar hitch in his side that he got when he overworked. The tension of reliving so much emotional shit was as much work as his routine.
David patted his shoulder in a very guy-like way. "You're so dim sometimes I can hardly believe you managed to make it to adulthood."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Think about it. You said earlier that it would have been hard to be with a guy in your line of work, but you were willing to risk it. You think he was more scared than you were? Like he wasn't going to lose just as much? Uh-uh. Whatever he's doing, it's because of something else." He made a helpless gesture with his hand. "Look. You decide this is who you are and it's not a passing fancy, let me know. Because I could take you some places you might not get out of alive." He cocked a finger at Brian. "I'll see you Friday, okay?"
Brian nodded. It hadn't occurred to him that spilling his guts would result in such a response. He didn't know exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn't having his own stupidity pointed out to him. On the other hand, he wasn't so sure David wasn't right: that something besides fear of being called a faggot was behind Dominic walking away.
Still, it didn't matter. It was all in the past. Maybe now that he'd gotten it off his chest, he could do a better job of moving on, of getting his shit together. Life was lonelier now, but it wasn't something he couldn't deal with. Like he'd told Dom once before: you suck it up and get on with it. Sitting around thinking about how things could have been didn't make them happen.
Even after weeks of 12-hour days with barely any weekend time off, Dom still hadn't caught up on the backlog of work that had awaited him once he'd gotten Mia home. Yet as exhausted as he was, keeping his mind occupied made him grateful for the work. He'd never been one to dwell in the past, but it was all too easy to find himself recalling those few weeks together with Brian, running through all the could haves, would haves, and should haves.
Though Dom had confidence that he'd done the right thing -- and in his limited contact with Tony, he knew he had -- it still left him with more pain than he'd known for a very long time.
Eventually Vince had moved back to his own place, though it took him a lot longer to get back to work. More often than not he hung out at Dom's garage, helping the best he could, but he was unfocused and tired easily. Where he used to be hungover and lazy most of the time, now Vince was... well, just different. Dom could never put his finger on it: if you asked him, sometimes he might say it was sad, other times Dom might say it was kind of accepting, as if Vince's old anger didn't fuel him anymore. He had more control of his temper and seemed to have an attitude that said, "Don't sweat the small stuff." Though it was an improvement, sometimes Dom felt that Vince was so different, that he was so different, they couldn't be the same kind of friends anymore.
Late in the afternoon, he heard the familiar rumble of Vince's car coming up the back alley, wiped off the grease from his hands, and pulled a couple beers out of the fridge. That was another thing that had changed -- Vince stuck to a few bottles a day, rarely going after the harder stuff anymore. Still limping, but less so all the time, Vince went to PT every other day and usually brought Dom a full report of the hottie therapist he was hitting on. Dom had come to think Vince was yanking her chain by exaggerating his damage, but his stories were one of the few things that made him laugh these days.
They inched down the wall with their backs against the cool concrete, Dom resting his head back and closing his eyes against the low afternoon sun. Most of the time he had little to talk about besides work. No parties, no racing, no anything to speak of, really.
Vince was quieter than usual this time, until he finally cleared his throat. "How long before you think things'll be back to normal? I been wondering that lately."
Dom just shrugged in response.
"Maybe there is no normal again." Vince took a drink.
"That'd sum it up."
"So, then, you're gonna be moping for fucking ever," Vince said lightly, looking up at the cloudless late-fall L.A. sky.
"I'm not moping." Dom sounded way whinier than he wanted to.
"What do you call it, then?"
"Just busy, is all." Dom took a pull from his beer. That was another thing about Vince that freaked him out -- he was willing to challenge Dom on stuff he'd never have done before. His head seemed to be wired differently; they'd warned everyone that going into shock had done a number on his brain, and there were a lot more times that Vince forgot what he was doing, or appeared to not connect words to things as well as before -- and Vince had never exactly been Einstein.
"Uh huh." Vince rolled his bottle around in a circle. "It's because of him, isn't it?"
"Him, who?" Dom knew the dumb act wasn't going to work, but he figured he had to try it, anyway.
"Don't fuck with me. Brian. Look, I didn't like the guy, yeah. And I was right about him being a cop. But he saved my life. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. You and me both know he got under your skin pretty damn fast. Shit, everyone knew that."
Dom opened his eyes and glared.
"Yeah, whatever. Didn't mean anything. Blah fuckin' blah." Vince scowled. "It ain't like I want to talk about this and it ain't like I think him being on the team was a good idea in the first place. But everything's different now. If having him around made you happy, then maybe you should keep him around, you know? 'Cause you're not exactly a lot of fun right now."
"You make it sound like..." What was Dom going to say -- like Brian was his boyfriend? He decided to just drink his beer and not dig himself in any deeper.
"Hey, you remember Marie McConnell?" Vince asked.
That was like getting conversational whiplash. "Uh, yeah. What the fuck has she got to do with anything?" Vince had been totally out of his league with that girl; she was way past his brain power and actually had social skills. But she'd been into that whole hard-drinking, street-racing, low-life bad-boy thing. And like most of those relationships, it had ended fast and hard.
"Man, she really loved that poetry shit. Used to go on and on, she'd even read me poems in bed. Always gave me these cards with fancy writing. She said something, I think it was from one of those things, that I never really forgot. Most of the rest of her yammering, I forgot. The sex, though, that is not something I will ever forget."
Shaking his head, Dom asked with slow, annoyed words that he practically spat out, "What was the thing she said?"
"Oh, yeah. Something about how everyone's looking for one true thing in the world. We're looking for it our whole life, and sometimes we're lucky and we know it when we see it."
"Yeah, ookaay."
Dom stood and offered him a hand up, but Vince didn't want to take it. He was tired of this, wanting Dom to at least listen to what he had to say, but the talking didn't seem to be going anywhere but down. Vince was still in a lot of pain, still having trouble finding his feet sometimes, but he was sick of getting help from people, especially Dominic in the mood he was always in. Still, Vince took the hand, staring at Dom as he stood, almost willing him to say something. In the past he would never, ever have brought crap like this up to Dom. Things were different now -- it was the thought he repeated over and over, just to keep himself going. As Dom turned to walk back to the garage, Vince whacked him on the shoulder. He spun around, pissed off and looking like he wanted to fight. Vince didn't even care if Dom took a shot at him. It was time to put this out in the open.
"I'm trying to say. She was full of crap with that soul-mate shit, but I always thought maybe she was also kind of right. Me, I figure my one true thing is your sister, even though she don't agree. Maybe your thing is this family you made. Maybe your thing is having Brian in it."
Dom spread his hands out. "I expect this kind of bullshit from Mia, not from you."
With a glare, Vince said, "Look, whatever was going on with you and him, that's your business. But when he was around you acted like you were a human being. You hadn't been like that since fuckin' Lompoc, man." Vince was almost shouting now, feeling very much like his old self for the first time in a long, long while. "You seemed like you were back in the game. The only thing that made you grin was racing or popping trucks, Dominic, until White Bread came along. It's fuckin' weird and I don't want to think about what it means, I really don't want to think about it, but... Jesus Christ, if him being around makes you happier, then bring him back. Because this King of Pain bullshit and being all depressed is fucking tiresome. Get back in the game and do something about it."
Dom waved his hand at him and turned away. Fucking typical.
"No, man, I mean it. I mean it, Dominic. You're on another planet these days. You been that way since you bounced the kid out of the way; that's what both Mia and Leon say. It ain't about grieving for Jess, either. You're... you're grieving for him, Dom. I know it, they know it, you know it."
"So, you're telling me that I should, what? Go chase after Brian and bring him back? Because he's my best friend forever?" One of the things he had always liked about Dom was his sarcasm, but right now, it just made Vince want to clock him.
Vince grinned, kept grinning until he laughed and clapped Dom on the back. "Whatever, brother. Whatever would make you stop acting like someone killed your puppy. It's fucking annoying."
Dom shook his head, staring up at the sky. Probably figured it was like he'd just stepped into Bizarro World, but fuck it -- if it shocked Dom into doing something, it was worth looking like a pussy. He got quiet, crossing his arms over his chest, staring Dom down.
"You know I'm right. Everyone thinks I'm the same guy who jumped off a car that day, but I ain't. I got a different outlook on things. About how short and lonely and fucked-up life is, and you gotta take what you can get. Find your one true thing, you know? If it's these people, including the boy, then you need to take the chance, man."
That actually did make Dom laugh. "Jesus, Vince, you gotta be kidding me. There's no such bullshit as one true thing that's gonna make your life right and every day is wonderful."
"I didn't believe stuff like that too much before. But I do now." Vince wasn't so good with the words, didn't know how to tell Dom that everything just felt more important now, but he supposed he'd lost this game. They just stood there a while, watching each other. The best Vince could hope for was a draw.
Dom half turned away and sighed. He couldn't argue with that shit, not really. Vince had been down a harder road than anyone else; he battled nightmares about that day, struggled with chronic pain and the knowledge that he'd never be the person he used to be physically -- not to mention emotionally. But Dom still couldn't wrap his brain around the idea of Vince actually encouraging him to bring Brian back into their lives, to admit that it was that important for him.
"Since when did you get to be advice guy?"
"Since I nearly got my arm cut off and got shot and almost lost my leg. Plus there was that thing about almost dying."
Dom twisted his mouth up, trying not to let Vince see him smile, and went back into the garage. "You're so full of shit."
Vince tossed the bottle in the recycling bin. "Yeah. But I'm full of the right shit."
When he heard the sound of Vince's engine turning over, Dom turned to watch him drive away.
What the hell. Maybe he was right. Everything was completely upside down since Brian had first come into their lives. Maybe that was the way they were supposed to be.
Brian got out of bed and shuffled out to the kitchen. Even though it was his weekend, he still tried to get up at a decent time, just because his internal clock was already so off from the swing-shift hours he kept. Stretching a little while he waited for the coffee to finish brewing, he put his hand to his side, feeling the familiar ache and burn. David had told him it should be better by now, giving him that look, but Brian still fought the pain, especially in the mornings. Sleep was too hard to come by, and all the tossing and turning did his body no favors.
They weren't nightmares, precisely, just that he kept replaying the gunshot in his head like a tape on an endless loop he couldn't turn off. Once in a while he got a break and had nightmares about shooting Johnny Tran. As long as he had something to occupy himself during the day, he didn't think about it, but at night, alone, the shock of so much violence came back, reminders of the steps he hadn't taken and the knowledge and experience he'd ignored. There were thoughts of Dom, of being alone... all there festering in the back of his mind, too. Some nights he had to rely on his dwindling supply of Atavan just to unclench and relax enough to fall asleep, but then he'd wake up at three or four or five anyway, never really getting back to sleep. If Brian whined to the doctor for more pills he'd sound like some pathetic addict. The occasional painkillers helped when he overdid it, but for the most part he tried to rely on himself to get better. Only, he appeared to be doing a really lame job.
After some coffee, Brian hit the shower. He had no plans for the day, just a trip to the store for more David-approved food. No gym, no training, just lying around and wallowing. As he toweled off his hair, he heard a knock at the door.
The only person Brian could even figure would show up here was Tanner, so he opened it without checking the peephole to find Dom standing there. As stupid as it was, Brian's first instinct was to shut the door in his face like some wounded teenage girl. Instead he leaned into the edge of the door. "Dom. What are you doing here?"
There was a look on Dom's face Brian couldn't identify; his features were twisted up, mouth drawn in a tight line. Yet he looked good, all the marks of the accident completely gone. He was obviously tired and worn out, which made Brian feel weirdly sorry for him.
"Can I come in?" Dom asked.
Brian hesitated, and in that break, Dom reached out to put his palm flat against Brian's chest, shoving him inside against the wall. He brought his mouth fiercely to Brian's, digging fingers into his shoulders and pushing against him. Reaching out with his foot, Brian knocked the door closed, grabbing fistfuls of Dom's T-shirt. He almost wondered if he was dreaming again of the past, feeling those muscles underneath his fingers again, the familiar scent of Dom's skin and the taste of his mouth. It was like he was made of water, liquid and weightless.
Dom pulled away, pressing his hand on the wall next to Brian's head, his mouth red from kissing, lips gleaming wet. He fixed Brian with a defiant look. "Forgive me?"
"For what?" Brian asked. "Nothing to forgive."
"Leaving. Lying. Everything." Dom kissed him again, the two of them sliding down the wall as they pawed at each other, to end up in a heap of legs and arms on the floor.
"Bullshit," Brian said emphatically. "I get why you did it."
"No, you don't." Dom ran his thumb over Brian's lip, swept by those blue eyes into something he'd forgotten he could feel. Vince was right, this was what made him happy, just Brian, just looking at him.
"Well, then explain it for the audience." Except that he kissed Dom for a good long time, so the words got lost behind that.
After a while Dom pushed Brian back. "Tony called. When you were in the hospital. He talked to Mia."
Brian sat on his heels, looking at Dom skeptically. "He threatened you through her again?"
"Not exactly. But... he made it clear that we could play the game his way, or my way. I chose his way." He paused, watching Brian's reaction, hoping he would understand. "Had to make sure he couldn't hurt the people I cared for."
"And here I thought you were just scared about having to put a rainbow bumper sticker on your car."
"That was my moronic plan."
"Not so moronic after all. It worked."
Dom pulled Brian on top of him. "I'm sorry."
Brian scowled, despite the places Dom was putting his hands. "You do this thing where you make decisions for people. Maybe you ought to rethink that." He stuck his tongue in Dom's ear, sending a giant jolt through him, then bit his earlobe. "You could have told me what happened."
"Mia already beat you to that. She's been bitching me out pretty steadily since I got her back."
"I don't want to talk about it anymore." He stood and offered Dom a hand up. "At least not right now."
Dom allowed Brian to haul him into the bedroom and do things to him he'd begun to believe he'd never experience again. He'd come here with an idea that it would be all fists in the face and swearing and that eventually he'd get booted out the door, so this reception was as confusing as it was incredible.
He was wiped out afterward, sticky with sweat and semen, yet Brian seemed to have just woken up, grinning like an idiot. Dom ran his hand languidly over Brian's arm as he sat there smiling down at him, sheets pooled around his hips. The scar of his wound was so vivid it made Dom's stomach clench; he wasn't fully healed even with these long months in between. "So, if you were doing this to save me from Gregory, then what wrecked your plan? Did you sell your soul to him?"
"Nah. He might be in prison but he's living pretty large. I squared it with him. Sort of."
"Uh huh. Sure you did. At some point I'm gonna find out what the deal is." He sighed. "Why show up now?
"Vince."
"Vince? You have got to be shitting me." Brian shoved his foot against Dom's thigh, hard.
Dom shook his head and slapped Brian's leg away. "Vince. Apparently he's sick of me. Like everyone else. He started going on about poetry. I had to come here to shut him up."
"Let's just pause for a minute to reflect on the sheer unreality of everything you're telling me."
With a shrug, Dom said, "I know. But he's got this idea that having you around made me happier than since before I was inside. I don't think he really understands what he's saying, or what having you around means. Shit, if he did, he'd run away screaming. But on some level, maybe he gets that you can't pick what makes you happy."
"Look, not that I think you're lying or anything, but... you gotta admit, even just the fact Vince would say anything like that is weird enough, but the guy hates me."
"He's different, Brian. I didn't expect it, either. What happened really freaked him out." Reaching over, Dom ran his hand down Brian's side, watching his skin goosebump along the way. "And there was that jumping on a moving semi to save his life stuff. Vince may be a lot of things, but he ain't ungrateful."
"So, he, what... thinks I should be on your team?"
"Don't really have a team anymore. But yeah. Maybe he thinks this'll get it going again. Talked a lot about family."
Brian spread his body over Dom's, biting his earlobe again. This was apparently becoming a thing with him. "Will it?"
"I don't know. Persuade me."
"Uh-uh. First I want to know what's going on. What you're doing, what's happened." Dom got the impression Brian wasn't saying something else along with that, something he wanted to know.
"You wondering if everything was great and I forgot about you in the meantime?"
"Nah. You wouldn't be here if it was." Brian smiled. "Just... Guess I wanted to know that everything was worth it. Mia's okay, and all."
"Yeah. Things are pretty much how you heard the last time." That all-too familiar flush of shame heated his skin, so he threw his arm around Brian to give him a tight squeeze. Brian seemed to get that he was apologizing once more and pinched him, hard. "Ow. Fucker."
"Look. We gotta set some ground rules, unless you're not really planning to stick around any longer. If you are, stop talking about the past. What's done is done. Just promise that in the future, if you've got dastardly plans, you tell me about them. Don't be making decisions for me."
Dom twisted his fingers in Brian's hair, which had gotten really long. Surprising that the department didn't make him cut it. "You got it." But he still didn't understand why Brian had forgiven him so easily. Dom wasn't the kind to hold a grudge that long -- that had always been Vince's department -- but he'd expected something much worse from Brian. Maybe there was another shoe going to drop at some point.
As Brian rolled over onto his back, Dom put his hand on the scar. "You? I haven't stopped thinking about this. Hoping you were all right."
"It's... there's still pain, but it's not like it's not manageable. Sometimes I get tired faster than I want to. I got a personal trainer, though, who's studying to be a sports medicine guy. He helps."
"What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing. It's getting better. Not much to tell."
But Dom knew there was something heavier he wasn't talking about; he could see it behind Brian's eyes, hear it in the grating edge of his voice. "Tanner? Your job?"
"He's good. Put a spin on everything once it was over. I got stuck in a precinct near the airport. Desk duty still, but once I get back on my feet totally... It was the best I could expect, really, after everything."
"Didn't matter that you brought in the Armenian himself? Think they'd be giving you half-naked chicks to peel you some grapes."
"Not to some people. No grapes." Brian shrugged and looked away.
"Hey," Dom said, gripping his shoulder tight. "What is it?"
"Nothing, man. Just... it's been a weird couple a months, you know?"
"Got that right."
Slipping out of bed, Brian said quietly, "I need more coffee. You want anything?" He yanked his jeans on and went to the kitchen. Clearly the guy was backing away from something, but Dom was fucked if he could figure out what.
It took Brian a minute to realize that he hadn't even waited for Dom to answer, so he poured him some coffee anyway, then sat on the bed. He would have to adjust to having someone around again. The situation felt so surreal, Dom here in Brian's bed, arm up under his head, all those muscle arcs and curves for his viewing pleasure alone. Yet he was unsure how much he was willing to give out about his problems in spite of how comfortable it felt.
"How's business?"
"Ah, I'm so backed up it ain't funny. I just get through it as fast as I can, but without Jess..." They both stared down at their cups when he said that. "Damn. You make really good coffee."
"I know. Everyone in the station knows, too, now. They freaking wait for me to come on shift to make new coffee. Lazy-asses."
Dom laughed at him, that nearly silent chuckle Brian had seen so rarely. Maybe now, with the world so different and everything that had threatened them gone, Brian would see it more often. "So, I was wondering... if you still liked working on cars. Maybe you could come by sometime, help me out."
There was an element of pity Brian inferred from the tone of his voice. He answered harshly, "I don't need occupational therapy, you know."
Pulling his arm down and sitting up in the bed, Dom grabbed Brian's wrist, hard. "Where the fuck did that come from?"
His eyes cast down at the sheets, Brian said, "I don't know. Sorry." He noticed the way the sheet draped across Dom's hip, the contrast of the white against his tan skin. "I guess I'm just tired of everyone having pity for me."
"Who has pity? No pity here. Only asking because I want to."
"Just forget I said it." He pushed off the bed and pulled a T-shirt over his head. "What do you say we get out of here? Go do something. Work on the Charger, maybe?"
"We could do that." Dom grabbed his clothes off the floor. "You wanna get a bite first?"
"Okay."
Dom watched as Brian put his shoes on and stuffed his wallet and keys in his pocket. There was something about the way he moved, still stiff and favoring his side, that gave Dom pause, but he wasn't going to bring it up again. Maybe when they spent more time with each other, it would come out. For now, though, he was willing to wait and see.
If you really wanted something in life, Dom's father had always told him, you had to sacrifice to get it. Bringing Brian back into his life didn't exactly mean everything was easy, but what was hard right now would prove worth it in the long run. Vince did his best to be friendly despite not being one to make a lot of small talk, so he and Brian settled in to a kind of respectful acceptance -- though not much else. They would never be buddies, but at least they were on good enough terms that it didn't piss Dom off on a daily basis. Leon, too, had been glad to see Brian back, but Leon was always like that. It was Mia, weirdly, who was coldest to Brian. She didn't exactly shun him, but she kept her distance. Dom wanted to ask why, but never did. Maybe because he was afraid of the answer.
The world felt less empty with Brian around; not that it made Jesse's loss any less painful, but having everyone there filled up the space, made them all feel like they were moving forward again, not just drifting. They were often at the house like before, watching a movie or just hanging around, but he and Brian kept things on the down-low anywhere else but at Brian's place. Dom was pretty sure others would add the numbers together at some point, but he would ignore it until they did. This was their own time while they could get it; when the rest of the world started freaking out, then everything would be lost.
Still, it was far from smooth. Underneath the smiles and laughs, there was a strange current running through Brian, like he was always angry. At what, Dom couldn't tell. He'd asked once if it was because Brian had been shot helping out in a situation Dom had created, which only angered Brian more. "I can't believe I have to keep telling you that I don't blame you for any of this," he'd barked, and Dom had kept his yap shut after that. Not an easy thing to do when Brian woke up from occasional nightmares breathing heavily and sweating.
But his silence stopped when Dom noticed how fast Brian went through the bottles of aspirin with codeine he kept in a kitchen cabinet. It wasn't like you could call it a habit, and his pain wasn't severe enough for Dom to forcibly haul him to the doctor. No one else would even notice the bad temper he got. But it worried him enough to finally bring it up. They were in bed, lazing around on a Sunday morning in their jeans after a trip out for morning espresso, but with Brian so distant, Dom just dove in.
"I know you like to take care of shit on your own. And I know you hate it when I ask questions. But I gotta know what's going on. All these weeks, seems like you should be happier. Getting better. But you don't."
The way Brian looked at him was a lot like those first few days they rolled together trying to get Mia back. Disdain, some fear. He put the sports section down. "I'm fine."
"Really getting sick of that answer."
"What do you want me to say? That I've got PTSD or something? That's the department shrink's business."
"No, I just want you to tell me the truth. Brian, talk to me." Dom sat up, crossed his legs underneath him.
Brian pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. "It's just... I don't know. Sometimes, yeah, it still hurts and it shouldn't. I get headaches sometimes, especially at work. Nothing you wouldn't expect, though."
With a firm grip, Dom tugged on Brian's shoulder, pulling his head into his lap. "You get nightmares, too."
"Yeah, sometimes. It's just the shooting, like it's on replay."
"Not sometimes, Bri. Almost every night." He ran his fingers through Brian's hair, rubbed his thumbs gently around his temples. "Did you actually see the department shrink?"
"They made me go for a while, but it's kind of pointless. Shit happens on a job like this."
Dom continued what he was doing, waiting a while before he spoke. "Not like this, it doesn't." He put his hands on either side of Brian's face. "There's more you're not dealing with."
"It's just here. It isn't something I can control, or make go away."
"Yeah, you can. "
Brian gave a choking laugh, one that sounded almost like a sob. All this time he'd needed to talk about this shit but never had, and it was eating him alive. "How? When does it go away, when I snap my fingers and say the magic words?"
All the wasted time when Dom had thought he was saving Brian and here it was, coming back to haunt him: what he had never done to help Brian as he should have, as Brian deserved. The way you do for family, for the ones you love. "No," Dom said softly, "It'll go when you take control back. When you let go of feeling like you did something wrong."
Brian closed his eyes, turning his face to the side. The shrug he gave told Dom everything. Mia had once called Dom the king of denial; he couldn't compete with Brian in that department.
"Think about it. You shot and killed a guy. No matter how much you train for that, it's a bitch to handle -- and you never handled it. You went right back into this shit with me. And then you got shot. Jesus, Brian, anyone would be a head-case after that. Anyone. You were alone all this time, feeling like you were responsible for everything. Me, included."
"I keep telling you, I don't blame you."
"Maybe not, but you were pissed at me. Shit, I'd be pissed at me." He leaned down and kissed Brian's forehead. "But you're strong, I told you that. Stronger than me. You can do this."
"I don't know how." Brian didn't sound so much sad as exhausted by his own pain, carrying the weight of it for so long.
"Well, guess what, dumbass, you don't have to figure it out all by yourself now. You got me."
For a while Brian didn't move, just lay there as Dom's hands stroked his skin, letting everything he'd said sink in. There was something about Dom's deep, comforting voice, the big strong hands, that made Brian believe maybe he really could get past this. Dom had said, "Talk to me," something no one had ever asked of him before. Brian reached up to put his hand over Dom's. "Yeah, I do, don't I?"
Pushing Brian to the side, Dom slid down the bed next to him, then threw his arm across Brian's chest. Head resting on one hand, he looked down at Brian. It had never been hard to get why Dom was the paternal figure in everyone's lives, why people would defer to him. That quality had made Brian fall for him in the first place; even when things were blowing up in your face, you believed that with Dom around, everything could be all right. Brian had seen the cracks in that façade -- Dom's temper, that insane rage and focus, the fear that he carried of failing everyone he loved. Yet even knowing those flaws, Brian had no doubts that Dom really was that guy -- the leader, the powerful one. Everyone's big brother. Dom liked being needed; no matter how tired he was of being stuck in charge, it came as naturally to him as driving, it was in his blood. If Dom believed himself a failure, Brian instead saw the man Dom's father had made, the one who knew how to take care of people.
"Maybe you should be the department shrink," Brian said with a smile.
"Mm. Yeah, I bet they'd really like it when I tell them my plan for making you feel better." He unbuttoned Brian's fly, sliding the jeans down his naked hips. He took some time to run the backs of his fingers up and down Brian's thighs, along his belly, waiting for him to get hard, which wasn't much of a wait at all. All Dom really had to do these days was look at him.
"Wait, if I guess a Marvin Gaye song, will I be in the neighborhood?" His voice got a little higher than he would have liked as Dom abruptly sank his teeth into Brian's ass; hard enough to send a thrill rocketing through his body, light enough not to hurt. Kind of the way it always was with Dom.
Brian watched as Dom took his cock in his mouth, something that still, even after all these months, never failed add such a jolt of pleasure that he could barely hold back. Closing his eyes, Brian let Dom work him, rapt with the silky sensation of tongue and lips, hands that stroked the insides of his thighs, until he came in rolling waves.
As he pulled himself up beside Brian, Dom wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning. Brian took a swipe at the wetness on his belly, rubbing it off on the sheets. "Gotta do some laundry before it starts getting rank in here." He chuckled at the sour look on Dom's face.
"Too late." Dom flopped down with a grunt. "How's the plan working?"
"Good first step. Let's maintain a regular therapy appointment, how 'bout it?"
"I promise you'll be my most important client."
They never talked seriously about the sex, about anything related to the relationship at all. The closest they'd ever come was the conversation of that morning. Sometimes Brian wondered what Dom wanted out of it, if this was the way they were going to stay. Not that he was complaining, but it felt like they were outside their lives. He should be content to just have Dom back, but he wasn't sure that it would ever seem normal or average, something they didn't have to work at or be concerned with.
"I was thinking we should do something today. Go surfing." Brian knew that would get Dom in a panic.
"I don't do water," Dom said with a dignified sniff.
"Don't give me that shit. Consider it part of my therapy. I do something I like, it'll get things out of my system. If you want me to get better, you'll go surfing with me."
"Hell I will."
Brian was afraid he might start laughing and never stop. Dom hated to deny him anything, but he was still a hardass about what constituted fun. "Think of the visual pleasure you'll give all the chicks on the beach. Not to mention some of the guys. A bod like this is not something to deny the rest of the world." He slapped Dom's thigh.
"If I go, you're not getting me in the water. But I'm all over watching you."
"Yee hah." Brian jumped out of bed. "I promise you vast rewards at the end of this."
"You better. Look, just promise me you're gonna take it easy till you're back in shape."
"No prob. Oh, and by the way. Dumbass is what I call you." He threw a t-shirt, hitting Dom in the face. "You may call me Mr. Stunning." All he got was that scowl.
Smiling, Brian gathered up his stuff, watching Dom get dressed. There were a lot of things you could call Dom, but selfless wasn't one of them. In many respects they didn't spend as much time with each other as most people who were involved did, between their jobs and trying to keep things low-key. Dom was at his place most nights, but a weekend excursion was pretty much unheard of in the time they'd been together. Maybe things were starting to change.
Mia had managed to avoid Brian for most of the past few months, not to mention keep her contact with Dom to a minimum. It wasn't like she didn't know he wanted to talk to her -- that both of them wanted to talk to her, find out what she was feeling, and that concept was nauseating enough, thanks. But she was damned if she was going to give them the satisfaction of knowing what all these changes had done to her. In the morning she would leave by the time Dom got up, then stayed late at school to study or went to a friend's apartment to hang out. A couple of times, Dom had tried to trick her by getting up extra early, but he'd never been much of a morning person -- while Mia herself was wide awake and capable of functioning before it was even light -- so avoiding him had been simple. By the time she'd get home in the evening Dom was generally at Brian's, or so she assumed, and if he wasn't, Vince was there, occasionally with Leon, so there wouldn't be any conversations about relationships no matter how many beers were consumed.
Until one day she let her guard down, thinking the coast was finally clear, and Brian cornered her in the kitchen. No way had she expected him to be there, a weekday evening when Dom would normally have been over at Brian's, only there he was and no Dom in sight. Mia almost wanted to grab a knife to warn him away, but that would be a little over the top. She was just so pissed she couldn't see straight, and didn't know what to do with all that anger roiling in her gut. Torettos yelled and threw things and got it out of their systems; now, though, there was nothing for her to do that to, or with.
"Hey, Mia, how's it going?" Brian asked, backing her into a corner while acting as though he not only didn't know how it was going, but he wasn't pushing her into a space she couldn't escape from without knocking him on his ass.
She tried to move around him, but he sidestepped along with her. "It's great, Brian. Going really great." Absolutely no way was she going to meet his eyes -- let herself get sucked in by those baby blues he'd used to hypnotize everyone before. "I need to go."
"We're heading out in a minute, soon as Dom gets here. I just thought I'd hang around and say hi, see where things were."
Glaring at him, Mia asked in a voice more brittle than she would have liked, "Where things were? You actually think you can ask me that?"
He put the bottle of beer he'd been holding in her hand; his touch was a static shock, sharp and unpleasant. "It's long past time to say something, isn't it?"
"Oh, wait, I get it. You want us to be friends."
"That'd be nice, but not what I'm expecting. I don't blame you for hating me. The only thing I can hope for is a truce, and for you to stop punishing Dom for what I did."
"Well, that's mighty generous of you, Brian. Gosh, I'm glad we cleared that up." Again she tried to maneuver around him and again he blocked her.
"What is it that pisses you off more? That your brother's sleeping with a guy, or that you think I used you to get to him?"
That brought her up short. She'd never expected to hear it laid out like that; confronting this pain that had festered for so long threw her off balance. A couple of times Mia opened her mouth, then closed it, unable to figure out what to say, before answering, "I... I don't know. Both. I guess. Goddammit, Brian, you come into our lives and make me fall for you and the whole time you're lying, and then you... you and Dom are like a freaking couple... What the hell am I supposed to think about that? And you nearly died saving my life, and Vince's, and I just don't know what to do with that. Sometimes I hate you so much for all of this, and sometimes I know that you gave a lot back to us, and I just... I don't know."
Brian smiled at her, the blinding-white grin that had taken her by surprise all those months ago. "How about you don't try to fight it? When you want to hate me, hate me, and when you want to almost like me, then you can do that too. Mix it up a little. Variety being the spice of life and all."
She ducked her head, trying not to smile. It was so hard to stay pissed at the bastard. Brian put his hand on her shoulder.
"Look, I know it's tough. This is weirder than weird, don't think I don't get that. Dom doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I never wanted to hurt you. If you'd rather have us stay the hell away from you, we will. But Dom misses you, he misses being a family. He doesn't talk about it -- like that'd ever happen -- but I can tell how he feels, and not being able to be here with you... He'd like to at least talk to you. Really talk."
"Dom doesn't talk. You know that. He yells a bunch of stuff at you and you're supposed to listen and do what he says."
"He does though, now. He's changed a lot, seeing how everything he's done has affected people." He ran his hands through his hair. "Just so you know, it hasn't been easy for me. I've had a hard time about the shooting, other crap that happened, and he called me on it. So. You might be surprised."
"No kidding, I'd be surprised." Mia watched his face, wondering if he was putting her on, but he appeared to be very sincere. That was one of the most difficult things about losing him -- he'd made her feel like no one else had; so often she'd remembered his comment about being on the team for her, not for Dom. Mia sighed. "I'll think about it, okay? Maybe if it's on one of the days where I don't hate you both, I'll page you. That's the best I can offer."
"Hey, it's something." Brian shrugged, giving her a quizzical look. He wanted to ask more, she could tell, but was probably figuring he should quit while he was ahead.
Mia pointed her finger. "It doesn't mean I'm not still pissed off in general."
"I feel you." He turned to go, actually winking at her. That was going too far. "See you soon."
Mia lingered in the doorway, watching as he went out to the garage to pick up a few things, then drove away. It was impossible to stay angry with him, this guy who'd been so lonely for so long, who'd wanted the self-made family they offered more than anything. Brian wasn't the type to hurt people intentionally, he had a good heart, but it seemed like anyone who got mixed up with Dom ended up hurting others, no matter what their intentions. Mia finished off the beer and went back upstairs, looking in Dom's room. No one even really lived in it anymore; the room was spotless and uncluttered. In a way, Mia supposed, she was partly to blame for that.
There'd been more than a few times, if she was feeling more charitable, that Mia wondered why she was having such a hard time accepting the fact that her brother was sleeping with a guy. Sure, there was a ton of extra baggage, like the fact that he used to be her boyfriend, but still... she'd wanted to think of herself as more enlightened. Instead Mia was bitter, a little disgusted, and kind of... well, hurt, maybe that was the word. It didn't make any sense, but it was how she felt, and there wasn't a whole hell of a lot she could do except work through it and hope time fixed her heart.
Mia threw her books down on the bed and opened a can of pop, hoping she'd still be awake by the time Dom got home so she could give this talking thing a try.
For a long time, Dom had wanted to get back to something like the life he'd had before. Brian knew it wasn't his plan to start street racing again -- especially since he was, on Tanner's advice, bringing his case in front of the people who'd barred him from the track in an attempt to get on the NIRA circuit, at least -- but he and Brian did show up at meets just to watch and maintain relationships. Weirdly, his rep had only grown once stories had spread, often wildly embellished, about what he and Brian had done. It would be a long time before he'd need to look for business, but the heroic tales were pretty much good only for Dom and had never done Brian any favors with his fellow cops.
Yet there was a restless quality about him that Brian could never really pin down. Even with Mia being friendly again -- sort of, anyway -- Dom seemed edgy. In an attempt to figure out what was up, Brian had even gone so far as to talk to Vince, a conversation that would have been funny if it hadn't been so awkward and weird for both of them. Vince was certain about only one thing: Dom had lived outside the boundaries of ordinary life for so long, the straight and narrow would be harder line to walk. At first Brian found that tough to swallow, until the day he'd tailed Dom as he left for some mysterious errand.
He'd ended up way the hell down in Long Beach after one hell of a follow, trying to keep up with Dom on the 405 during afternoon traffic. Dom had pulled up in front of a small apartment building, taking a while to get out. After knocking on the door and waiting, then knocking again and waiting some more, he'd stuck something in the mailbox and left.
Later at work, Brian had looked up the address: Kenny Linder. All this time Dom was still giving him money, but probably never had the chance to speak to him. It troubled Brian that he could never really fix the way he revisited his crimes, over and over. Vince had been right, but in a different way than he might have realized -- for Dom, life was still full of past misdeeds, of the things he couldn't set right but wanted to. As much as Dom wanted to help Brian with the issues eating away at him, the only thing that would help Dom would be time.
They both tried their best, though. Before he and Dom had split, there'd been talk of having a party in Jesse's honor, so Brian brought it up again when they were all together. Vince and Leon went predictably insane over the idea, as if they'd never had a party in their lives. It had been too long since they'd done something just for fun.
Brian was on shift the night of the party; by the time he arrived, cars lined the street and people spilled out all the doors. They crowded the driveway and the garage and the lawns. Apparently everyone who used to roll with Dom and his posse had missed the freebies at the Toretto house. Vince stood framed in the living room window, waving a giant plastic cup around, probably trying to impress some chick with his war stories. Weaving his way through the crowd, Brian saw the unmistakable mass of King, manning the barbecue, probably staying outside since he wouldn't be able to get through those narrow, old doorways. Brian returned the hand gesture when King spotted him; they'd run into each other a couple times at meets, and like everyone, he kept a respectful but friendly distance from Brian. They all knew now that he was a cop; some of them, at least, got that he was still one of them. As long as he had Dom's seal of approval, there wasn't much people wouldn't give him.
That was, so long as they kept things as they were. He wouldn't have minded more of Dom's time, staying together in some place -- either his or Dom's -- 24/7, but that wasn't likely any time soon. It had been hard enough for both of them to accept the changes in their lives and much as they would have liked to move forward, they both knew they weren't ready to face the shitstorm that would follow being out.
"It's nice, isn't it? Like before," a voice behind him said, and he turned to see Mia. She sounded so different, relaxed and pleased.
"Yeah. Jess would have liked it. Music, booze, scantily dressed girls who aren't picky about whose tongue is in their mouth..."
Mia smirked. "Dom's upstairs, I think. Better get some beer while you can; we're running low. I'm going to have to send Leon out for another keg soon." She vanished into the crowd, so Brian made the rounds, grabbing a bottle of beer from Leon as he made his way through. Upstairs, surrounded by girls, Dom was holding court, just like always. The only thing different was that Letty wasn't around to scare anyone off. Brian gave him a slight nod, and Dom squeezed past the girls.
"Shindig got a little bigger than expected, huh?" Brian asked, waving a hand around expansively.
"Gonna go broke from this," Dom said with a sigh, but Brian could tell he was damn happy. And happier now that Brian was here.
"Not much of a wake. Or whatever you'd call it. Just a big-ass party. Do half the people here even know Jess? Sorry. Knew."
Dom blinked. "Ah, just got out of hand. Someone told two friends, and they told two friends..."
He felt guilty. "Nah, a lot of people knew Jess," Brian said. "He was on your team."
Dom gave him that "don't bullshit me" look and arched an eyebrow. "Uh huh. It's not like they're here for the booze and the weed."
"Yeah, okay." Dom steered him down the stairs and toward the back room that Vince had stayed in. It was quieter, and he wanted to take some time with Brian while he could. Weird how fast he'd grown used to the low-key life. Not to mention how fast he'd gotten to a point where he couldn't imagine life without Brian in it.
"By the time King finally runs out of barbecue, people will leave." Dom glanced out the window, shaking his head at the way the guy had taken over the party. That was what he liked about King, though.
"I was expecting you to be the one running that show."
"You don't wanna get between King and large slabs of meat." Dom perched on the windowsill and Brian stood next to him, leaning against the wall. The only other people in the room drifted out after a few minutes, and Dom looked up at him.
"He is a large slab of meat."
He got the impression that Brian was nervous or something. "You okay? Work bad?"
"Nah. The usual. Actually, got good news today, they're putting me back on patrol. Apparently my desk skills and coffee-making ability have dazzled everyone and they think I'm ready for the mean streets of L.A. again."
"Then what is it?"
Brian gave him his worst fake-innocent look. "I'm surprised that no one's running for the hills with a cop here," Brian said with a shrug. "People act like it's no big, but... come on. They've gotta be freaked."
"No reason for that. You've been to races, everyone knows you're cool."
"Uh huh. I bet they do." Brain threw in a smirk for emphasis, which made Dom want to bite his lip right there. "And I'm sure it had nothing to do with you paving the way. "
"Maybe just a little..." Dom stood up, shoving the door near-closed with his foot. "Jesus. I must be getting old because the noise is driving me batshit."
"Hey, you kids, turn down that goddamn rock and roll." Brian backed up against the wall, hooking his heel up on the edge of the wainscoting. Dom pushed his knee sideways and moved in on him, both palms against the wall on either side of his head.
"Somehow I don't think this is a good idea. But you're also drunk, so I don't imagine anything I say is going to matter to you."
"Hell, I'm not that drunk. I just don't care."
Nodding, Brian said, "Because you're, you know, drunk."
Dom leaned in and kissed him, lips imbued with the essence of tequila and salt and lime. Brian pushed his hand up under Dom's shirt, warming on his smooth skin. For a moment the noise disappeared and the only thing he was aware of was the sensation of Dom's lips, the taste of his mouth, and the pressure of his body against Brian's. As he pulled away, Dom said, "That'll do for a while."
"It better, 'cause that's all you're gonna get--" Before he got the rest of his sentence out, Brian looked over Dom's shoulder, noticing there were people standing in the doorway. Specifically, Leon, Vince, and Mia.
While neither Mia nor Vince were very happy -- Mia had her hand on her forehead like she was in pain -- it was Leon who was in the worst shock, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. It took a few seconds for Dom to realize that Brian was freaking over something and he stared at him, confused, then slowly turned around to see what Brian was looking at. As Dom made eye contact with him, Leon went out to the hall in a hurry, the other two on his heels.
"Shit," was all Dom said before he picked up a half-empty beer bottle sitting on the dresser and threw it against the wall.
"Well, we knew it was gonna happen sooner or later," Brian commented, rubbing his forehead. "More than a few people must have figured you bringing me back knowing I was a cop, and the way we're always together... that means something. Dom and Brian sitting in a tree..."
Pointing a finger at him, Dom said, "Do not start with the jokes. This ain't the time for that."
"Bullshit, there's never been a better time for jokes. K-I-S-S-I-N-G," Brian mock-sang, pushing his hand up under Dom's shirt.
For a second Brian thought Dominic was actually going to cry till he realized he was just fighting off a grin. Most people could only get Dom to sort of smile and half-chuckle, but Brian had always been able to pull real laughter from him. The more inappropriate the timing, the harder Dom laughed.
"Come on, Dom. We'd be morons if we thought it was gonna stay this way forever. We lose people, or we lose each other. You had that right the first time."
"I don't want to deal with this shit."
That made Brian suck in a breath, his stomach seizing up. "Okay. If that's the way you want it. Just say the word..." Here we go again, he thought.
"No! Fuck, that's not what I meant." Dom scowled. "I'm not going to walk again. Told you that."
Brian let his breath out. "Sorry. Look, let's go find them. We got to at least talk it out."
Dom arched an eyebrow. "Somehow I don't think talking is going to do much besides make it worse."
"Consider it damage control, then."
"Yes, officer." Dom followed him out the room.
They found the three of them out near the street, as far away from people as they could get without trespassing on the neighbor's property. Brian trailed behind Dom, and he wasn't sure Brian could hear what they were saying, but Dom caught a piece of the conversation.
"Look," Vince was saying. "You love Dom. We all do." He paused for a moment, reacting to something Leon was saying, but Dom couldn't tell what it was. "I don't mean that way, you moron. I'm just saying, we're family. You love your family no matter what."
"Not when they're fucking faggots, you don't," Leon said in the voice he always used when he was being stubborn, just to annoy Vince.
"You want to lose him, all of us, because you got problems?" This was where he'd taunt Leon, hoping for a fight; Dom knew Vince's ways like he knew his own. Fighting might make it easier for Vince to stick up for Dom and Brian.
Mia stood with her arms crossed over her chest, pointedly not saying anything. That was a bad sign; when she was quiet, she was worse than when she was loud and pissed.
"Are you telling me you don't got problems? Jesus, Vince, they were..." Apparently he couldn't even bring himself to say it.
"I know. Look, I ain't saying I'm cool with it. I'm just saying... life is really fucking short, you know? I learned the hard way that there's worse things to be worried about than who's fucking who. What difference does it make? It's still Dom. It's still family."
Leon turned to look at Mia, and Dom could clearly see his face for the first time. He looked like he was going to blow a gasket, not what you'd normally see on his face. Before, Dom had thought it would take a shotgun blast to get Leon tense about anything. Apparently this was the shotgun blast. "This doesn't piss you off? Wasn't he supposed to be your boyfriend?" Leon asked her.
"That was over a long time ago," Mia said.
"That ain't an answer."
Vince took hold of Leon's shoulder and then looked up toward the house, finally seeing Dom there.
"Get over it," he said angrily. "You got a choice to make. But think about everyone we've lost this year. That really worth it?"
Dom stepped forward out of the shadow, and Mia jumped. Brian came up behind him.
"Your choice, Leon." He didn't want to sound pissed, but it was hard to keep the edge out of his voice. "Not expecting you to stick around if you don't want to."
Leon didn't respond.
Brian offered, in a voice so quiet Dom could hardly hear him, "I'm sorry you had to see that. Find out that way."
Leon glanced sideways. But Dom could tell he was going to cave. Vince had gotten to him with that shit about life being too short.
As Leon walked past him toward the house, he made a point to stay as far away from Dom and Brian as possible. Dom half-turned and asked over his shoulder, "We good?"
"I'll let you know," Leon responded sourly, but Dom was pretty sure he'd come around. No one would ever like this; as more people found out, things were going to get pretty chilly. Brian was right about that.
Mia followed Leon, but she gave Dom's shoulder a little squeeze. At least she was warming up more each day. She would probably never view the situation as anything but "this is the way it is so we have to put up with it." Still, Dom had learned one thing after prison: you had to take what people were willing to give you. Didn't matter if you were an ex-con or sleeping with a guy -- people would make a judgment, and you had to find a way to make it work with them, or not, and move on.
Fallout from the party was something both of them expected. But for a while things stayed quiet. Dom didn't try to force the issue with Leon, or anyone else for that matter. He and Brian had talked things over, Brian insisting it was better to simply play it by ear, wait to see how things worked out. Though that didn't stop Dom from asking him to move into the house in the spare room that Vince had used. Brian put him off instead, claiming they spent enough time together as it was, and it wasn't like they were being forced apart in order to avoid prying eyes.
They'd settled in to a kind of rhythm, even if life wasn't as crazy as before -- and they both felt it was good. Not too long ago Dom was just an ex-con going nowhere; now he was out of the life, happy with someone who he was pretty sure was happy with him. He didn't really believe that things could get better. Then one day he sorted through the mail, finding a letter he had bargained on never actually seeing.
Brian was in the garage, working on the Charger, their never-ending project. Because he had a weekend patrol shift, his days off came in the middle of the week. Dom frequently found him at the house when he came off work, cleaning up parts or buried under the chassis. The Charger had come to be more Brian's pet project than his. Its meaning and connection to his father had long since faded for Dom, probably thanks to getting bounced around in it like a sack of groceries and ending up with his brain scrambled for a long time.
"Hey," Dom said, slapping Brian on the ass.
He straightened up and fixed Dom with a disgruntled glare. "Slap my ass like that again and I'll drop-kick you out to curb." Then he seemed to notice Dom was smiling. "What's up?"
Waving the letter, Dom said, "Guess what came in the mail."
"Looks like paper. Probably came in an envelope? Funny how that works."
"My petition has been okayed. I can race again."
Brian let out a huge whoop and threw an arm around Dom's neck, pulling him tight and slapping him on the back. "That is fucking great!"
"Just NIRA, but it's something. Guess your old boss was as good as his word. Don't think they'd have listened if not for him. And you."
"I didn't do much. You can give Tanner all the credit. Man, we need to go out and celebrate. Drinks are on me."
Dom cocked his head sideways. "Nah, seriously. All this is because of you."
Brian's response was to duck his head, but his face turned damn pink from embarrassment. You couldn't really say thanks or show the guy any appreciation without him lapsing into his "aw, shucks" routine. It was time for him to get used to being around people who cared for him, to get used to being appreciated.
When Brian looked up, his face abruptly changed, the same look he'd had when he saw Leon that night. This time, though, it was Hector. Jesus, it just kept coming...
"Hey, Hector," Brian said, acting like he was thrown. "How's it going?"
Hector nodded in his direction, then fixed his gaze on Dom. "You got a minute?"
With a quick motion to let Brian know that it was okay, Dom went out to the driveway. He sat down on the edge of the wall and Hector sat next to him, definitely not close. He was a very unhappy guy today.
"I been hearing some talk. About you and Snowman."
"Yeah? Let me guess what that kind of talk is." Dom shook his head in disgust.
Hector heaved a big sigh, like somehow this burden was all on him. Now that Dom wasn't racing anymore, the two of them only occasionally saw each other in person. There were kids Hector knew who wanted their cars tricked, but who he didn't have time for, and they got sent Dom's way. But that was pretty much most of their relationship. "I didn't wanna believe that. You, of all people, taking it--"
"Stop right there," Dom said sharply. It was a voice Hector had heard him use a hundred times before to shut people up when things got fucked. If Hector didn't know him so well, he'd think Dom was ready for a fight. "You don't want to go anywhere near this with me. Got it?"
"All true then, huh, homes?" Hector had hoped the whole thing was someone's idea of a retarded joke.
"What's your point? You feel the need to come here and piss me off?"
"No, man, just come here see what's the what. 'Cause I didn't believe. You, out of anyone. Never would have put Blondie down for that, either. Shit."
"What business is it of yours? Since we're bein' so friendly."
Hector half-expected Dom to throw down on him. Fact was, he didn't really have a good answer. "We gonna be racing again, I hear. Same social circles."
"How the fuck did you know that? I just found out a few minutes ago."
"Got my ways." He shook his head. "This is some fucked-up shit." The first time someone told him Dominic and Snowman were spending too much time together, he'd laughed. But the more he heard, the more Hector knew he'd have to find out straight, no matter how sick it made him. Him and Dom, they had history.
"Yeah, you keep saying that. I got stuff to do, so can we wrap this up? Why don't you just make your remarks about faggots and how sick it is and then beat it."
"That ain't my point." Hector took a deep breath. "I'm freaked, no shit. I don't know what to think about it. But I got a lot of people who need shit I can't do, and I still gotta send 'em your way. I just want to know who I'm dealing with."
"Don't you mean what you're dealing with? Isn't that what you're here for, to remind me about all the ways I'm going to hell or what a sick fuck I am?"
Hector stood up and waved a hand at Dom. "When you asked me for help, I helped. I didn't do it because I'm a great guy, you know? I ain't saying this makes sense to me or that I'm cool with it or I'm gonna start wearing a pride button. But if I'm going to pass someone on to you, then I better know. You're still the one to go to for the best work."
"Now you know. So you can leave." Dom was pissed, no mistaking that, but Hector could tell he wasn't going to hold on to it. They had a lot of years behind them and Hector didn't think he was willing to throw all that away just because this was crazy bad. Dom said, "Look. I got a choice: It's Brian, or it's everyone else in the world. I'm going for Brian, and I don't give a shit who's got problems with it."
"Okay, brah. Okay." Hector put his fist out, and after a few minutes, Dom reached up and knocked his knuckles. "Say adios to Snowman for me."
Dom watched him walk away, feeling tired. He supposed this was what the future would be like -- everyone looking at them with disgust, making jokes and sneering behind their backs. The best they could hope for would be the way Vince had acted -- not happy about the changes, but valuing the friendship more. It was good that Hector didn't want to cut the ties, not for this, especially since they were definitely going to see more of each other. Hector was a good enough guy that Dom had some faith it might work itself out. Others, he wasn't so sure about.
Brian ambled up to him, wiping his hands on a shop rag. "Let me guess. You make me wanna puke? Or maybe it's the Catholic gonna go to hell speech."
"Nah. Just... freaking out."
"Does he know there's a club for that now?" Brian asked.
Dom looked up at him standing there smiling. Even after all this time Brian blinded him with his brightness. It made all the other bullshit endurable.
"Yeah, don't they have meetings at the church on the next block? Call themselves Jesus Christ They're Faggots!"
"You've heard of it."
Dom stood up. "Gonna be this way a lot."
"Yeah."
Brian watched him with that teasing face he made when he tried to work Dom into a laugh. There wasn't a whole hell of a lot he wouldn't give up for that look or that smile. Everything they'd been through, together and alone, felt like a dream he'd had once, faded into meaningless, vague memory. The past didn't matter, just the future with Brian in it. Whatever happened, happened, and it would all be worth it.
"Don't know about you, but I figure it's worth it," Dom said.
Brian threw the shop rag inside the garage and closed the big door. "You and me both." He dug his car keys out of his pocket. "Come on, you said we were going to celebrate." Then he tossed the keys to Dom. "You're driving."
End
4/2/06
My gorgeous cover art by M'lyn. Please do not take or distribute in any way.