Even in pain as he was, the sharp stabbing in his gut from when the car had impacted Fenix and something cutting into him, Brian fought to stay conscious. It was the smile on Dom’s face, the one finally directed at him again, the one that said they were okay again, that had him struggling against the darkness. He heard sirens getting closer and knew they didn’t have long before the world separated them.

Reaching out and gripping Dom’s arm, he asked urgently, “Are we okay?”

Dom put Brian’s hand back on the wound, covering it with his own and adding pressure which sparked more agony through him. When the stars faded and he could breathe again, Brian focused on Dom’s worried face enough to hear, “We’re good, Bri, just stay with me, okay?”

“Where’m I gonna go?” Brian asked, fuzzy, darkness encroaching. “Dom, are we okay? You have to tell me before they come. Might not get another chance.”

The worry deepened on Dom’s face and he said, “We’re okay, Brian. We’re good, more than good, I promise.”

Brian stared into Dom’s dark eyes and needed to know, had to know if everything was okay. He told Dom thickly, “I didn’t do it again, couldn’t. Wrong to be with her ‘cause I love you. Hated myself for that. Dom, are we okay? I’m sorry I lied. Didn’t lie this time. Are we okay?”

Dom cupped his face and pressed his lips to Brian’s forehead before saying firmly, “We’re okay, Brian. I forgive you, I swear.”

The words sank into Brian like healing, cool water and he relaxed, smiling at Dom even as he struggled to stay conscious. Then he frowned, trying to remember if he’d asked Dom’s forgiveness or not. He’d sworn to himself that he would, but all he could remember was seeing the car coming right at him and knowing that Dom was behind the wheel, that Dom needed to kill Fenix or he’d never be at peace over Letty’s murder.

Forcing his eyes open again, Brian asked, “Dom? Are we okay? I’m sorry, so sorry about everything.”

The words made Dom’s eyes close in an expression of pain for some reason. Before Brian could beg forgiveness, the sirens mixed with the sound of men shouting and he looked around the desert to find them surrounded by white immigration trucks and cars. Men were shouting for them to get down and Brian wanted to laugh, because it wasn’t like he could get any lower. He’d killed his best friend’s girl, even if he hadn’t pulled the trigger, and hurt his only friend’s sister, broke her heart.

Dom bellowed, “I’ve got an FBI agent down here! He needs medical attention! Get a God damned doctor here now!” and then leaned in close to Brian and said against his ear, “You don’t fuckin’ die on me, O’Conner, understand? I keep what’s mine and you’re not goin’ any God damned where, you got me?”

And then Dom was gone, replaced by professionally concerned looking men he didn’t know. The world wavered and then resolved only in flashes…Dom being handcuffed; the newcomers lifting Brian onto a backboard; the inside of an ambulance; Dom face down on a car hood just before the ambulance door shut.

That was when Brian stopped fighting and let the darkness take him.

* * * *

When the cars skidded to a halt around them and the shouting began, the shouting for him to get down, Dom did some shouting of his own. The blood under his hand was slick and warm and there was way too much of it. It didn’t take long for a couple of EMTs to push him out of the way and he moved off willingly, praying it wasn’t too late. The way Brian had kept repeating himself, as if he honestly didn’t remember that three seconds earlier Dom had already forgiven him, it scared the piss out of him. So did the way Brian just slid to the ground without him there to hold him up.

It took everything Dom had not to give in to the instinct to fight when agents pulled him away from Brian and pushed him facedown on the hood of a car. Dom kept his eyes locked on Brian as the EMTs worked efficiently to first stop the bleeding and then load him into the ambulance. Just before they closed the doors, Brian’s head shifted and he looked right at Dom, his eyes clear and pleading, as if for forgiveness. It just about killed Dom that he couldn’t go there and tell Brian as often as he needed to hear it that there was nothing left to forgive.

All the anger and betrayal that he’d been carrying the last five years were gone and Dom didn’t know when it had happened. The first time he’d seen Brian again, in Park’s apartment while dangling the jerkoff out the window, the rage had definitely been there. And again when they’d been at Campos’ street HQ, getting instructions. And it had definitely been there when Brian’s car had shot passed him and Dom had hit him from behind to take the lead.

Somewhere between admitting to Campos that they knew each other and “giving” Brian his new ten-second car , holding the door open for him and getting that grin in return...

Rough hands shook him out of his thoughts and one of the agents shoved him into the back of the car. With a dazed, but conscious Campos. Grinning fiercely, Dom looked at him and rumbled, “You and me need to talk.”

Campos shouted for help at the top of his lungs, but the door didn’t open before Dom had twisted onto his side and kicked the bastard repeatedly in the chest and gut. They dragged Campos out and tossed him into the back of another car. Pushing himself upright, Dom chuckled and even to himself, it was an evil, satisfied sound. If there was any justice in the universe, he and Campos would end up in the same prison and he could give Letty some real vengeance.

And then he could see her in his head, clear as day, rolling her eyes at him and retorting, “What vengeance? Don’t be a dick, Dom. I’m dead. You’re just looking for payback and it’s not a good look on you. Fenix? Okay, he killed me and I’m glad you nailed the bastard, but Campos? Sure, he’s the one behind everything, but if you kill him in jail, they’re just going to keep you there the rest of your life and all those other people he hurt and killed don’t get their vengeance. Let it go, Papa. Move on, okay?”

The words in his head sounded just like Letty, as if her ghost were paying him a visit, and Dom’s eye closed. His fists clenched tight, nails digging into his palms as he silently admitted, I don’t want to let it go. I miss you, baby.

As if in answer, there was only silence.

* * * *

It was the sound of a steady pinging noise that made it through the fog first, pulling Brian from the comfortable numbness. His side ached, but didn’t actively hurt anymore. His entire body felt bruised and his head throbbed unpleasantly, but it was the added impetus to get him to open his eyes and take in the hospital room.

Brian rubbed his eyes clear and looked around to find Mia sound asleep on an uncomfortable chair beside the bed. It warmed him to know that she cared enough to stay with him. At least the fiasco in the kitchen hadn’t turned her against him again. It had felt good, when they’d kissed, great really, but the closer they’d gotten to having sex, the more he knew it was wrong. It would be repeating an already horrible mistake; using her as a substitute for Dom. He’d pulled away when she’d reached for his zipper and they’d had an embarrassing non-conversation that took all of a minute for her to run into the bathroom and slam the door shut.

Clearing his throat, he rasped, “Mia? You awake?”

She jolted upright with big, startled eyes, and then smiled broadly on seeing him. Leaning forward, she took his hand and exclaimed, “Brian! It’s about time you woke up!”

“How long have I been out?” he asked.

“Three days.”

Astonished, Brian repeated, “Three days?”

Nodding, Mia explained, “First day was the surgery and recovery, but then you just wouldn’t wake up. They were afraid you had brain damage during the crash and you were in ICU for the first twenty-four hours. There was no sign of swelling or a clot, though, so they moved you here. I told the nurses we were engaged so I could stay with you.”

Brian frowned and questioned, “What about Dom?”

She snorted and observed, “That’s about three minutes longer than I thought it would take you to ask about him. He’s fine, Brian, you’re the one in the hospital, remember?”

Thinking about Dom in prison sent a shiver of unease through him and he asked, “Where’d they take him?”

Sobering, Mia answered, “Lompoc. I went to see him once you were out of surgery and he told me to stay with you, that he was fine.”

“Was he?” Brian pressed. “Fine?”

Mia sighed, her gaze distant as she told him, “He’s okay for now, but…Brian, they’re charging him with about ten different things and all he has is a public defender. He gave all the money he had to Letty, who spent it fixing up that damn car. I don’t see how he can get out of spending the rest of his life in that horrible place. And…it’ll kill him Brian, you know it will.”

Brian did know that. The fact that Dom had stayed with him, making sure he was all right, it still boggled his mind more than a little. He didn’t remember much of anything other than seeing that car coming right at him and grabbing Fenix so he couldn’t get away. Brian felt nauseas abruptly, realizing that he’d helped Dom kill a man out of vengeance.

“Brian? You okay?” Mia asked, moving to sit on the bed.

Forcing down the nausea, Brian swallowed rapidly and nodded. It wasn’t like he didn’t already have blood on his hands; it was just the first time it hadn’t been in the line of duty. “I’ll be fine, I just…could I have some water?”

Mia immediately turned to pour water into a cup for him, holding it for him so that he could drink without spilling.

He offered a wan smile and said, “Thanks, Mia. And…thanks for being here. You didn’t have to.”

Combing her fingers softly through his hair, Mia murmured, “Yes, I did. We’re family, Brian. I know…well, it’s pretty obvious now why you and me didn’t work and I’m glad now that you stopped us in the kitchen. I won’t say I don’t have regrets, because I do. I think we could still be really good together if you gave us a chance, but…well, Dom’s a hard act to compete with. I knew you’d get pulled into his orbit, I just didn’t realize how strong that pull would be.”

Brian caught her hand and kissed the palm in silent apology, which was how the doctor found them when he walked in.

“Agent O’Conner! It’s very good to see you awake!” the man exclaimed, striding to the bed.

Looking at the newcomer, Brian released Mia’s hand and asked, “So. How long ‘til I get sprung?”

He had a lot to do and spending time in the hospital wasn’t on the list.

* * * *

Lompoc was as gray and lifeless and vicious as Dom remembered. There were new faces and old faces and missing faces either dead or released. His cell was small and miserable, but otherwise empty, which he counted a blessing in this time of overcrowded prisons. Dom spent a lot of time there, alone, avoiding the other inmates as much as possible. The other time he spent in the library and the yard, always with his back to an innocuous piece of wall. It was only a matter of time before he would have to put someone down, but Dom drew it out as long as possible.

A week after he was arrested and remanded to the prison, obviously deemed a flight risk, Dom got his second visitor. Mia had shown up the day after his imprisonment, but he’d told her to stay with Brian. She’d called a few days before to say that Brian was finally out of the coma and anxious to get out of the hospital and Dom had told her to make sure he didn’t leave before he was healed. He never wanted to see Brian like that ever again, his gut still clenched in fear when he thought about that time in the dessert.

Walking down the gray hall towards the visitors’ room, Dom was surprised when the guard pushed him passed it to a private room further down. Inside was a man in his mid-forties, wearing a suit. Frowning, Dom guessed, “I already got a lawyer.”

The man smiled briefly and held out his hand, “I’m Gary Washer and was hired by Agent O’Conner. He felt your current lawyer might not be who you need to explain the mitigating circumstances of your arrest.”

Dom shook the man’s hand, nonplussed. “Well, you got the vocab of a decent lawyer. What’s your record?”

“I win more than I lose,” Washer replied. “But your case is…well, it’s pretty near impossible. I know Brian’s hoping that his testimony will help, and it won’t hurt, but given the array of charges, plus your history and outstanding warrants from other countries even, I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass and say we’re going to win. I’ll do my damnedest, but I can’t promise you anything, which I already told Brian.”

Dom liked him. “All right. So how do we fight this?”

* * * *

Dom’s third visitor was a week after his second and this one waited in the regular visitors’ room. Looking somewhat worse for wear, but in one piece, Brian sat at one of the tables. He was alert and aware, which was a damn sight better than the last time Dom had laid eyes on him. Striding across the room, Dom sat across from Brian and just stared at him for a good minute, getting stared at in return.

Brian finally cleared his throat and nodded at him with a simple, “You look good. No fights yet, huh?”

Dom’s lips twisted to the side. “Not yet. Washer seems a good guy.”

Nodding, Brian confirmed, “One of the best. Good thing I saved up for a rainy day.”

Dom grinned at that and said, “Always knew you were a Boy Scout.”

“Not hardly,” Brian muttered, looking away.

Dom wanted to reach across the table and touch Brian, grip his hand or his shoulder or his arm, something, anything to tell him that it was all right. Even aside from the crazy want clawing to get out, Dom had always needed to show people how he felt through touch. Stomping down on the need, he stated, “You and me are good, Bri. You don’t owe me anything, never mind guilt. Letty…she was her own woman…working to clear my name like she did wasn’t something you could’ve pushed her into even if she hadn’t approached you first.”

Brian’s hand scrubbed over his head and he replied, “I know, Dom, it’s just…she’d still be alive if I hadn’t said yes.”

Dom snorted. “No, she’d’ve just done it on her own some other way. At least…at least she had you watching her back.”

“Fat lot of good that did.”

The self-loathing was more than Dom could take. He gripped Brian’s arm and squeezed it until the other man’s gaze met his. “Her death was not your fault, Brian, you hear me? Letty knew her own mind and made her own decisions.”

Brian’s face softened a little, the guilt and pain that had etched into it lessening just a hair. A faint smile lifted his mouth and he said softly, “Thanks, Dom.”

“And in case you don’t remember the first five times I told you out there in the dessert, we’re good, Brian. We’re more than good, okay?” Dom told him, quiet but firm.

Blue eyes searched his for something and a flush crept over Brian’s face as he nodded and repeated, “Thanks, Dom.”

Not wanting to give any of the other cons in the room a chance to correctly interpret the way Dom’s hand lingered on Brian, he withdrew it and wished he could do a lot more than just squeeze Brian’s arm. Turning away from the subject deliberately, Dom asked, “So how are you keeping yourself busy these days?”

There was understanding and an echoing want in Brian’s eyes as he steered the conversation to everyday life.

* * * *

The good and bad news all rolled up was that Dom’s trial took forever. Between the local cops, the Feds, and even some out of country dickering over jurisdiction, it was three months before Dom even saw the inside of a courtroom. Brian used that time to dig out the Charger from the tunnel and bring it back to the house to work on. Mia had been pissed when she saw it, to go by her thin-lipped expression, but Brian had to take what little was left of the car and restore it for Dom.

All he had to work with was the burned out frame, which was why the three months of lawyers arguing was a definite plus. It took that long just to track down the parts he needed to rebuild, never mind actually buy them and get them in. The garage was filled with car repair equipment again and he spent all his time not at work, there. IA had cleared and reinstated him about a month after the whole thing went down, even though Brian refused to cooperate or kiss ass. He was pretty sure he had Penning to thank for his job. For the time being, Brian had decided to stay with the FBI, at least until he could testify on Dom’s behalf in court. It would look better if he was still actively an agent when that time came, after all.

Tego and Don showed up about a month before the start of the trial, taking up space in the garage and filling Brian and Mia in on some of the crazy thefts they’d done with Dom and Letty and Han. Brain was appalled by some of the stunts they’d pulled, not the least of which was nearly getting flattened by an oil truck when the driver caught on to getting robbed. They helped with rebuilding the car, taking some of the burden off Brian to get it all done himself, working during the day when he wasn’t able to.

When the arguing finally stopped and the different departments started working together, the charges were left to the Feds. Brian wasn’t surprised, but he wasn’t happy about it, either. They were the most serious charges and would be hard to beat. Gary was good, but the evidence wasn’t such that Brian could make go away this time. Not that he’d been able to do much the first time around, but he wasn’t able to do squat this time. The prosecution didn’t want him anywhere near the case, his loyalties to the Toretto family now well-documented.

Brian knew that the real test of his evolving code wouldn’t come until the verdict was delivered. Until then, he did his best at work and in the garage. He visited Dom once a month, keeping most of the contact to phone calls. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know one of Dom’s visitors was a federal agent. Mia kept him informed as to how Dom actually looked, which ran between, ‘pissed,’ ‘tired,’ and ‘bruised.’ It was the last that kept him awake at night, staring into the darkness and wishing he could get Dom out of there.

The phone calls were all that kept him sane. It seemed backwards for him to say that Dom was his lifeline when he was free and Dom behind bars, but it was true. The days merged together without anything to differentiate them in his mind. He and Mia grew closer, true friends this time around. It helped to have Tego and Don around, but Dom grounded him and without the other man’s presence, Brian had returned to that gray life where nothing really mattered.

Finally, the first day of the actual trial came. It was a small, closed courtroom without a jury box and that made Brian very, very nervous. On the one hand, they didn’t have to worry about a jury being swayed by Dom’s matter-of-factly intimidating looks, especially dressed in that damned orange jumper. On the other, the Judge didn’t seem all that easily swayed and Brian prayed they hadn’t made a mistake in going for a directed verdict.

He took a leave from work for the duration of the trial. Penning didn’t ask when, or if, he’d be back. Stasiak had smirked as Brian had left the office and it had been a close call as to whether or not Brian would slug him again. Sophie had looked sad at his departure, but all Brian could think was, Almost there, almost done, one way or the other.

And now he sat in the ‘audience’ area of the courtroom with his arm around Mia’s shoulders. They were three weeks in and Brian still hadn’t been called as a witness. The defense hadn’t even begun to present its case yet. It was torture to see Dom in that damned jumpsuit day-in and day-out, the stiff set of his shoulders and the unrelenting, impassive way he looked at whoever sat the witness stand. Brian could see where a directive verdict was good, because he couldn’t imagine any juror not being scared of Dom the way he was now.

At least he doesn’t have any tats, Brian thought inanely.

The day’s proceedings wrapped up finally and when Dom stood to be let out of the courtroom, he paused and looked at Brian. On his feet before he even thought to be, purely in response to Dom’s dark eyes asking for something, Brian walked to the barrier and asked flashed his badge at the guard, asking, “Hey, can you give us a second?”

The guard looked at him suspiciously, but nodded and stepped all of two feet away.

Brian didn’t care. He just asked Dom, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Dom rumbled. “But if you get a chance, check out the neighborhood, will you?”

Not the home neighborhood, so Dom had to mean Lompoc. Thinking about the various people Dom had pissed off over the years, Brian nodded and said, “I will. I promise.”

Neither of them protested when the guard returned and moved Dom along. It wouldn’t have done any good, anyhow. Worried now, Brian wondered if Captain Tanner was still friends with the warden at Lompoc.

* * * *

Things were okay, not great, but okay, until Tran showed up. Dom minded his own business and the other cons ignored him, other than a couple who didn’t know any better at first. Then Tran got busted for drugs or something and they were suddenly breathing the same air and things were definitely not okay anymore. Before, watching his back had been impersonal. Now, it was damn personal and he expected to get a shiv in it daily.

Dom made sure not to be alone anywhere, especially the showers. Tran and his buddies eyed Dom from across the cafeteria and in the yard. Everywhere he looked, they were just watching him. Unlike the first time he’d been Inside, Dom knew how to be patient; he knew how not to let the waiting drive him insane.

They moved on him the day after he talked to Brian, cornering him in a suddenly empty hallway. Also unlike last time he’d been Inside, Dom knew how to fight back. He put down two of the three before Tran himself got involved and they were still trading punches when the guards showed up. Since it was obviously three against one, it was Tran and his buddies who ended up in solitary; which was good, because he didn’t want to miss his own trial.

Washer wanted to move him to protective custody for the duration of the trial, but Dom knew better. Moving would be a sign of weakness and since he figured that he’d be Inside the rest of his life, he didn’t want to make that mistake. So he nursed bruised knuckles and some bruised ribs for a few days and then the grapevine made sure to tell him Tran and his buddies got moved to federal custody.

Dom went to court same as every other day, but made sure to catch Brian’s eye on the way out that afternoon. He nodded and flashed Bri a little smile to let him know things were cool, getting a blatantly relieved look in return. It was then that the low-level want surged forward, kicking him in the gut. He wanted to grab Brian and shove him against the nearest hard surface for some serious tonsil hockey. Dom forced the want back down where it had come from and walked out of the courtroom.

Finally, it was time for Washer to do his thing. He cross-examined with the best of them, casting doubt wherever he could and throwing technicalities around like they were rainbows. And then Brian got up on the witness stand and he was treated to the sight of Brian as a passionless FBI agent. He’d just about gotten used to the darker hair that only glinted gold in direct sun and the somewhat dimmed blue eyes; watching the other man on the stand without the list bit of emotion…

Dom didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

Brian recounted the entire story from start to finish and even managed to tell the truth for about ninety-five percent of it. And it wasn’t even that he lied the other five percent, either. He just shifted the point of view a hair so that it seemed like Dom had been working with Brian at Park’s apartment, so that it looked like they’d deliberately raced against each other to get to the open spot on Campos’ team.

“Because there was always a chance one of the other drivers could beat us individually,” Brian commented, managing to sound humble. “Mr. Toretto and I are about equal in driving skill, but the other drivers were an unknown and one of us had to make that team.”

Dom grinned to himself and made a note to tell Brian he was still a Buster at some point, if only to make those blue eyes spark with indignation.

Nothing the prosecutor said to Brian changed his story a bit. Nothing flustered Brian, not even insults and questions about his own spotty record. And the prosecutor dug up a lot of shit that Dom had never known. Like finding out that Brian had gotten canned from LAPD after “losing” Dom and the subsequent stint at the FBI turning sour a few times, at least how the prosecutor made it seem. And then the sly innuendo that Brian had taken off with a bunch of drug money from a Florida gig.

And then Dom wondered where Brian had gotten the money to fund Washer and hid another grin as he thought, Saved for a rainy day, huh, Bri?

No matter what the prosecutor threw at Brian, he remained calm and dead-set in his testimony, which gave it the air of irrefutable truth. When he finally stepped down from the stand, Dom caught his gaze and wanted to smile or reach out or say, “Thank you,” but was afraid any of that would taint things somehow.

Brian brushed Dom’s shoulder with his hip on the way by, the contact fleeting, but warm. Dom looked over at Washer to see if they might actually have a chance after Brian’s testimony. The man offered a nod and a smile and Dom relaxed, just a little.

* * * *

Three weeks after Brian’s testimony, Dom stood to receive his judgment. The world seemed to go silent as the judge spoke about one good thing not wiping away a lifetime of bad choices. As soon as he heard that, he knew. Washer’s hand gripped Dom’s shoulder after the pronouncement of twenty-five years to life in prison and when he turned to look at Mia and Brian, he found her alone. Brian had disappeared.

It was like a kick in the gut, that empty chair. Through everything, Brian had been there like a rock, holding Mia, comforting her where Dom couldn’t. He’d given everything he could to defend Dom from choices no one could take back and it hadn’t mattered. In the end, Dom wasn’t surprised by the empty chair, not when he thought about it. Brian had been betrayed by the system he’d served for so long and couldn’t face the end, even though Dom knew that justice had been served.

“Dom! Dom, we’re going to appeal this,” Mia exclaimed, reaching out for him. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Dom smiled at her briefly as the guard led him out of the courtroom and then left him in the holding cell. He sat in the back of the medium sized cell, on the bunk in the corner, and didn’t look at any of the other guys in there. Twenty-five years was a life even if he eventually got out, though he probably deserved it with all the shit he’d done, Dom couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life in Lompoc. He’d seen the lifers and they were like ghosts, even the ones who were still fighting and pissed that they would never leave.

That’s me now, Dom thought, numb. I’m a lifer.

He was abruptly glad that Brian had been gone when he’d turned around. Dom didn’t want to see the pity that would have been on that too-expressive face. He hoped that Brian would forget all about him, that he would get with Mia and have a bunch of kids and never come to visit.

Maybe if they had a life together, the loss of his wouldn’t matter so much.

* * * *

Brian was staring at the Charger when he heard Mia walk up the driveway to stand behind him. The Charger was finished and gleamed black and intimidating in the depths of the garage. There really was something…more…about the car, something that sent a shiver down Brian’s spine to land square in his gut. She’d been rebuilt three times now. First, after the crash that had killed the elder Toretto; second, after the stupid race between Dom and Brian where she’d been rolled over and over again; third, after an impact in the tunnel that would have been the end of a lesser car. There’d barely been enough left after the explosion to bring her back, but he’d done it.

“Don’t.”

Brian continued to stare at the car.

“It’s cursed, Brian. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not you, it’s that damned car.”

That, he could believe. She missed her true Master. Brian had healed her, but Dom owned her heart and soul of living metal. It was palpable to him, just how much Dom and the Charger belonged together.

“There’s nothing we can do, Brian, except appeal.”

Brian turned at that and saw Mia look as defeated and exhausted as she’d been the day Jesse had been killed. He closed the distance and pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head as he said simply, “They’ll never set him free, Mia. Never. I know these people better than you ever could and it will never happen. The only way he’s ever going to see outside those walls again is if we go get him.”

Mia shoved him away and shouted, “Are you crazy?! Do you even hear yourself?!”

Calm, feeling certainty lock into place as he realized exactly what he had to do, Brian told her, “I know my code now, Mia, and Dom’s it. You’re it. Letty was it. My code is family and I will protect my family from anyone, or anything, that tries to hurt them. I’m getting him out, Mia. And if I fail and they throw me in with him, well, at least there’ll be someone to watch his back.”

Throwing her hands in the air, Mia snapped at him, “You are insane! You and Dom both! Under the spell of that damned car! And each other. I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

Brian smiled crookedly at that and said, “If it helps, I can’t believe I’m saying it.”

“Oh yes, that helps a lot Brian,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. Then she took a breath and said, “Okay! Okay. When and where?”

He blinked at her, startled.

She poked him in the chest. “Like I’m going to let you do this on your own? Please.”

Looking back at the Charger, Brian mused, “We’re going to need more cars.”

* * * *

Dom wound up overnight in the holding cell thanks to some kind of transfer screw up. Washer showed up the next morning yelling at the guards, which Dom appreciated, but thought was a little overboard. He leaned against the bars and told Washer philosophically, “It’s just a different set of bars.”

Washer glared at him and said, “We’re going to fight this, just like your sister said. I’m going to file an appeal this afternoon.”

Gripping the other man’s shoulder through the bars, Dom told him, “Thanks, Greg.”

“Yeah, well, just watch your back in there,” Washer grumbled. “I’ll see you next week to go over everything.”

Dom nodded and went back to his place on the cot in the back. It was another hour before the guards came back and chained them for transport. He shuffled along with the rest of the cons, climbing into the bus and confirming his number before going to the back of the bus to an empty seat. It seemed to take forever for the bus to get going, but Dom was beyond caring about things like when buses ran.

They were somewhere on an empty road when something nudged at the edge of his hearing; something familiar. He didn’t bother to look around; there wouldn’t be anything to see in the vast nothing of central California. The guy next to him turned a little to look out the window but suddenly, Dom didn’t have to look to know exactly what was driving up beside the bus. He knew that engine better than any other thing in the world.

A smirk lifted his lips and Dom settled back in the seat to wait. From the sound of it, Brian was driving the Charger, Mia was in her speedy little Honda, and…he laughed a little under his breath as he realized Tego and Don were in the Trans Am. He heard Brian and Mia go by to either side of the bus and listened carefully to the Trans Am, which paced along the left.

The bus honked several times and the driver hit the brakes twice before swerving to the left and then back into the lane. From the way the driver kept hitting the brakes, lightly now, Dom knew someone was in front, probably Brian, making the bus slow down or risk hitting the car and getting into an accident. The windows were bulletproof, so it was likely that the driver and his partner thought that they could call for help and then just wait, safe, until help arrived.

He probably could have except a few minutes after the bus stopped, Dom heard the familiar hiss of a butane torch and chuckled again as flame hit metal. Shotguns went off and the bus shuddered as tires were blown out on all sides while the torch continued to melt through the front door. Peering at the guards so far at the front, he saw the men holding guns on the door and Dom frowned, wondering how Brian planned to get around that.

A creaking noise from behind surprised Dom into turning around to find the emergency door had been pried open. Tego’s grinning face appeared and he climbed up, tossing a key at Dom while Don kept a gun trained on the other cons with a finger to his lips. Dom unlocked his chains and cuffs and then quickly jumped out of the bus.

Running to the front, he pulled open the driver’s side door to the Charger and slipped inside, the seat supporting him like she always had. Dom ran his hands over the steering wheel and revved the engine. About thirty seconds later, Brian opened the passenger door and dropped inside with a wild grin on his face. Unable to resist, Dom grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him in for a short, hungry kiss.

Brian kissed back, just as hungry, and then bit Dom’s lip and let out a whoop of joy before exclaiming, “C’mon! Let’s get out of here! We’ve got the jammer going, so he can’t call for help, but they’ll send someone to investigate when the bus doesn’t show up.”

Dom revved the engine and then let her off the brakes, the Charger leaping forward with a squeal of tires and the smell of burning rubber. The force of it slammed him back into the seat and her front end lifted in the air while the back tires propelled them forward. Letty’s cross hung from the rearview mirror, gleaming in the sunlight as they drove a hundred miles an hour away from the bus towards the border.

When Brian took his free hand, Dom laced their fingers together and squeezed tight.