I guess I'll die another day...

2014

Owen was dead. Hattie drank her beer heavily, barely pausing to breathe. Her brother was dead. Her cat, Ollie, sat on the window sill, looking at her.

"He's dead," Hattie told him a bit drunkenly. "My brother is dead." Her phone rang for the hundredth time, and Hattie slid it to voicemail without even looking at it. She knew it was her mother. She didn't care.

All sorts of memories bounced through Hattie's mind as she sat there drinking. Owen pulling her along by the hand after doing a grift, a huge grin on his face. Owen laughing so hard that milk came out his nose. Owen holding the flashlight up while they read comics under their makeshift fort. Owen teaching her how to ride a bike. Owen showing her how to dance. Owen shielding her from their father. Owen smiling at her over his shoulder as he walked away in his military uniform, bag over his shoulder. Owen fighting with her when she found out he was dishonorably discharged. Owen ignoring her calls. Owen disappearing.

Owen's dead. Dead.

Hattie felt the sob come from her gut. It escaped her mouth and turned into a full out wail, then a scream. She pounded her fists on the floor, screaming.

"You bastard!" she screamed to his invisible ghost. "You bastard! You promised me! You promised you'd change! What did you do? What did you DOOOO?!" Ollie ran for cover in the midst of this episode. Hattie didn't blame him. She didn't even recognize the animalistic sounds she was making. She was shaking when she finally stopped, and she slid onto her back on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

She thought about Deckard next. They'd been so close growing up, closer than she was with Owen. He'd protected her, taught her lessons, and made sure she was going in the right direction. The day she heard he'd murdered his team and went dark was the day she felt like someone had ripped out her own heart. Both of her brothers had changed who they were, and she couldn't understand it. They'd buried their beauty inside real deep, just like their father had. She breathed in and out shakily, trying to calm down.

"Come on, Hat," she said to herself. "Pull yourself together. You don't need any of them. You're fine." Ollie returned and settled on her chest, purring. She reached to pet him absently, feeling tears coming again. Ollie moved to nuzzle her face, and she clung to him hard, making him meow in protest. She just needed something to hang onto right now. He was all she had.

...

Deckard was waiting when he got the call.

"They're coming for me!" Han shouted. Deckard could hear noises in the background indicative of feet pounding. "I'm going for my car!"

"Tell me where you're heading."

Han did so, and Deckard mapped it out.

"Brace yourself and be ready to get out," Deckard instructed as he walked to the door. "You won't hear from me again until it's safe to surface."

"Got it."

Deckard hurried. There was a small window for this, and he couldn't fail. He turned on the radio as he started to drive, which he'd gotten patched into the police scanner. They told him where Han was heading, which was about where he said he'd be going. Deckard maneuvered around the streets carefully, looking for Han's car. It was a blur in his peripheral, and he sped down the alley he was in and came out right as Han was going around the corner. Deckard braced himself as he crashed into Han's car. There was a moment where he felt disoriented, but he shook his head and stepped out of the car. There was a lot of shouting and screaming around him as he strode purposefully towards Han. Cipher had instructed him to leave Toretto's necklace on the ground and to call Toretto right after killing Han, so Deckard pulled out his phone. He hoped Han would get the hell out in time. He dropped the necklace and dialed Toretto.

"Yea?" Toretto's voice asked.

Deckard said his reply just as he'd rehearsed. Simple and to the point. The explosion happened behind him, and he turned his head slightly to the left to see a figure he recognized stumbling through the crowd. Thank God. Han had escaped. Deckard turned his head forward and hurried through the crowd. He knew a firestorm was coming his way, but he was ready.

He had to be.

...

Mr. Nobody answered his phone, knowing it would be Deckard. He'd been keeping an eye on Dom, and he knew Han had been "killed." The show was about to start.

"Hello, Deckard," he said cheerily.

"Well?" Deckard asked.

"Oh, very believable. Well done."

"Did you move my brother?"

"Right to the point," Nobody chuckled. "Yes, I moved him out and called in a favor with the doctor there. He pronounced your brother dead, so you won't have to worry about Cipher going after him anymore."

"Good."

"That was quite a close call with that bomb, though," Nobody went on. "I thought you weren't actually trying to kill Toretto and his family?"

"What?" There was genuine confusion in Deckard's voice, which surprised Mr. Nobody. "What bomb? What are you talking about?"

"The bomb on Toretto's porch. You damn near took out him, his sister, his brother-in-law, and his little nephew."

"I...I didn't do that," Deckard replied. There was a pause. "Are they all right?"

"Oh yes. I think O'Conner had a slight concussion, but everyone is fine. Dom's house is now a hole in the ground, though."

"You have to believe me. I didn't do that," Deckard said.

"I believe you. I think Cipher is fueling the flames of your feud with Toretto, though," Nobody said. "Just watch your back."

"Thanks."

"And Deckard?"

"Yea?"

"I have a team on standby ready to rescue your wife and daughter when the time comes." Mr. Nobody waited, hearing a change in Deckard's breathing. He imagined Deckard was struggling with his emotions at this point.

"Thanks," he said again. Then he hung up. Mr. Nobody pocketed his phone and cracked his knuckles. It would soon be time to introduce himself to Dominic Toretto.

...

Cipher answered her phone with a smile. She looked at Deckard's wife and daughter while tapping the gun to her thigh. It brought her so much delight to torment people. She loved fear. She loved creating fear in others.

"Hello, Deckard," she said. "Do you have good news for me?"

"Han Seoul-Oh is dead," Deckard answered flatly.

"How did he die?"

"Car accident."

"Seems fitting for a bunch of street racers," Cipher commented. "All right, that should be enough of a warning to what's coming. Forget the rest of the team for now. I want your focus solely on Dom." She played with her mice but every so often went for the kill without warning. She didn't want to play with Toretto anymore. Ever since her bomb failed to kill him, she wanted him gone. She'd deal with the others after.

"Fine."

"You're on your way back to L.A.?" she asked.

"Sitting in the airport now."

"Good." Cipher looked at Deckard's wife and smiled at her stony face.

"Put her on," Deckard ordered. Cipher went over to the them and handed the phone to the daughter instead, who grabbed it and started sobbing into it.

"Daddy, I'm scared!"

Deckard's wife never broke eye contact with Cipher, who could see the rage in them. Cipher watched the little girl nodding as she clutched the phone tightly. Then she reached over to take it from her.

"Time's up," Cipher said to Deckard. "Move your ass."

"Oh, trust me. It's moving," Deckard promised. He hung up, and Cipher put her phone into her back pocket.

"You get to live to die another day," Cipher told Deckard's wife.

"F*** you," she replied.

Cipher's lips twisted into a smile as she turned and walked away.

...

Daddy, I'm scared!

Deckard's jaw was clenched so tight he was sure he was going to start breaking teeth. Hearing his daughter sound like that had broken his heart. He wanted to break something. No, he wanted to break Cipher's face. He wanted to break her apart limb by limb. He wanted to shoot her, drown her, slit her throat, set her on fire, strangle her, throw her off a cliff...

"Excuse me," a woman said to him, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Are you all right? You seem tense. Nervous flier?"

"No," he answered curtly.

"Oh. It just seemed that way from your stance," she said, gesturing.

"Don't talk to me," he told her. "Trust me. No good can come from talking to me."

The lady was taken aback, but she stopped talking to him. Deckard felt bad, but he didn't want anyone else to get hurt in this. He pulled out his worn out photographs from his wallet and looked at them. His family smiled back up at him. He blinked hard to stop them from welling up. He put them back and rested his head against the seat. Cipher had tried to blow up Toretto and pinned it on him. Cipher was fueling Toretto's anger towards him. This was going to be a shit show. He sighed hard. He wanted this to be over, but he knew that when it was over, it wouldn't really be over.

There was still Eteon's bullshit to deal with.

...

Magdalene looked up from her tea when he walked in. She never thought she'd need him, but in this moment, she was desperate. If anyone could find someone, he could.

"Queenie," he said, sitting down across from her.

"Harry," she said back, setting an arm on the table. She gripped her gun between her legs under the table.

"At ease," he chuckled. "We're on a truce, remember?"

"Are we? I've lost track."

"Well, the last time we met, you tried to stick a knife between my eyes, and then I tried to blow you up. We reached an agreement that it was time for a break," Harry explained.

"Right. Now I remember," Magdalene said with a nod. She holstered her gun, looking around at the other people in the cafe.

"So, why have you called me?" Harry asked. "Must be desperate."

"Owen is dead, and Deckard is MIA," Magdalene answered. Harry inhaled sharply. Say what you wanted about Harry Shaw, but he did care about his children. He just had a shitty way of showing it. He let the alcohol run his life for him for too long.

"Hattie?" he asked.

"She knows, but she's not speaking to me currently."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to find Deckard and find out what the hell is going on," Magdalene replied.

"You sure he wants to be found?"

"I don't give a duck's arse," Magdalene retorted. "If he's in trouble, I want to know!"

"All right. I'll start looking," Harry said.

"Stay sober, will you?"

"I've been sober for five years, luv," Harry replied, standing up. Magdalene felt longing in her chest then. Sober Harry was a good man. Sober Harry cared about others and had morals. Sober Harry was the love of her life. She held firm, though. She couldn't just forget everything he'd done.

"Good luck," she said a little stiffly. He nodded and walked out, leaving her to stare at her tea and wish that life had gone just a bit differently for them all.

Three Days Later

Deckard sat in his car as the funeral procession headed for the cemetery. He wondered how Han would feel if he had been there to watch his own funeral. A lot of people seemed to know him. He felt the breeze on his face and shifted in his seat. He thought about Gisele next. He'd read all about her from the files he'd stolen. It was a no brainer as to why Han fell in love with her. Deckard wondered if his brother had any idea the pain he'd caused this team. He couldn't understand why his brother had gotten involved with Cipher. He remembered the day Owen had told him about her, and Deckard had warned him to stay away from her. Hattie had called him not long after to cry about how Owen had changed, and then Owen had disappeared altogether. It made Deckard wonder what leverage Cipher had over Owen.

He started to drive and noticed Toretto watching him. Deckard still wasn't sure if Cipher was watching him, so he had to make it all seem very real. When Toretto ran for his car, Deckard tore off, knowing Toretto would find him soon enough.

He waited for him in a quiet place. He wasn't sure what was going through Toretto's mind as he started racing towards him, but Deckard drove at him head on, and they crashed. Deckard regained his senses after a moment and got out of his car, gun in hand. Toretto got out as well and looked at him, fists clenched.

"Were you looking for a street fight?" Deckard asked.

"Yea," Toretto answered. Deckard surveyed him and knew he had less chances of killing him in a fistfight. It would also look like a good attempt on his part. He tossed his gun, and the fight was on. Toretto was tough, there was no doubt about that. After a few blows, sirens could be heard plus squealing tires. Deckard knew he couldn't get caught, so he managed to escape. He caught sight of Mr. Nobody sauntering to Toretto and knew this whole operation was going to shift towards focusing more on God's Eye.

There was some relief in that. It was getting harder to fake killing Toretto.

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