There's just no time to die.

2010

Hattie gripped her phone tightly in her hand. She'd just finished talking to Owen, and after sharing tears and pleadings with him, he'd promised he would change hiw ways. Hattie didn't know if he actually would, but she'd at least made the effort. She missed him, not that she'd admit it, but she did. She wanted him to get on the straight and narrow. She wanted to try and rebuild their relationship. Seeing him at Grace's birthday had really made that clear to her.

Now she just had to trust that he would actually keep his word.

...

Deckard found Emily sitting alone in the dark on the back step, and he sank down next to her, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands folded. He knew she'd been crying, and he wished he could help her to ease the pain a bit. He didn't know what it was like to lose a best friend, but he could imagine. He worried about Brixton every single day. He'd gone dark after Holly died, and it left Deckard to run the task force alone for a bit.

"Is it ever gonna stop hurting?" Emily asked him, turning her head to look at him. He reached to take her hand in his, running his thumb across her knuckles.

"The hurt will always be there, but it won't be as sharp one day," he advised.

"I hope you're right."

She leaned against him, and he pressed his lips into her hair softly. It hurt him to see her hurting. Losing Holly had hurt him too. He'd never forget her. One of his favorite memories of her was when she'd written Emily's last name on the white board so he could get the date with the girl of his dreams.

"How was Grace tonight?" Emily asked a moment later.

"Okay. She asked me if I'd seen any signs today." Deckard knew Grace was really missing Holly, and it made him hurt that much more to see his little girl mourn for her favorite aunt.

"And did you?" Emily asked.

"I think I ran over a toad today," he answered, "but I didn't think she'd want to hear that."

"Decks," Emily said, giving him a slight shove. He smiled a little before growing serious. She knew that he used humor to hide his pain. He knew Holly would have laughed.

"Every light turned green when I got there," he advised, reaching to run his fingers along her face from front to back.

"Hmm."

He felt heat from her tears soak into his shirt, and he put his arm around her to pull her in tighter. He knew Rusty had called her earlier, but he was in the middle of something and couldn't come home. Deckard was glad he at least called, though. They both worried about Emily's health. She had gotten better through therapy with her eating disorder after she'd worked through her postpartum, and it had been a long time since Deckard had caught her in the bathroom after a meal, but he worried this would trigger it to start again. He knew she had an appointment in a few days with her therapist, so he hoped it would be talked about if it was something she noticed coming back.

"We'll get through, huh?" he said, and she nodded against his arm. He rested his head on top of hers, and they stayed like that for a long time.

2013

Magdalene was feeling on edge. Something wasn't right with her middle child, and she just knew that he was in trouble. She could feel it. It was her mother's instincts after all. Deckard had mentioned he was hanging around a shady woman still, and he felt like this was going to end badly for Owen. Magdalene hadn't really liked Cipher either when they'd met, but she'd stayed out of it.

Now, she wished she hadn't.

She refrained from calling Deckard. She knew he was at work. Hattie wasn't speaking to her. She didn't really have anyone to talk to about this, and it was driving her mad. She paced and tapped her fingers against her cheek periodically. Then she decided to try and track Owen down. Perhaps if she just spoke to him, she'd feel better about her bad feeling.

She went to her computer and set to work.

...

Emily looked at Hattie as she sat at the kitchen table. Deckard was at work, and Emily was agitated that he was going to get hurt. She couldn't stop having this bad feeling lately. Ever since losing Holly, Brixton had been a bit erratic and all over the place, and she feared he was going to get Deckard killed on the job. Her husband promised that Brixton was very focused at work over the last year, which she had to take as a small comfort despite doubting it.

"He just disappeared," Hattie said now. "He promised me he was going to change, Em. Why would he lie?"

"I don't know, Hat." Emily knew that Owen disappearing on Hattie three years ago had hurt her a lot. Emily couldn't understand why Owen would do that to her. She was still mad at her brother for leaving Hattie behind too. It was two conversations that Hattie would rehash with her over and over again, and Emily let her because she knew Hattie needed to keep processing it, even after all this time.

"I can't believe I trusted him to change," Hattie scoffed, pressing her hands against her eyes.

"He's your brother. We're supposed to be able to trust our siblings."

"Yea, well," Hattie said, scoffing again. "Apparently I can't. I'm sorry I keep twisting your ear about it."

"It's fine. I get it," Emily advised, giving her a small smile. Grace came home from school then, and she squealed at the sight of her aunt. Hattie let her slam into her for a hug, and she ruffled the girl's hair fondly.

"How's my niece?" Hattie asked.

"Good," Grace answered. "Are you staying for supper?" She had so much hope in her voice, and Emily saw Hattie wavering despite knowing she had planned on leaving soon.

"I am," Hattie said, making the decision. "You can show me what you've been up to."

"Yay!"

Emily smiled as Grace went to hang up her backpack and change from school. She looked at Hattie, who gave her a "what can you do?" type of shrug and smile. Emily reached to squeeze her shoulder as she went to start making supper. Then Grace came back and dragged Hattie to her room, the sounds of their talking and laughing echoing in the house.

...

Owen was standing in front of Cipher, and he couldn't believe what was happening. She was leering at him, and he was trying to figure out where things had changed. How had she become like this? Or maybe she always had been, and he'd been too stupid to see it. Deckard's warning three years ago echoed in his head. Any time he'd talked to his brother since and mentioned Cipher, Deckard had repeated the warning.

"Do I make myself clear, Owen?" Cipher asked, resting her hands on the table. Her henchmen were standing behind her. Owen hated them all, especially Rhodes.

"Perfectly," he answered. His eyes kept flicking down at the table where photos of Hattie were. It would appear that Cipher had been monitoring his sister for a while, getting ready to use her to blackmail him to do her bidding. She wanted Nightshade, and because Deckard had turned her down via email, he was up for the role. Owen didn't like what Nightshade was going to do for Cipher, so he'd said no. Then she'd told him that Hattie would die if he didn't.

So what was he supposed to do?

"Get moving," Cipher hissed. Owen turned and strode out of there, his heart pounding. His first job was to get to the DSS agent working with Luke Hobbs and turn her to his side. He was dreading that very much, but it had to be done. He couldn't let his sister get hurt. He'd failed her enough over the last while; he wasn't going to fail her again. He couldn't warn her. Cipher had made it known everything was being monitored, and she had a man joining his team to keep an eye on him. He wanted that man gone the first chance he got. He didn't have a choice, but it was possible he could get some kind of message to Hattie. He'd try his hardest.

Or else die trying.

A Few Days Later

Hattie was sorting through her mail when she paused, her fingers holding a small card. She opened the envelope, frowning at the lack of return address. A card that said "Thinking of You" with a photo of a happy looking baby deer on it slid out. She opened it read the words inside.

Shake up your routine.

She stared at them, recognizing Owen's handwriting. What the hell was this? A prank? She looked at it for a while longer before tucking it back into the envelope and going over to her little stove to burn it. He'd officially lost his mind. She wanted to put him out of her mind, so once she finished burning the card, she went out for a run.

Just in case, she went down a different path than usual.

2014

Deckard was perched with his sniper rifle with Brixton watching through binoculars next to him. Their target was going to arrive at any moment. The rest of their team was on standby on the street with two in the building discreetly.

"People really are the worst sometimes, aren't they?" Brixton said. Deckard scoffed.

"You're just figuring that out now?" he asked. He kept his eye on the scope, scanning. Brixton chuckled.

"Nah. Guess I'm just reminding myself."

"We've seen a lot of shit," Deckard confirmed.

"Target is heading up south stairwell, One," Six said in his earpiece.

"Copy that," Deckard replied.

"We've had a good run with this taskforce," Brixton commented while Deckard adjusted himself and aimed his rifle at the spot where the stairwell was.

"Uh huh."

"We're a good team."

"What are you getting at, Brixton?" Sweat was trickling down the side of his head slowly. The sun was hot on that roof.

"There he is," Brixton said instead, and Deckard lined up the shot and pulled the trigger. Chaos ensued in the building around the fallen target, and Deckard made sure the man did not get up or move again before pushing himself up and start dismantling his rifle quickly.

"You gonna tell me or what?" he asked, zipping the bag shut and following Brixton to the door.

"Yea," Brixton replied. "I, uh, was approached by someone from a group called Eteon."

"Eteon?"

"Yea. They had some interesting things to say about the fate of the world and how we can preserve it. They're visionaries, mate."

Deckard felt a bit of alarm at this. He looked at Brixton as they hustled down the stairs. He knew his friend had never fully recovered from losing Holly. There'd been an instance where he'd pulled him down from a literal ledge, and he'd worried that Brixton would do something crazy again when he got another chance.

Perhaps losing his mind was on that list.

"Sounds like a cult," Deckard commented.

"It's not," Brixton said quickly. "Can you just hear me out? We can meet up when we get back home and go over it, yea?"

"Alright," Deckard agreed, for the sake of saving an argument right now. They said no more as they met up with the others and got out of there. Deckard wasn't sure what to think of this whole Eteon thing, but something about it made his skin prickle in a bad way. He looked at Brixton as he drove, and he wondered if he'd truly lost his best friend forever.

Two Days Later

Emily had reluctantly let Deckard get up that morning. He'd come home the night before, and she'd barely let him get settled before indicating she wanted some attention, which he'd gladly given her. Usually, it was the other way around, but sometimes, it was her that was wanting him.

"Don't look at me like that," Deckard laughed, catching her pout as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"You promised me your tush was staying in bed with me all day," she reminded him.

"But I'm hungry," he replied, a slight whine in his tone. She moved to reach for the can on the nightstand, and he spoke before she did. "That does not count." He lifted a brow, and she pursed her lips coyly, tapping her fingers on the can.

"Fine," she sighed heavily. "Abandon me. Again."

"I'm literally down the hall," he reasoned. She threw herself down onto her pillows on her back, raising her arms to cross them over her eyes and feigning being neglected. She yelped a second later when he grabbed her ankles and dragged her down towards the end of the bed, feeling his fingers intertwine with hers as he pushed them down on the mattress over her head and hovered over her.

"I will be right back," he promised, his lips grazing hers. "And then I'm all yours." She accepted his kiss and gave a disappointed groan when he stopped, pushed himself up, and left the room. She was glad Grace was with a friend until after supper. She needed some alone time with Deckard to catch up on everything. When he was away, she tried not to think about the things he did. She knew he was good at his job, and she hoped she would never see that fierceness in him come out against someone. She enjoyed having the funny, gentle side of him with a touch of temper if he got frustrated with something. She could always bring him down from it, and it never scared her. It was just who he was. And she could get pissed off about things just as much too.

She heard him making something to eat in the kitchen, and then there was a knock on the door. Frowning, she got up and pulled her robe on before tiptoeing down the hall to eavesdrop.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Brixton's voice asked. Emily was surprised. Hadn't they just been together the day before?

"Not yet," Deckard replied.

"Can we talk about Eteon?"

"Make it brief," Deckard replied. Emily felt curious. What was Eteon? She stayed hidden on the other side of the wall, listening. Chairs scraping indicated the men had sat down.

"Look, they're saying that if things keep going the way they are, the world is gonna end a lot sooner than we think," Brixton started. "Their plan is to help create a good future, and I want to be a part of that."

"How are they going to do that?" Deckard asked. Emily felt a little bit of fear in her stomach. Was he going to agree with Brixton? It was sounding a bit dodgy, the things he was saying.

"You and I both know that humans are frail, Decks, but there are stronger ones out there. Their idea is that if we eliminate the weaker population, the stronger will step up and create progress. It's beneficial to human evolution."

"Brix, are you listening to yourself?" Deckard asked.

"I am. I think it's a good plan."

"Brixton, you've finally cracked," Deckard said in disbelief. "Who are these people? Hitler's offspring? We can't just go around killing people because someone deems them 'weak.' That's genocide!"

"No, it's not. It's taking care of the future, Decks. If we don't do something, we won't have a future."

Emily stood there holding her breath, her heart pounding. There was silence for a moment as both men were obviously having a stare down. She could feel Deckard's stare coming through the wall almost.

"I really want you to join me on this, Decks," Brixton said. "I think we can do some good here."

"It's not good, Brixton. I'm not interested. I'm sorry."

"I don't think you're understanding me," Brixton started.

"I understand you very well, Brix," Deckard cut him off. "And I'm not slaughtering innocent people because of some crackpot vision. I know it's been tough since Holly died, but you're going down a dark path, Brixton."

"Don't say her name!" Brixton shouted now, banging his fist on the table. Emily jumped slightly, startled. She felt a lump in her throat thinking about Holly suddenly.

"I'm sorry," Deckard said softly. "But you're not handling it well. We all can see that. You need help, mate."

"I'm perfectly fine," Brixton said coldly. A chair scraped back now. "I will give you some time to think about this. I really hope you will come to the same conclusion I have."

"I won't," Deckard advised.

"I'll see you in three days," Brixton said, ignoring him. Emily heard him leave, and a moment later, Deckard appeared around the corner. He met her eyes, and she knew that he'd known she'd been there the entire time.

"You aren't going to join him in that...that madness, are you?" she asked.

"No." He shook his head. "No way."

"Thank God," she whispered, pulling him into her. He hugged her tight, and she felt scared suddenly. "What happens if you say no?"

"I imagine he'll leave the team, and I just might give it up for good at that point," Deckard answered.

"Okay."

Emily didn't know what else to say. Deckard smoothed his hands up and down her sides before kissing her gently. She felt him starting up something as he moved his hands and nudged her mouth open with his. She still felt some anxiety about this whole Eteon thing, but as he lifted her into his arms, still kissing her, she decided to follow his lead and let it go for now.

Three Days Later

Deckard was listening to his mother's voicemail as he stood in the hallway. Grace was talking animatedly with Emily about some animal she'd seen in the yard; he wasn't fully paying attention.

"Decks, it's your mother," Magdalene said in the recording. "I've had a bad feeling about Owen for a long time now. I think something's happened. I need to find him. Call me."

He erased the message feeling a bit nauseous. He had a bad feeling about his brother too, but he didn't want to admit it. He was going to call out to Emily when his phone rang.

"Ma, I just got your message. Can you give me five minutes to bloody process it first before berating me?" he asked.

"It's me," Brixton said.

"Ah, sorry."

"Everything okay?"

"It's Owen. He's missing."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yea. What's up?" Deckard asked, desperate to change the subject. He moved to the window to look out in the yard, sliding a hand into his pant pocket.

"Did you think about my offer?"

This again. Deckard was feeling irritated. He'd already said no. Why was Brixton so dead set against making him join? Emily came into the kitchen at that moment with Grace on her heels, still talking.

"I haven't changed my mind, Brixton. I'm not joining," Deckard said, and Emily shot him a worried look. He gestured it was fine. There was a pause and then a heavy sigh. "Brix?"

"I have no choice, mate. I really wish you'd joined. I'm sorry."

"Brixton?"

The line went dead, and Deckard looked at his phone for a second before all the hair went up on his arms and neck and a voice inside his head warned: Incoming.

"GET DOWN!" he roared, lunging to land on Grace and knock her down. Emily hit the floor a second later, just as bullets rained in from all directions.

Emily screamed when glass shattered. She shielded her face from the glass. Deckard was shielding his face, as well, as he covered Grace with his body. When there was a pause in gunfire, he lifted his head and moved to push Grace across to her.

"Go!" he shouted at her. "Get out of here!" Emily hauled Grace up, and they both made their way to the back door. Unfortunately, they were met by a heavily armed man.

"Decks!" Emily shouted, pulling Grace backwards and trying to get away from the man. Deckard was fighting one that had come in through the now broken window. He didn't want to know if any of these men were his former teammates. He knocked the man out and rushed to Emily's aid. He threw a kitchen knife at the other man to make him duck, which gave Deckard time to pull Emily and Grace to the bathroom. He shut and locked the door, knowing it wouldn't buy them much time.

"What do we do?" Emily asked, scared. Bullets came through the door then, and Deckard threw himself over both of them to get them out of the way. Emily cried out. When the bullets stopped, he looked down at her as she moved her hand to her abdomen. It took his brain a moment to register the sight of blood gushing.

"Mum?" Grace asked, her voice small and scared.

"Oh, God," Emily said, trying not to panic. "Decks..." He was already pulling out the drawer and yanking out towels. He pressed them into the wound tightly.

"Get into the tub," he instructed. "And lie flat. Both of you." Grace obeyed, and Deckard had to help Emily.

"What are you going to do?" Emily asked.

"Finish this," he answered. "You two stay here and keep your heads down."

"Daddy," Grace said tearfully, reaching to grab his wrist.

"Hold this as hard as you can right here," he instructed, showing her with the towels. "Okay? Don't let up. Help is coming." He kissed her head and then kissed Emily hard and fast. "Hang in there, luv, okay? Please?"

"Hurry," she whimpered. He didn't need to be told twice. He threw open the linen cupboard door and dug out his pistol hidden in there at the back before he launched himself out of the bathroom, attacking the man who was loading his gun. He had him knocked out in moments. He wasn't going to shoot if he didn't have to, but he would if needed. He turned when he heard slow clapping.

"Well done," Brixton said, appearing. "Still tough as nails."

"What are you doing?" Deckard asked. He felt afraid. Brixton wouldn't be here to kill him over Eteon, would he? Surely his best friend was not going to betray him like this.

"I have my orders," Brixton answered. "I'm sorry, old friend."

"You'd kill a mother and a daughter over this Eteon bullshit?" Deckard asked, incredulous. He couldn't believe his best friend would do this. Who had he become?

"Orders are orders."

"Well, then just know I have my orders too," Deckard retorted.

"All you have to do is join," Brixton said, gesturing.

"Never," Deckard answered sharply. His friend just shook his head sadly.

"Then this is goodbye." Brixton moved his arm, but Deckard was faster. He fired his gun three times. Two to the heart and one to the head, just like they'd been taught. He stood there with a shaking hand, horrified that he'd just killed his best friend. He had no choice, though. It was him and his family or Brixton, and he wasn't about to let his family get murdered. He felt bile in his throat, and he swallowed it down once, twice. He couldn't bear the sight of his friend on the ground dead before him. He forced himself to turn away and hurried back to Emily, who was quite pale by this point. Grace was holding the towels, which were now soaked red. It wasn't great, but it wasn't the worst. He'd been in her shoes before. She hadn't lost enough blood yet to warrant a transfusion.

"Is an ambulance coming?" Grace asked. Emily met Deckard's eyes, and he knew she knew a hospital was out of the question. Eteon would most likely still be looking for him, especially when Brixton missed his check in with them.

"We're going to the safe house," Deckard answered, reaching to pull Emily up into his arms. Grace stepped out of the tub and followed him. He stepped over the first body on the floor and paused. "Don't look at anything but my back, Grace. Okay?"

"Okay."

She walked right behind him, head down. They got to his car, and he set Emily in the back.

"Hang on," he said to her. She nodded weakly, and he went to drive. He broke every speed limit getting her to their safe house. Once inside, Deckard commanded Grace to sit in the other room while he set to work fixing up Emily.

"This is gonna hurt, luv," he said, opening the alcohol bottle.

"I know," she whimpered. "Just do it." He doused the wound and tweezers in alcohol and pulled out the bullet while Emily cried out and groaned in pain. He could hear Grace sobbing in the other room.

"Almost done," he said, working fast and cauterizing the wound. Emily released a bit of a scream at this process, which ripped through Deckard. He kept his focus on fixing it, though, and Emily was breathing like she was in labor and staring at the ceiling.

"There," he said. "Good as new." He bent to kiss her head, leaving his lips on her temple for a moment. He knew he'd never survive if he lost her or Grace.

"I can't...believe he'd...do this," Emily said between breaths.

"Me either," he said faintly. His friend was gone. He couldn't believe it. He felt himself starting to shake, and he had to get some space. He moved away from Emily and went to another room down the hall. He took in some deep breaths, trying not to see his friend's dead, vacant stare when he closed his eyes.

"Decks?" Emily said, coming to join him a moment later. She was in fresh clothes, her cheeks tearstained. Her movements were slow from pain. Deckard knew she'd be alright. If they'd been any later, he would have had no choice but to take her to the hospital, but he was no stranger to fixing up bullet wounds and knew she would recover. He was going to reach out later to a contact who was a doctor to have them check her out.

"I'm so sorry," he told her. "I had no idea."

"I know. It's okay. You got us out of there alive," she said, pulling him close. He breathed her in while thanking God she was alive when she spoke again. "I always told myself I never wanted to see you fight and kill people, but after today, it's made my confidence in you that much higher."

"I never wanted you to see it either," he replied. "I never wanted you to look at me and see a killer."

"I saw self-defense," she stated. "I saw you love us more than anything by doing what it took to save us." He gritted his teeth from emotion, and she moved to kiss his cheek softly before resting her hand close to her wound.

"That'll heal up in no time," he advised, putting his hand over hers. She nodded.

"I'll finally have a cool scar like you," she said, trying to make light of it. Deckard couldn't yet. He just shook his head and held her close against him, her cheek against his shoulder.

"We better go comfort Grace," he told her now.

"What are we gonna do? Is Eteon going to come after us now?"

"I don't know. I have to figure out where they are and go from there."

"I'm scared, Decks."

"I know, but it'll be all over soon," he promised. "Okay?"

"Okay."

He smoothed a hand over her cheek, and she closed her eyes briefly until they moved to go back inside. Deckard let Grace throw herself at him, and he lifted her into his arms.

"Are we safe, Dad?" she asked.

"For now, yes," he answered. "We are safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Okay."

He met Emily's eyes, and he could see her doubt. He tried not to feel it too.

The Next Day

Deckard was not getting any answers, and it was pissing him off. His mother had tried to call him again, which he'd ignored. He was busy trying to figure out his next move when he got the call from Hattie.

"Hey," he said.

"How could you?" Hattie asked, crying.

"What?"

"How could you do that?!" she shrieked. Deckard felt so confused.

"Do what?" He knew she didn't know about Brixton, so what was she talking about?

"I just heard from our superiors that you slaughtered your taskforce team, Decks. You killed them! You're a traitor!"

"What?" Deckard's mind was racing. His team was dead? What the hell was going on?

"Don't deny it. They've got proof. You killed them. I can't believe you. You were my only family left," Hattie sobbed.

"Hat..."

"I hate you, Decks. Don't ever speak to me again." She hung up, and Deckard felt sick to his stomach. He dialed the number to a friend of his in MI6, and he was told the same thing Hattie had just said. He was deemed a traitor and being hunted. No one was going to believe that he didn't do it. Deckard hung up and considered it. If Hattie wasn't speaking to him, then that kept her safe from Eteon. He figured anyone associated with him would get into trouble, so this was for the best. It hurt to have her hate him, especially since they were close, but it had to be done.

He'd just add it to the already full pile of pain he was dealing with.

...

Emily noticed his angst when Deckard came into the safe house later. His doctor friend had left about an hour ago, having stated she was okay and praised Deckard for his work. Emily knew that Deckard had lots of practice in the line of work he did, so she never doubted his ability to fix her up and keep her safe. She watched now as he sank down heavily onto the kitchen chair and put his head into his hands. Grace was watching TV, so she went over to him quietly and asked what was going on. He sighed heavily, getting up to go with her somewhere quieter to talk.

"MI6 has deemed me a traitor," he answered once the bedroom door was shut. "Someone killed my taskforce, and they're pinning it on me."

"Eteon?" she asked.

"I am going to say yes," he answered. "This is a nightmare, Em. They've got control of the media and God knows what else."

"So what do we do?"

"We stay low, and I think we should probably change our names for a while."

"Okay."

"I'm so sorry," he said. She shook her head and rested her palm over his heart.

"You didn't do any of this. Don't be sorry."

"I should have stayed out of the game when I left," he lamented. "If I had, this never would have been brought up to me."

"We'll get through," Emily promised. "I have your back, Decks." He nodded, and she kissed him softly before Grace came in after knocking. She didn't like having them out of her sight for too long.

"Are we okay, Dad?" she asked. Deckard went to pull her into a hug next.

"Yea, we are," he answered. "Don't sweat it." Emily knew he was barely keeping it together. She'd held him half the night before as he'd cried over losing Brixton. Seeing him cry was foreign and heartbreaking; she felt bad that she couldn't make things better. She could see him beginning to harden, though. He didn't let his emotions bleed through for very long.

"When can we go home?"

"Not for a bit, okay?"

"Okay."

"Go finish up," he instructed, gesturing to the direction of the living room. "Then we'll eat."

"Alright." She padded away, and Deckard looked at Emily again.

"Hattie thinks I'm a traitor," he said, his voice a bit hoarse. "She heard."

"What? No..."

"It's for the best," he cut her off. "Eteon will leave her alone now."

"Decks..."

"It is what it is," he interrupted again. "Just leave it, okay?"

"Okay." Emily felt a bit sick. Hattie hating Deckard was just wrong. She wanted to call and make it right, but she understood Deckard's plan. If it kept Hattie safe, then it had to stay this way for now.

Emily let him assist her in starting supper, knowing he needed the distraction. She tried not to feel like something worse was coming their way. Instead, she put all her focus on him and tried to block everything else out.

She mostly succeeded.

...

Hattie was in shock. Hearing that her brother had betrayed MI6 and was now a traitor was heartbreaking. She couldn't understand why he'd done it. She couldn't fathom a reason at all.

"You alright?" her colleague, Roy, asked her, and she shook her head.

"I don't have a family," she answered. "How wretched is that?"

"You'll always have me," Roy said with a smile. She just looked at him, trying not to cry. He patted her shoulder and went to his desk. She put all her focus into trying to breathe.

She hoped that this nightmare would be over soon.

A Month Later

"Where's Dad?" Grace asked, looking up from her book. They were still at the safe house for now, but Deckard was out and still trying to figure out more about Eteon.

"He's out trying to find out what's going on again," Emily answered. "He'll be back soon."

"Are we really safe here?"

"I believe so," Emily replied. She really hoped so. She was ready to go home, though, if there was even a home left to go back to. Brixton had shot it up to hell. Her hand automatically went to cover her scar where she'd been shot. It was healing slowly, but it was a reminder every day that she could have died.

It scared her.

Someone rang the bell, and Emily felt slightly panicked at first. She told Grace to stay put and went to see who it was. She saw a delivery man standing there, and she frowned.

"Grace, did you order food?" she asked as she grabbed the knife from the counter before going to stand in front of the door again. It was booted open into her face, making her yelp and knocking her down. The knife was taken away, and she felt hands working to roll her over and bind her.

"RUN, GRACE! RUN!" she screamed before tape was put over her mouth. She tried to fight back, but there were too many people holding her. Grace was hauled out next, crying and screaming. Emily's heart broke to see them bind her up as well. They were taken out of the house and put into a van. Emily tried not to panic. She had hope that Deckard would find her.

And she wasn't going to let go of that hope until she was dead.

...

Deckard was sitting in his car as he listened to his mother's new voicemail. She was yelling at him now to help her find Owen and asking why he had gone dark. He just couldn't deal with that right now. He deleted the message. Deckard wondered if Eteon had something to do with his brother's disappearance.

His phone rang from an unknown number. He was hesitant, but he thought maybe it would be Owen.

"Yea?"

"Hi Deckard," a smooth female voice said, and Deckard stiffened instantly.

"Who is this?"

"I'm a friend of Owen's."

"Cipher," he said, understanding.

"That's right."

"What do you want?"

"Well, your brother messed up greatly on a job for me, and now it's up to you to fix it."

"Why should I?"

"Well, for starters, he's lying in a military hospital half dead, so if you don't do this for me, I will send someone in there to kill him properly this time. And secondly..." She paused, and his phone beeped with a text. He looked at the photo, and his fingers clenched his phone so tightly it almost snapped in half.

"I don't think I have to tell you what I'll do to them too if you fail," Cipher said softly. "I'll text you the details of the job, but you better get moving."

"You bitch," he started.

"I think you better hold off on the name calling while I'm in charge," she retorted. "And if you had just done this job originally like you were supposed to, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. Talk soon, Deckard." She hung up, and he sat there breathing hard and fast, unable to stop staring at the photograph of Emily and Grace looking so scared.

Then he started screaming.

...

Rusty picked up his phone, frowning at the unknown number.

"Rusty?" a voice asked. Rusty didn't recognize it.

"Yea? What do you want?"

"It's about your sister."

His hand clenched the phone tighter, and fear snaked into his chest. "What about her?" He worked to keep his voice calm.

"She's been kidnapped by a woman named Cipher. Deckard is being blackmailed by her to take out someone named Toretto. You gotta help him, but you have to be discreet. You understand?"

"How do you know this?"

"I've kept tabs on my children," the woman advised. "Please, Rusty, save your sister."

"Mum?" he said, feeling shocked as he suddenly put it together. Was this really happening right now?

"You and I are very alike, Rusty," she went on. "Promise me you never tell Emily I called."

"But..."

"Promise me, Rusty. You take this to your grave."

"Mum, just come home..."

"I can't. Rusty, promise me," Mary said again.

"Where are you?"

"I love you both. I always have. I never stopped. Please forgive me, but I can't be in your lives."

"Mum!"

"Goodbye, son."

"Mum!" he shouted again. She hung up, and he stood there with shaking hands. Where the hell was his mother?! He looked around him, feeling lost and confused. She'd disappeared from their lives and couldn't come home? He didn't understand. He didn't think he ever would. It was going to be one of those mysteries that never got solved. He knew telling Emily would only upset her, so he knew he'd keep his promise to their mother.

He dialed Nobody. He felt panicked among a ton of other emotions but worked to keep himself together. When Nobody answered, Rusty filled him in quickly, and Nobody promised to look into it. Apparently, he'd been keeping an eye on this Toretto person for a while now. Rusty had to trust that Nobody would save his sister. He was stuck in Malaysia dealing with something; he couldn't just up and leave, not without getting killed. It frustrated him to no end. Once it was over, he'd be back in London first thing.

He just hoped his sister would still be alive by then.

...

Emily held onto Grace tightly, trying to soothe her while not losing her shit. She had never liked Cipher, and she couldn't understand why they were being held by her now. Cipher wasn't offering that information. Emily was just left to cope with it. She wondered if Cipher was a part of Eteon.

"It's okay, baby," Emily said to Grace now, smoothing a hand over her head repeatedly. "It's okay."

"Dad's gonna save us, right?"

"He will."

"I'm scared," Grace whispered. Emily saw one of the men look over at them, and she gave him a steely eyed glare until he looked away.

"I know you are, but you're also strong, and despite the fear, you'll get through this," Emily promised. "Okay?"

"Okay."

Emily let Grace bury her face into her chest, and she held her close. She evened her breaths, putting her focus onto something else for now. She knew Deckard would be mad with fear and rage right now. She hoped that he would finish whatever it was Cipher wanted and get to them. She trusted him with all her heart and knew he would.

And then they'd be all back together again.


Just to clarify, the one change I made to a previous chapter was that Hattie hadn't spoken to Deckard for just over a month before Furious 7 and not years before then like I'd had originally said.

I do hope people are still enjoying this story. It is very close to being over.