Okay guys so… I decided to do a little series. Not sure how long it will be, but it does have a timespan between the sixth film and the seventh. If you note, at the end of six, Jack is a baby, under a year old, though maybe close to a year old. In the seventh Brian is dropping him off at what I'm assuming is preschool. I don't think the kid is quite in Kinder yet, but you can start preschool at three years old, so that means at minimum, two years have passed. And Letty still doesn't remember things. Now the events of the seventh film do change that, as we know, but I like to think she's been having at least the tiny flashes before then. And I imagine that Dom and the others were trying to take her places to do things that she might remember. I also imagine that after two years of that… anyone would start to get frustrated. So, this series will focus on those missing years, primarily around Letty, heavily Dom/Letty with some emphasis on her relationships with Mia and Brian as well. I hope you enjoy it!

Week One – Year One

She'd been home for days now and it still felt more than a little surreal.

That's a feeling she was used to though. She remembered when Owen took her from the hospital, to meet his crew. She could remember… not remembering anything. Feeling lost. Holding onto the one thing she did have, which was driving. At least that had always been a constant. Turned out it was a deep part of her life for reasons she hadn't known. Couldn't remember. Wasn't that strange that the girl… the woman Dom and the others told her about would have that so innately in her blood that it would be the only thing to stick when everything else was gone.

Mia had taken her on a tour of the place. It was nice… it felt homey. But she didn't remember it. Not the faded old couch in the living room, or the photos of Dom and Mia's parents crowding the walls. Mia said she'd helped them repaint the kitchen… but she didn't remember that. The yellow suited the other woman though, it seemed. They'd had a lot of barbeques in the yard and she couldn't… remember a single one. Though there were pictures and pictures. And she looked so happy in most of them. She looked so young in most of them. In fact, it was sometimes easy to tell herself that it had been someone else's life. She didn't look like that girl. She didn't know that girl.

It was like she'd woken up and started a new life the moment Letty Ortiz had supposedly lost hers.

She knew Dom… and to some extent the others, were all hoping she'd start to remember things. Hell, she was hoping she'd start to remember things. But she was also determined not to waste the time trying to recapture something that was lost. She could make new memories in the meantime. Time didn't stand still just because you needed to catch up. Life didn't stand still.

Especially not with people all around her.

It was a bit strange how easily they integrated her into their lives. As if she belonged there. And to them… she supposed that she did.

A few days after they'd been back Mia dragged her upstairs, pulled boxes out of a closet in the spare room. They were all labeled with her name. "It's your stuff," the other woman told her. "Clothes mostly. There's some other things in the garage. But… well we couldn't bring ourselves to get rid of it after and it's just been in storage with everything else this whole time."

It hadn't even been a question that she'd stay there at the house, just an assumption that everyone seemed to make. Mia made up the bed in the spare room while she sorted through the boxes.

"I know Dom would rather you stay with him…" Mia said, glancing over at her. "But just in case you want some space you can use this room."

"Thanks," Letty muttered, dubiously eyeing some of her fashion choices. "Mia you probably could have tossed the stuff that went out of style over a decade ago…"

Mia laughed. "It's all yours to toss. But there's a few things in there I think you might want to keep."

In the end she ended up sorting the stuff she was tossing into one box and things to keep in the other. Mostly pairs of old jeans, some stuff that looked like she'd worn working at the garage, coveralls and old tank tops. A very worn and faded navy shirt that said "Toretto's" across the back. Dom's name was sewn in a patch over the pocket. Perhaps something she'd liberated from him once. The fabric had been worn until it was soft against her skin and she set it aside. In the second box she found some newer stuff. Or at least not nearly as old. Jean shorts and swimsuits, a dress she couldn't imagine herself wearing carefully bundled up. She folded them all up and put them aside to keep before folding the box back up.

"I'm heading down to make dinner," Mia said, straightening up. "Come down when you're ready."

Nodding, Letty cast her gaze around the room. It looked like it could be any room… anywhere. It didn't look or feel familiar. There wasn't much in there, an old dresser and a nightstand of the same refinished wood, a basic full-sized bed that Mia had fitted with blue sheets and tucked a flowered comforter over. Had she stayed in this room before? Had it belonged to someone else?

Sighing she pushed herself to her feet. She could ask Dom or Mia. But in the grand scheme of her life, was that really important? It was just one stupid thing she didn't remember. Did it matter if she never did?

She shrugged the work shirt on over her shoulders. The fabric fell soft against her skin, and under the must of storage it still smelled faintly of grease and motor oil. It fell just past her hips, the short sleeves hitting her near the elbow, obviously far too big for her and she brushed her fingers over the name sewn over the pocket. What sort of woman had Letty been? What did they even have in common, aside from a name and the way they reacted behind the wheel of a car?

"Hey," Dom's voice at the door interrupted her thoughts and she startled, looking like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar. He was looking at the shirt she wore and she struggled to look nonchalant, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

"Hey," she replied.

"Mia said she set up the spare room for you," he said, looking around.

Letty shrugged. "I was just going through the boxes…" She gave him a look. "Can't believe you kept that stuff."

"I wasn't really thinking about going through anything and packing it away," he replied. "Wouldn't have wanted to if I had been. I didn't exactly have an easy time letting go."

She chuckled. "I think the fact that we're standing here now is proof enough of that."

He caught her by the wrist, turned her hand over, thumb brushing against the raised skin of the small scar there. "Wanna see something?" he asked.

"You're not trying to use that 'I'll show you my bedroom' trick are you?"

He laughed. "Do I have to?"

"No." She shot him a grin and let him lead her from the room.

Instead of heading down the hall towards the room she knew was his Dom took her to the stairs and down. It opened up into the den, where Brian was sitting with little Jack, cartoons on the television. Mia was already in the kitchen and Letty could smell something delicious in the air. Dom tugged her through the kitchen and out the back door. She was starting to get confused until he made his way towards the old garage at the end of the drive. It was a falling apart old wooden thing that looked almost like it wouldn't stand up to a stiff breeze. Dom had clearly opened it up earlier and the last lines of sunlight in the late afternoon sky fell across the dusty cement floor. There was some kind of car, covered by an equally dusty cloth.

Around the space there was some clutter. A workbench covered in tools, more against the far wall. Aged photos and newspaper clippings pinned to a corkboard. A massive toolbox in one corner. More boxes stacked on shelves or tucked beneath tables.

"I'm guessing you spent a lot of time here through the years," she said, untangling her fingers from Dom's to move further into the space.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You've spent some time here yourself."

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, offering him a small smile. "Hoping to jog a memory?" she asked. "What's under the cover?"

Dom shrugged. "It's a place I want to share with you, even if you don't remember," he replied, then motioned to the covered car. "Why don't you take a look?"

Snagging the edge of the cloth, Letty tugged it up to expose the front grill of the car. Silver and black metal gleamed back at her. She brushed her fingertips over the hood, pulling the cover further back to bare the towering supercharger and rounded silver mirrors. The car was a beast, and a beauty. She would bet it would roar when you kicked up speed.

"Gorgeous," she murmured when she'd revealed the car in all her glory. A Dodge Charger, modified and well maintained. "You drive her?"

"Yeah but… she's been through a lot," he said, coming up beside her.

She swept her gaze across the vehicle. "Can't tell…" she said softly, though for a moment she had a flash of twisted metal, a silver cross dangling from the rearview mirror. She blinked, brow furrowing, reaching for the flash… for whatever that had been. Not even a memory. Not even… anything. She let it slip away.

"You okay?" Dom asked.

"Fine," she agreed, turning to lean back against the charger, laid her hands against his chest. "Tell me about it… the Charger."

"Built her with my Dad," he said, closing his big hands over hers. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against her palm. "I'll tell you about him too. But the car… it was our project together. We used to work on it after I got home from school and on the weekends. Dad drove her in a race and… got run into a wall by another racer. I never drove her after that… for years."

Letty's fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt. His father died in a crash. She kept silent as he went on.

"Till Brian came along. Some shit went down with our old crew… I drove her then. Raced Brian at the train tracks when a train was coming through."

"Jesus," she muttered. Apparently Dom's reckless nature was nothing new.

"We missed the train," he said, smirking down at her. "Then I plowed her into a semi…."

"It's a wonder this car even drives," she said drily.

"You fixed her up after that," he replied, dropping one hand to her hip. "Or… started to."

"Did I?" she asked, looking over at the car.

"Didn't finish it before your accident. But Mia said you wanted to have her fixed by the time I came home." He sighed, leaned in to press his face against her hair, his voice a gravelly sound that vibrated against his chest. "She said the car was cursed. But I finished the work anyway."

"Can't be cursed." She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I wasn't dead, was I?"

"I wrecked it again in Mexico… then Rio." Laughing he drew back. "I haven't been very kind to this car."

"I guess she's lucky you didn't bring her to London. Or you might have lost her off the side of that elevated Highway in Spain."

"I would have crashed this car a thousand times to catch you, Letty." He cupped her cheek with one of those big hands, until she titled her head to meet his eyes with her own.

"I know," she said, and found that she did. That she believed he would do anything for her. This man that she knew… but didn't know. She couldn't remember… loving him, or sharing all these memories with him. She couldn't remember this house, this garage, this car. But something made her want to gather up the loose ends of this life and try to twine herself back into it. Maybe her memories would never come back, but she wanted this. People who loved her. A place she belonged. Family, loyalty. Things she hadn't known since she woke up in that hospital room.

Maybe she couldn't remember loving him, but she was certain she could love him again.