AN: hello hello. Welcome to my semi-new FatF:TD fic. I have rewritten it, and hopefully you enjoy reading me as much as I enjoyed writing it. * Note, this is actually a sequel, even though I haven't even come close to finish the first one. . . But maybe one day. Baha*

-(Disclaimer: I don't own Fast and the furious or any of the characters from the movies, and in writing this piece of fiction, I am making no money. It is purely for enjoyment purposes. I simply own my ideas and my characters. ) -

* Anyway, please, enjoy *

Chapter 1: Memories

The sun kissed the horizon, illuminating the sky with hues of oranges and yellows, I groaned, the morning sun caressing my flesh much like a lover would after a night of passion, slowly and softly warming the night's unforgiving chill from my exposed skin. My eye watching, but not quite seeing as I sat on the cold concrete of the balcony's edge. Only when the rays of light bounced off a window in the distance and danced into my eyes did I wince, my eyes slowly focusing out of the haze I had so often found myself falling into.

I let out a tut, shielding my eyes are the suns glorious rays continued to torment me as they bounced from window to window, making me all the more aware that dawn had in fact approached. Was it morning already?

'Damn', I silent scolded myself, letting out a sigh , pulling myself from my thoughts as my eyes fell to my side, onto a small glass of amber colored liquid. The liquid glistening as the suns rays flitted across it. I paused, uncertainty flickering across my face as I tried to recall if it was mine. I scoffed after a moment, of course it was mine, who else would be on my balcony, I attempted to assure myself. Quizzically, I picked up the freezing glass, the sides fogging from the heat of my hand as I held it to eye level, swirling the liquid slightly with a flick of my wrist. Shrugging, I drew it to my lips and threw my head back, tasting the bitter sting as if cascaded down my throat and warmed my empty belly like the fires of hell, all the while ignoring the ache I felt in my joints. I let out a sigh, a tiny ' tsk' leaving my lips at the bitter taste and burn that the liquor left, the feeling of warming momentarily canceling the aching limbs. I was sore. I had been out here, sitting in the cold, for hours, wrapped up so tightly in my thoughts that I wouldn't have known if someone had shot me dead. I chuckled at the thought, part of me saddened that it hadn't happened. ' No' I steeled, pushing the vexed thoughts from my mind as swiftly as I could manage, before I had time to comprehend them. Instead, I let my eyes sweep over the buildings in the distance, the glistening river just meters below creating a soothing, waterfallesque sound, which calmed my mind. That along with the liquor, lulling me into a peaceful trance, letting out a shaky breath, I reached inside my tanktops built in bra, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, placing one betwixt my lips and lighting it up with a zippo pulled from the same hiding place, which closed with a sharp 'clink'.
Setting both the pack and lighter upon the ground, I inhaled deeply, letting my eyes flutter closed as the sweet taste of nicotine danced across my taste buds like a sweet poison, filling my senses before blowing the smoke out through my nose.
I groaned, drawing in a deep breath. God, I felt like shit.
Raking my fingers through my disheveled bangs, I took another drag, stretching my naked thin limbs over the side of the balcony's scaffolds, pushing forward as to allow my legs to laze between the thin bars, and hang loosely, and carelessly over the edge as I leaned back, resting my weight on my arms as I allowed the cigarette to hang loosely between my lips, while basking in the morning warmth as it washed over my small form.
It felt nice against my chilled flesh and I silently shivered suddenly realizing how cold I hadn't realized I'd been.

Damn, I felt off. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I let out yet another sigh.

I hadn't slept in days. . . No, scratch that. I hadn't slept, like really slept in days. I'd nod off here and there, but it wouldn't last long, maybe 15 minutes, 20 if I was lucky... Not that lucky was the word I'd have used to describe it. And quite frankly, it was beginning to take its toll. I barely slept. Barely ate. Smoked most of the day ( around a half pack a day. Sometimes more, sometimes less ), drowned myself in water to keep hydrated, and munched on Mentos and mints to keep awake. But hell, at least my breath smelled great, at least I got some sort of positive perk out of it.
I blew the smoke out of my mouth as I blinked, unthinkingly pulling my left hand to my mouth, nipping but not quite pulling at the frayed cuticle of my thumb, the cigarette steadily burning down as it hung lazily between my index and middle fingers, seemingly forgotten for the moment, as my mind began to wonder yet again.
I'd been awake since the wretched dream woke me hours ago. No, I stopped myself swiftly with a unintentional jerk, not dream, Memory, I deadpanned, before taking another puff.

A memory, from that night.

The night that everything changed.

The night I changed.

Sighing, I hugged my knees to my chest, laying my head atop them, letting my raven locks shield my eyes. Just recalling the memory made everything in me burn. Even after 5 long years it still burned so badly, as if it had happened mere weeks, and not years ago.
I blinked slowly, feeling those god awful tears that forever refused to fall, stinging from behind my eyelids. God, what I wouldn't do to be able to cry, but it seemed my body was stronger than my mind, for it refused to allow such a weak act to occur. I wanted nothing more than to cry, to throw myself onto the bed and sob loudly, to throw things, anything, everything, break shit and after, just lie in bed forever, or at least till the pain subsided. . . But alas, I couldn't. No, not couldn't. I wouldn't allow myself to fall victim, no matter how badly I felt the need to, oh, and now more than ever did I feel the need. . .

It was like every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was his face. Smiling, frowning, grinning, smirking, or in pain. As the last passed through my mind, I couldn't help but clench my eyes tightly, my hand gripping my shirt over my heart.
God, it hurt.
I curled tighter into myself, ignoring as the cigarette fell from my fingers and down the 4 stories and into the gently flowing river below.

5 years, it had been 5 damn years.

5 years since the incident, that took his life.

1826 days since I have spoken to either Sean, Neela, or even Twink.

43824 hours since I'd moved from Tokyo, unable to handle being in a city that reminded me of nothing but him.

No, I flinched, managing to swiftly push all of that from my mind as I stood, making my way back through the small glass double doors that led from the small room I now called home ( at least for the time being ). Padding across the cold floor, my eyes raked over the unmade queen bed that took up nearly all the space the little room had to offer, leaving only room for a small night stand and dresser. The walls that were usually white were painted with the colors of the sunrise as they streamed through the opened balcony doors, beautifully colored shadows from the sun dancing through the glass splaying out across the wooden floor at odd intervals catching my attention. It wasn't much, but it did the job.

Glancing away, I drew in a deep breath as I grabbed a towel from the basket off on my bed in passing, stalking towards the small bathroom, flicking the switch, basking the small room in a dull, lifeless yellow glow, not even bothering to close the balcony doors as I started the shower, allowing the steam to rouse up as if angry, before stepping back and examining myself in the mirror.
Dear God.
I winced as my eyes skimmed across my reflection. My eyes scanning my entire being swiftly . . I looked absolutely ghastly. Never before had I seen such dark bags under my eyes, eyes that once held such light, such fire, now reduced to dull orbs of boring grey. My bleached blonde bangs weighted down upon my skull, stringy and greasy, gross to say the least. My once glowing skin, a dull, pale hue of honey due to the lack of sunlight, which as it turns out, made my once unnoticed freckles all the more noticeable.
I examined how the shirt I wore hung off my thin shoulders and drowned my small form before ending in a sea of fabric at the middle of my thighs. Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I pulled my shirt over my head, dropping it one the tiled floor beside my feet, once again examining. I looked a mess, weak, fragile. I looked pathetic. My ribs peaked through, protruding, straining against my flesh as if attempting escape, as well as with my hipbones and shoulder blades. I drew in a breath, tearing my scrutinizing gaze from the body I had abused, time and time again, which showed no less. I hopped in the shower, not quite being able to handle much more of observing myself.
An audible shiver made its way from between my lips as the first droplets of water hit my skin, feeling almost like a million nicks of razorblades across my flesh, over and over again.
Despite the steam that which clouded the bathroom, sticking to my lungs, making it hard to breath, it felt as if it had just been burrowed out of a frozen glacier in the middle of the pacific, it was beyond freezing. But I took no notice, closing my eyes, I rested my head back against the cold tile, allowing the water to run over my face, soak through my hair, matting it to my skull, and roll down my back, the water waving tresses dancing with the water, occasionally grazing the source of constant burning, cooling it. I groaned in relief as I reached up, my fingers shaking as they brushed against the slightly raised scars that stretched across my shoulder blades and ended just before the junctions where my back met my arms, the skin taut, tight and resembling broken blisters, or more appropriately, the face on the moon, cratered and uneven. I liked to think they resembled tiny wings of the sort, fanning out much like a small imps would when in flight.

At the feeling of the scars against my fingertips, bright oranges and yellows rip through my mind like a tidal wave on fire, forcing a wince and a jerk my head. Dammit, shivering, I bit my bottom lips as I allowed my arms to fall limp at my side as I unsuccessfully attempted to will the unwanted memories away.
Those burns, my only reminder that it really happened. . . Well and the dreams.
Almost out of habit, my mind went to him, plucking his imagine from my memory. . .

Brown eyes that always seemed to have a mischievous glint sparkling in them, lush raven hair that caressed his broad shoulders, sunkissed skin, almost like a surfer boy ( as I often used to tease him about). And that smile. At the thought of his smile, I felt something in me clench, and I squeezed my eyes shut, setting my lips into a tight line before they could even begin to tremble. The more I remembered, the more the unshed tears stung behind my eyelids. But I couldn't help it, I missed every little thing about him. I wanted to remember everything . . . But now, even the memories were beginning to fade. . .

I could barely remember what my name sounded like coming from his lips, and that alone killed me. 5 years ago, I learned to love my name. . . From the first time he said it and sent that roguish smile my way, and from then on, I loved it. . . Even though I would have never admitted that fact. Every time it flew from his lips, I felt my heart flutter, and I practically melted like butter. I let a lazed and sad smirk cross my face, how naïve.

I was torn from my thoughts by the sound of ringing. Distant, annoying, ringing.

Riiinnnnnggg, pause.

Riiiiinnnngggng, pause.

Riiiiinnngggng, pause . Riiiiiinnnnnggg.

Each buzz of unnecessary noise louder, and more obnoxious than the one before it.

"The telephone" I whispered as if rationalizing it to myself before reaching for the shower knobs, turning off the water, and stepping out, oblivious to the cold morning air that nipped at my skin as I wrapped myself in a towel. The ringing continued, growing louder as I stepped into the bedroom, my eyes lazily scouting across the room, looking for the telephone before landing on it sitting on the dresser.
Sighing, I walked slowly towards it, pausing only momentarily to collect myself before picking it up, pulling the receiver to my ear, waiting. . . Nothing.

". . . Hello" I answered after a few moments of silence as I reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out another cigarette, putting it between my lips, lighting up and taking a puff. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something felt off. I never got phone calls, hell; I wasn't even sure why I had a bloody phone in the first place.
"Hell-"I started again, exhaling the smoke, about to give the individual at the other end, a swift and brutal piece of my mind.

"Ciao" came a hesitant feminine voice in rich Italian.

I felt a smile creep to my lips as I brushed my wet bangs from my eyes. A small sigh of relief escaping as the familiar voice floated into my ears. "Ciao, Rosabella. Ho sentito che eri malato. Come ti senti?" I questioned as I took yet another puff, holding it in, letting the nicotine fill me up completely before I exhaled with a small sigh, all previous anxiety and hostility gone within seconds. Rosabella was the daughter of the land-lady of the apartment I had been staying in for the last few months. From what I could tell, she was a sweet girl, a bit nervous though, I often noticed that even after all the months I'd been here, she'd never once looked me in the eyes; she'd always look down or away, blushing adorably. She was always bringing me leftovers, when I came home late. Brining up my laundry when I forgot that I left it in the wash, bringing my mail up, etc. A real sweet kid.

". . . Yes, a slight cold." Came her nervous wavering voice, "But I'm fine now."

I could practically feel the heat of her blush through the phone, and I felt myself smile. "That's good, I'm happy to hear that. . ." I left the statement open, hoping she would catch the hint, Why she could be calling?

Then it hit me, and my eyes went wide . . .
The rent, shit.

"Oh my goodness, the rent" I smacked my forehead, throwing the towel swiftly from my form, my hands reaching for a pair of clean panties and feverishly pulling them up my legs "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot. I have it here on my dresser; I'll bring it down right away. ." I rambled, reaching and throwing on a bra that laid across my bed, snapping it in place skillfully, scolding myself internally for having forgotten something as important as that. I reached for a discarded shirt lying across my bed to throw on quickly, pausing only when she cut me off with a chuckle. I could almost hear her smile through the phone. Her laughter a light angelic sound that immediately made me pause my ramble, my nerves calming. "The rent is not due until Thursday of next week. . ."

"Oh" I chuckled, terribly embarrassed, ". . . Then what do I owe this conversation?"

She paused, and I found myself hoping I hadn't hurt her feelings with that last comment. I hope she didn't think me rude. She spoke after a few moments, her voice still soft "You have a phone call. . . Shall I put them through?"

I was silent for a moment, a look of disbelief crossing my face. A phone call, for me? "Yes please, thank you Rosa" I answered cautiously, taking a nervous puff of the cancer stick between my lips before flicking the ash into the ashtray on the bedside table.

She chuckled again and smiling, I waited patiently; taking another long drag from the cigarette perched between my lips before pulling it out and letting it sit between my fingers lazily. I heard as she clicked over, and then the sound of soft breathing took over the other line.

At first I was surprised, almost dropping my cigarette before collecting myself. Scoffing, I rolled my eyes; scowl making its way to my face. A bloody pervert, just what I fuckin needed.

"Look, mate" I growled out, enunciating the 't' at the very end, glaring daggers into the wall as I spoke, my tone hard, irritation seeping into every letter that left my lips "I'm not sure how you got this number, but you'd do well as to lose it before I find you and give you a beatin' " I hissed placing the cigarette between my lips once again.
Moments ticked by and nothing but silence from the other end.

That is, until a throaty chuckle sounded, "Nice to hear you voice, Baby"

I paused, my entire being freezing, as I took in a shaky breath, it was like everything stood still.

My mouth fell open, and the partially smoked cigarette fell from my lips, tumbling to the floor before dying out with a sizzling hiss (it must have fallen into the water that dripped from my hair). I felt my breath catch, and my heart skip.
How long had it been since I heard that name, since I'd heard that nickname?
Hell, how long had it been since I heard that voice, that deep rumbling voice that most would quiver away in fear from?
A chill raged through me like the bubonic plague as my knees buckled before giving out.

I fell back upon the bed, eyes wide, mouth open as I held the phone against my ear with trembling fingers. I felt the sting of tears spilling down my cheeks as his name left my mouth in a raspy whisper, in almost disbelief.

"Dom?"

I heard him chuckle on the other end, the sheer sound of it sending chills through me, and I could almost feel him smiling through the phone. "It's been a long time since I've heard your voice."

I nodded taking a breath through my nose as if he could see me, not at all trusting my voice not to crack as the emotions raged through me. But to my luck he continued, "We miss you, baby, I miss you"

That was it. It was like a flood gate broke somewhere deep inside me. I drew in a shaky breath and cupped my hand over my mouth to attempt to keep the sobs in. I could feel them coming, and I knew that they would hit me hard. The tears were always a first sign, then the trembling. . . Looking down I noticed my entire body shaking, and I drew my knees to my chest, and let it all out. . .

"I miss you too Dom" I cried out, releasing the lip that I had trapped between my teeth, letting the sobs flow from me in continuous tidal waves.

OoOoOoO

After a while, the sobbing subdued and we caught up.

The feeling was unreal, I felt almost weightless as we spoke. His deep voice having put me at ease, relaxing me like I hadn't felt in years. . . Since I left my old life behind in Tokyo. . .

We spoke like we had never stopped. Like I hadn't distanced myself and locked myself away those five years ago. We talked about Mia, and her baby boy, whom she named Vinny in memory of Vincent. About Brian, and finally about his new on again off again lady friend. And about life in general, and it felt nice. I had forgotten how great it felt to actually hold a conversation with someone after so long of being alone.

I had forgotten how much I missed it. . .

AN: Well, I felt the need to rewrite it, and I do enjoy this rewrite a bit more than the original, even though only a bit was actually changed. Baha. :)

Don't forget to review, remember, the more reviews, the faster the new chapters will be written and released. Tell me your thoughts, criticism always welcome, but please, do not be rude. And rest assured, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve with this one.

- MorbidLittleBirdie