I don't own anything you recognize from the movies.

Story set after the events of the first movie. The other movies never happened.

A New Start

Vince woke up at the hospital. The memories came flooding back. The heist… Spilner saving him. Spilner being a cop.

Hospitals. If there's something Vince hated, it was. Groaning, he reached down and pulled the needle out of his hand before slowly sitting up. Where was the rest of the team? Why was he alone? Dom would never leave him alone especially not in a hospital. Or would he?

He swung his legs off the bed and slowly sat up. His bare feet hit the cold hospital floor and he felt himself get lightheaded and only then noticed the bandage on his arm and the blood that had vaguely seeped though the bandages. Not feeling any pain, he guessed he had been given a drug to dull the pain. Morphine, or some other shit.

Only seconds after getting out of the rather uncomfortable bed, the nurses rushed in hysterically, grabbing him by his arms trying to support him while attempting to ease him back onto the bed.

"Mr. Sawyer!" one of the nurses exclaimed, "What are you doing out of bed?"

"What the hell do you think?" Vince growled in response only to realize his dry throat made his voice less booming and threatening than usual. "I'm getting out of here!" he yelled the best he could. The nurses kept their hands on his upper arms as they continued to try to keep him still. He couldn't help but notice the nurse calling him by the name 'Sawyer', which made no sense to him whatsoever.

"Mr. Sawyer, you're in no condition of leaving the hospital. The doctor has not cleared you yet. And you've been in a mild coma for the last three weeks. You can't leave" the nurse tries to make him stay.

"I'm not staying, that's final!" Vince angrily growled the best he could as he pulled out of the nurses' grasp and grabbed his clothes out of the hospital closet in his room, making a mental note that someone had to have arranged for him to be there over a period of time. He stripped out of the hospital gown baring everything for the nurses to see. Being Vince he couldn't help but smirk when they went silent and he could have sworn he heard one of them whisper to the other, "oh my gosh…".

He walked on unsteady feet and forced his way through the barrier of nurses before heading out the door to the room. Well on his way out of the room he sees a handful of security guards headed down the hall and he hurries the best he can in the opposite direction, quickly finding the exit and heads straight for the ATM for money – figuring he can't go anywhere without a couple of bucks in his pocket. Thanking whoever's interested in hearing he makes his way home, knowing that it won't be more than a 45 minute walk.

The driveway in front of the house he grew up in is deserted except for his own car, the Maxima. He made his way up to the front door and unlocked it with a key he had fished up from underneath the steps to the porch. He sighed as he walked into the empty house and made his way to the kitchen hoping to find some signs of life. Well into the kitchen he opened the door to the fridge to see a six pack of Coronas sitting on one of the shelves together with a note.

"Hey Vince. If you're reading this, we're in Mexico. We're sorry we couldn't be there when you woke up. Unlike you, we weren't able to give ourselves a good enough 'alibi' to protect ourselves from being caught. We will be back as soon as things have settled. You're off the hook. The police don't have anything on you. Brian made sure of that. He never turned us in, and he even insisted on that he had never met you. The doctor, who took care of you at the hospital, owed him some favors, which is why you weren't reported. Out from what the police have got on you, there's not enough to reel you in, but just in case, stay out of the spotlight. That means no racing, no getting drunk at the clubs or messing around with someone else's woman."

Vince sighed and ran a shaking hand across his face before looking back down at the note, reading the last few lines.

"Unfortunately, Jesse did not survive. The damage was too severe and he wasn't able to pull through. We got the Jetta back through but it's pretty banged up. We figured we'd work on it together as a team when we get back and give it to his dad once he gets out of jail."

At the bottom of the note he could see the signatures of each of the members of the Team followed by a hurried scribbling below that "your cut is in the bank".

He curled the piece of paper up and threw it in the garbage bin before walking downstairs and passing out on his bed.

He wasn't able to sleep for long until the pain in his arm became too much to handle. He got up and grabbed whatever was in the small cabinet in the bathroom and swallowed them with a glass of water before stripping down and stepping into the shower letting a spray of icy cold water hitting his hard, muscular body. As soon as he'd finished showering he made his way back to his room to pull on a pair of jeans and his trademark shirts before turning on the TV and calling a local pizzeria for food.

Across the street, Megan Jo Connor parked her car; a pretty beat up Toyota and slowly got out. Dressed in baggy, low-riding, deep blue colored jeans and a yellow and red halter top that left little to the imagination she stretched once she rose from the seat and undid her raven black hair that had been pulled back tightly into a ponytail. She had just turned 19 and moved into the neighborhood soon after her birthday. Although she had only been living there for a few weeks, she had already developed a liking to the place. People minded their own business and that's how she liked it.

She had left Nebraska and her old life right after her parents' funeral. Soon after getting the news of the car accident that killed her parents she had decided that she had to get away and as soon as the funeral was over she had sold what she couldn't bring with her in the car and on the small trailer her car could haul and she had left the state, though she didn't travel far. On the road to California she had talked to a real estate agent on the phone, who had made all the arrangements for her to move into a new place.

She reached in the back of the car and grabbed her groceries before turning to enter her house. She glanced across the street as she closed the front door behind her and she couldn't help but notice that for the first time since she got there there was lights coming from inside of the neighbor house across the street. She shrugged and closed the door only to be met by her kitten, Zaathe.

Let me know what you think!