Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TFTF characters.
Author's Note: Hello everyone. I'm a little disappointed, I didn't get very many reviews last chapter... am I boring you? Should I kill someone? ;)
Anyway, this is the second Dom/Letty alone moment. It is decidedly longer than the first and has a somewhat different ending...
Read and Review Please.
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"...and they lived happily ever after." Letty whispered, closing the book softly.
They were sprawled out on the sofa -- her, the girls, and Taylor. All three children laying on top of her in odd positions, and hopefully all three were now sound asleep.
Mia was asleep. Upstairs. And the guys were at the club. It had taken a lot of coaxing but they'd managed to convince Dom to go.
Dom, who had steadfastly refused to leave his son this afternoon. Taylor had been no worse for wear after his little adventure.
After, of course, his lion had been returned to him.
The moment the boy realized he'd left it on the roof, he'd unleashed a scream that had everyone's blood curdling.
Leon had quickly run up and retrieved it for him.
"Thank you." he'd said, sniffling.
Afterwards Mia had asked if he'd like to go get an ice cream with her. He'd nodded, slowly, then smiled up at her, "Yes Auntie."
Letty had the feeling that Mia had won herself a loyal follower by being his side during his almost punishment.
She sighed quietly, examining the sleeping children, wondering if there was anyway for her to extricate herself without waking them.
Leon had told her that Dom had stood up twice during her ordeal with the girls, he'd been intent on putting a stop to it.
Both times he'd been detained by Mia.
Mia who had spent the afternoon with Dom and Taylor, instead of with Letty and Taylor.
It had been nice for her, a chance to get reacquainted with the older brother she'd so adored.
They'd spoken of nothing intimate, nothing that could produce too much emotion. This day had already seen enough of the stuff.
Letty had stayed in -- with the girls.
The girls who hadn't gone for ice cream.
Who wouldn't be going for a while.
She couldn't bring herself to actually leave the house to do something fun without them. So instead she'd taken two plates of food up to their room and just talked.
They'd ended up playing hungry-hungry hippos on the floor. Letty was hard-pressed to think of anything else she'd rather have done with her afternoon off.
Vince and Leon had convinced Dom to go to the club with them, Mia convinced Brian that it was alright for him to go too, and an hour after they'd left Letty had convinced Mia she needed to go to bed.
Dom had left Taylor ready for bed and the girls had been very docile all afternoon and into the evening. The result had been a very quiet night. She'd made sure they were all tucked in and then had wandered downstairs in search of left-over's and the remote control.
Everything had been fine until Jessa had rushed downstairs, her blue eyes wide with fright to tell her that something was wrong with Taylor.
Shit.
Was her first thought, not again. Racing up the stairs -- as quietly as she could, she didn't want to wake Mia -- she'd found Dolly sitting on the bed next to a thrashing Taylor.
He had been in the throes of a nightmare and Letty had had no choice but to wake him.
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"It was just dream, sweetie..." she murmured, pulling him up on to her lap, "...just a dream, come on -- wake up," she added softly as she shook him a little.
His muttering ceased and his eyes shot open. He darted up in her arms, his body stiff, his breathing labored, his eyes flitting about the room still glazed from sleep -- he looked terrified, "Da...daddy..." he called.
"Daddy's not here, honey, but it's okay. It was just a dream." Letty said softly attempting to comfort the boy. She smoothed his hair gently and rubbed his back, "It's okay..." she repeated when he didn't seem to hear her.
"Why don't we go downstairs for few minutes so you can get some water." She suggested a few moments later when he seemed about to cry.
He nodded, reaching for the lion, that lay next to him.
She went to stand but he did not release her, so she lifted him with her, "Come on girls.." she said Taylor in her arms, "...and be quiet we don't want to wake your mom."
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And quiet they'd been, they'd traveled downstairs and sat in the kitchen for a good half an hour. At first she'd tried to coax out of Taylor what the dream had been about it -- that had led no where.
He didn't remember.
He was however, very clingy, and she was reminded yet again that he was really no more than a toddler.
A toddler who'd had a rough day.
The girls, too, had had a rough day.
At the thought a feeling, of wanting to make it up to them, swelled in her.
Had Mia been awake she would have adamantly told her absolutely not -- but Mia wasn't awake and Letty was the only other adult in the house.
So at 11:48 PM -- she, the girls, and Taylor had sat down at the kitchen table to color -- using Taylor's supplies -- eat cookies, and drink hot chocolate -- made by Letty.
The girls had colored one picture and Taylor and Letty another -- the lion. Afterwards she'd tried to herd them into bed, but Taylor had asked if he could wait for his dad.
Letty had said no, or tried to.
The result being the reason why she was trapped underneath the sleeping children. Her head on one of the arm rests, while Dolly lay parallel to her on the inside of the sofa -- her head on Letty's left shoulder, Jessa lay slightly diagonalled -- her head on Letty's right shoulder while her feet tangled with her sisters, Taylor lay half on top of Jessa and the other half straight across Letty's torso, the lion's tale on her chin.
It wasn't so bad when they were all awake and she could shift them, but with their full weight's atop her she was having difficulty drawing a breath let alone moving.
Sighing, she wiggled a little, Dolly moaned and cuddled closer -- can't do that. Shifting her foot slightly, she managed to free it, only to have Jessa flip over -- tossing her leg on top.
Great, she thought, rolling her eyes, could this day get any better.
The key in the lock announced -- yes, this day could get better.
"That girl was all over you..." Brian was saying as he entered, a little too loudly.
"Shhhhhhhh" Letty hissed, as Taylor frowned in his sleep.
Brian stared, "What the hell...." he began, surveying her.
Dom shoved him, "Shut up." he whispered.
Brian walked over to the couch and stared down at Letty, grinning, "Having fun?" He whispered.
She glared at him.
Dom had closed the door and now stood at the other side of the couch, also grinning down at her.
He couldn't help it, the look on her face said she had no idea how adorable she looked; laying there covered in children.
"Need some help?" he asked quietly.
"If you wouldn't mind," she got out through gritted teeth. What the fuck did they think was so funny?
Brian laughed, he reached down and lifted Dolly off her. Dom removed Taylor and she sat up holding Jessa.
As quietly as they could they went upstairs.
Taylor suddenly came alive in his father's grasp, as they neared the door to his bedroom, "mmmmm, no, L-wetty..." he murmured sleepily.
"Time for bed, buddy," Dom answered him as lightly as could. Slowly, he entered the room. Ignoring the lurch of his heart at hearing his son call for Letty in that sleepy voice...
"Daddy?" he asked opening his eyes a little.
"Yeah Tay, it's daddy. It's very late, you need to sleep, now, kay."
Taylor nodded, his eyes closing, as he murmured, "....ba...dream...let...col..." He was asleep and Dom smiled tenderly at his little boy.
He'd get the full story tomorrow.
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Out in the hallway both Brian and Letty were emerging from putting the girls to bed.
"You sleepin over Let?" Brian asked, grinning, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
She glared at him, "You know better." She stated, seriously.
He didn't seem to mind her mood, "Hey, just checkin, I mean your bed warmer's..."
She stomped on his foot, cutting off his next words.
"Owww!!!" he exclaimed, earning himself two simultaneous "Shhhhhhhh"
He was still hopping on foot when the door to his bedroom opened, Mia stood there in her nightgown. Her dark hair down around her shoulders, "Brian?" she asked drowsily.
He immediately forgot his foot, nearly running over to her.
Dom smiled slightly, Brian loved his sister, that was sure as hell.
"Dom you'll walk Letty out and shut off the lights." Brian said from the doorway, his arm wrapped proactively over Mia's shoulders.
It was posed as a question but no answer was expected, it was a command and by the look on his sister's face it hadn't come from him. Quiet "Goodnight's" were offered by both before the door was shut.
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"Well..." Letty said softly, in the now too quiet hallway.
Dom nodded, "Well..." he repeated, studying her.
Her hair had long since come loose of the pony tail, falling around her face -- framing it, giving it the look of wind blown innocence that was so hard to achieve when one sought it.
She had no make-up on, and the jewelry had been removed sometime through out the day.
Probably when she'd been playing with the girls, he thought absentmindedly.
What did it matter when she'd removed the jewelry?
Why did he care?
Why did she have to be so god-dammed beautiful?
Why did she have to look at him with those dark eyes? Those eyes that never missed anything, that never forgave -- that told him before he dared ask that she would never forget.
The dimness of the hallway was too intimate for him suddenly. Without a word he turned and headed for the stairs.
She seemed startled when he moved, silently she too headed for the stairs, realizing that she'd been more right than she'd believed possible -- yes, this day could get better.
She'd been too right, indeed.
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It was too much to hope he'd be waiting for her with the door open, Letty thought, sullenly as she finished descending the stairs.
He was waiting for her in the middle of the living room.
"Letty..." he began but she headed directly for the door.
"Thanks for walking me out, Dom. Have a good night." She said quickly opening the door.
He put his hand on it, stopped it from opening all the way.
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Just one?" she asked quickly, smiling a little, hoping to distract him, to put this off.
She would rather eat dirt than talk to him for a second.
He smiled a little too, but his eyes said he wasn't going to be put off, "Can I talk to you for a few minutes?" he asked now.
"As appealing as that sounds..." she began her tone stating she meant the complete opposite, "...it is really late..." she was using the reasonable approach. It had never worked in the past, not with the old Dom, but this Dom seemed to be much more reasonable. "... or I guess you could say it's really early..." she shrugged lightly, looking uncomfortable, "...and I have to be at work in a few hours, so maybe we can do this some other time..." she finished.
He nodded, but made no move to release the door, "I'd say yes to that Let but I can't help but feel that you'll be avoiding me my entire visit." He paused, "At least that's what Brian says."
"He's wrong." Letty stated, firmly and a tad indignantly Who the hell did Brian think he was? Talking about her to him?
"I have no reason to avoid you." She said steadily, releasing the door knob and stepping back.
He nodded again, closing the door, "That's what I said."
"Great." She said, feeling anything back.
She was having that feeling again, the one she'd had when she'd first seen him in the kitchen yesterday,
The one that told her to get the hell out of there.
"The kitchen good for you?" he asked, "I'm starvin..."
She nodded, following him.
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"So what happened with the kids tonight?" he asked as he opened the refrigerator, he was trying to break the ice, he was trying to get her talking, he was trying to drum up enough fuckin courage to do what he needed to do.
"Oh right, about that...." she said, suddenly concerned, "Taylor had a nightmare."
He stopped pulling out the trimmings for a sandwich, and looked over at her, his gaze compelling, "What kind of nightmare?"
She shrugged, not meeting those eyes, "He didn't scream or anything, just thrashed around. When he woke up though, he looked terrified and told me he couldn't remember what it'd been about."
Dom nodded slowly, going back to his raid of the fridge. When he was finished he stood at the counter, preparing his meal. It was obvious he had no plans to share any details of his son's life with her.
Which was fine. She didn't want to know anyway....
"Want one?" he asked as he laid out his ingredients, pulling her out of her thoughts.
She glared at him, "What the fuck Dom? I just told you I gotta go, say what you gotta say so I can leave."
The sudden outburst shocked him, he actually stared at her.
She sounded like... like....Letty.
She is Letty, you ass, the annoying little voice in his head told him.
He knew it was true... it was just that she sounded like... like his Letty.
As soon as the thought materialized he eradicated it.
The misguided thought did, however, serve to upset him considerably -- why the hell couldn't he stop thinking of her as his?
He found himself glaring back at her, "You don't gotta fuckin curse at me. I'm just askin."
She took a breath, set her jaw and answered, "No, Dom, I don't want a sandwich."
"Kay," he growled at her.
Only fuckin Letty could get him this upset in two seconds flat over a sandwich, he thought grimly, turning to get a knife.
"Well...." she said impatiently when he turned back.
"Well what?"
She rolled her eyes, "Well what do you want?"
He looked down again, intent on smothering mayo and mustard on bread.
How was he going to do this? What exactly was he going to say to her? That he was sorry?
Hell, he'd beat the shit out of himself for sayin somthin lame like that.
"Shit," he growled, as the glob of mayo he'd had on his knife fell onto the counter instead of his bread.
He reached out to get a rag from the sink but when he brought it back he took the mustard bottle down. "Arrrg..." he growled, as he attempted to simultaneously, get the bottle back to its position and to wipe the counter clean.
All he did was create a film of mayo and mustard over the counter and spilling excess onto the floor. "Fuck!! what the hell is wrong with this?" he asked no one in particular, staring at the rag in his hand.
Letty shoved him aside, suddenly, ripping the rag from his grasp, "Move. Jesus Dom, you'd think you'd learn how to make a sandwich by now." She said as she wet the rag and then bent to the floor. Standing up, she continued, "How the hell do you feed that kid?"
"I can make a sandwich." he said as credibly as he could, trying to force himself back in front of the counter.
"Yes, I can see that." She said smirking and pushing him away, "Just let me, will you. Mia'll freak if you dirty her kitchen."
"Fine." he said angrily, storming over to the table and sitting down.
"Fine." She reiterated heatedly, slathering mustard on one side. "And be fuckin quiet will you, we don't want to wake the whole freakin house."
He made no response to that, obviously she was pissed.
What he'd done to cause that, he couldn't quite remember.
But then again that had always been the way with them -- they'd be angry with each other for days and by the time they'd make up neither could remember the original problem had been.
They'd always made-up though, and the make-up well....
She worked in silence for a few minutes, before placing the plate in front of him.
It had cheese on the side.
That's how he liked it -- cause sometimes he wanted cheese and sometimes he didn't, but he never knew until he started eating.
So she'd always put it on the side, for him.
She'd always made his sandwiches.
It was a stupid little gesture, probably unconscious on her part, but it brought with a surge of memories, a rush of feelings.
He grabbed her arm as she turned, "Letty?" he said softly, all anger gone.
She didn't turn, -- maybe not so unconscious, he thought, maybe she felt it too. The kitchen was filled with it suddenly -- with memories.
She couldn't turn, refused to, didn't want to look at him, to see the expression on his face.
"What?" she asked.
Was that her voice? So tiny? So hesitant?
Oh god don't let him bring any of it up. Oh please.
She didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to remember it.
"Letty?" he said, his hand tightening.
Oh fuck you Dom, she thought despairingly, he was going to make her face him.
"What?" she nearly whimpered as she turned.
"Thank You."
Thank You?
He's thanking me...
... for the sandwich.
She sighed, smiling a little, "Sure, no problem, it's just food."
But he didn't release her, "Not just for the sandwich but... for today. If it hadn't been for you..."
She yanked her arm away, cutting him off, "It was no big deal."
Hurriedly she began stuffing ingredients into the refrigerator.
He stood, "It was a big deal. Letty..." She wasn't paying attention to him. He grabbed her arm as she shut the fridge door.
"Let go of me, Dom." her voice was steady, but she wouldn't look at him.
"Look at me."
He waited -- nothing.
She wasn't going to meet his eyes, she told herself, she couldn't think when she did.
...could only feel.
"Letty please..." he said softly, moving to stand in front of her. He released her arm and gently with his forefinger, lifted her chin until he could see into her eyes.
She let him.
"There is nothing I can say, nothing I could ever do to repay for what you did today."
His voice rumbled through her.
"I..." she couldn't speak, couldn't think.
He continued.
"I owe you my son's life." He said, his voice deep, reverberating with emotion.
They stood like that for few moments -- gazing at each other. Both refusing to think of what could have.
Both unable to not think of what had been.
She pulled away, suddenly, muttering a hasty, "You're welcome."
He let her pull away, had to, because what he was feeling... what he was feeling wasn't part of the plan...
His sandwich forgotten, he watched her wash off the knife and put the things away.
Taking a deep breath he put things back into perspective.
He was going to apologize, so he could finally cut all the emotional ties that bonded them together.
So that meetings with her would stop leaving him unbalanced and shaky, so that he could give everything he had to give to Kara, so he'd be free of her...
"Letty, I..." he began, as she dried her hands.
"I really have to go now Dom..." she said cutting him off.
"I want to talk to you." he said.
"You have, it's what we've been doing. And as great as its been," the sarcasm again, "..I need to go," she rounded the counter.
"Letty..." He called out his voice exasperated.
"What?" she demanded, turning to face him.
"I... I..."
She arched an eyebrow, waiting, impatiently.
"You don't sleep over anymore?"
Where the hell that had come from he didn't know. All he knew was that she was leaving and he had to stop that, he had to say something to stop her.
She sighed, angrily, "No, Dom, I don't. Look, today was long. I'm tired and I have to work tomorrow. Good-night."
He watched her turn around, she was leaving...
... she was at the kitchen door...
... about to open it...
"Letty, I'm sorry."
The words gushed out of him, not in the resolute glory he'd wanted them to. But in a mere whisper of words -- full of remorse and sorrow, tainted with pain.
She paused at the door...
...but didn't turn back -- wouldn't turn back.
Quickly, she exited the kitchen, wishing she could fly out of this house -- in reality she was practically running.
He reached her though, grabbing her forearm and swinging her around to face him.
Her dark eyes were angry, glimmering with unshed tears, "LET ME GO," she gritted out, as quietly as she could; her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.
He didn't though. He held her and said it again, "I'm sorry Letty. I'm so sorry..."
She struggled against his hold, refusing once again to meet his gaze, "For what Dom? huh? For what are you god-dammed sorry? For cheating on me? For treating me like shit the whole time we were going out? For making me feel..."
"I'm sorry for everything..." He said, cutting her off firmly, then added, grief tingeing his words, "...but especially for that night."
She stopped struggling.
In fact, for a moment, he thought she stopped breathing; then, slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his.
The anger was gone, replaced by sorrow.
In those eyes he saw that night and in her pain he saw his own.
He hadn't factored that into his apology, the fact that she'd hurt him just as badly.
It hadn't occurred to him that when faced with her pain, he'd have to recall his own.
The anguish that had driven him to abandon everything he'd ever known; that had made him run --fast and far-- without ever looking back.
"Let's not do this, Dom," she whispered.
And he didn't doubt the wisdom of that suggestion.
Unfortunately, it was too late now.
He'd yanked off the wound's scab...
...and now it was oozing blood...
...now it demanded medical attention.
He released her.
"I don't want to do anything Letty. I just... I wanted you to know that I..." he didn't know where to go from here, didn't know what to say.
She had those amazing dark pools fastened on his face and they were filled with that night...
Jesus, he could see every expression, hear every word...
God they'd been brutal.
"That you're sorry," she said her voice bitter, "...incidentally Dom, I spoke to the girls this afternoon about how sorry can't fix everything."
"I'm not trying to fix it, I just..."
"Good, because you can't. What you did..."
"Hell, Letty I wasn't the only who did that night." He said, angry suddenly.
"If I remember correctly, and I do, you did first!"
"Yeah well, I wouldn't worry cause you did worst!"
"I did worst! Dom you slept with that tramp I called a friend."
"You did it in our bed!"
"You said my abusive, drunk, jackass of a father was right about me!!"
"You said Jesse was my fault!!!"
Their voices had been raised by then, it said a lot about the acoustics of the house that no one woke up.
Letty's eyes widened at this accusation, her hand flew to her mouth, "Oh god," she muttered, feeling nauseated suddenly. She'd known she'd said that, had given it much thought throughout the years. But suddenly confronted with Dom, hearing it from him, it hit home -- she'd blamed him.
The tears that filled her eyes surprised Dom, made him look away.
He looked away because they weren't full of anger now or pain; now they full of remorse.
He didn't want to see her remorse.
"Dom," she began quietly, "...when I said.."
"Letty, don't." he cut her off.
She narrowed her eyes, taking a step closer to him, "Why not? Why do you get to apologize but not me?"
He faced her, and she nearly gasped. The pain etched on his features was deep, it was a sorrow that had worked its way up and out, not just from his heart but from his soul.
An injured soul.
She knew it instantly.
Had she done that?
Had she wounded his soul?
"Because," he answered her, slowly, firmly, his voice capturing all her attention, "I was wrong and you were right."
She couldn't think, his voice just rumbled around in her head, his words making no sense.
He took a step closer to her, wanting to see into her, wanting her to see into him.
"I was wrong," he repeated, then continued, "-- your father was wrong about you, very wrong, and had he been even a quarter of the human being you are, he would have realized that on his deathbed at least."
He paused, then continued softly, his eyes not meeting hers, "You were right -- Jesse's blood is on my hands."
She shook her head, vigorously, the tears falling -- they always did at the mention of Jesse, "No Dom, I was wrong, I was wrong to blame you. I shouldn't have."
He faced away from her, shrugging those massive shoulders, "Why not? I did. I do..."
Instinctively she reached out and touched his arm, wanting to ease his pain, "Well don't," she said firmly.
"How can I not Let?" he asked his voice tortured, his head bent.
She knew it was a question he'd asked himself a million times.
"He was my responsibility," he added, so quietly she almost missed it.
She brought herself directly in front him, moved her face so that it was mere inches away from this. The urge to help him, to ease his guilt, so strong in her, it blocked everything else.
In that moment she wasn't his ex, he wasn't the man who'd hurt her; she didn't have to go to work in the morning, they weren't in a house full of sleeping people; she wasn't engaged, he wasn't married.
In that moment, they were just two people who'd known each other for a very, very long time -- trying to make the hurt go away.
"Dom, everyone makes there own choices in life. What happened with Jesse was... horrible, tragic, but it wasn't your fault. He chose to bet his car, he chose to run, it wasn't your fault." She said her voice almost pleading.
She was drawing on the conversations she and the team had had during the past five years; conversations in which they'd all tried to ease the others' sense of guilt.
Still, Dom shook his head, "He counted on me to back him up. He counted on me to be there."
"You tried to be there but your human just like everybody else, Dom. You can't fix everything. Sometimes... things are just meant to be and we can't change them. No matter how much we wish we could."
She paused, and taking a deep breath continued, "I was wrong. If anything all of us were equally to blame for Jesse's death."
She saw then, there were tears in his eyes.
"I was more responsible." he whispered after a moment, looking into her.
Wanting to make her believe those words, yearning that she wouldn't.
"No," she insisted, "...you weren't. And I..." a lump formed in her throat, "I'm sorry I told you, you were."
As he'd done to her earlier, she reached out now, and gently moved his face so that he had no choice but to meet her eyes.
A sob rose up in her throat, "I didn't mean it." she cried.
He lifted his head then, moving his entire body to face her, looking into her eyes, caressing her with his eyes, "Don't cry, Let," he said tenderly, reaching out and wiping a tear away.
"I hate to see you cry," he added softly after a moment, his hand still on her cheek.
Neither was yet aware of just how close they really were.
They'd been standing near the staircase, when Dom had turned away from her he'd faced it.
In her effort to see his face she'd nearly pressed up against him.
With his hand on her cheek, it was only too natural for her to lay it against his palm, as she whimpered, "I miss him."
Dom nodded, his thumb stroking her face, his other hand instinctively finding her waist, "Me too," he murmured.
She leaned into him, his arm wrapped around her protectively. The hand on her face sliding over to her neck.
"I like to imagine sometimes what he'd be doing, you know, where he'd be in his life." he continued, his hand stroking her back, with the familiarity of days gone by.
His body had molded against hers, recognizing her instantly, his head dropping down -- laying his cheek against her hair, nuzzling her gently.
She nodded against him, muttering, "I do that sometimes too," as she inhaled a shaky breath. "Imagine what stuff he'd be coming up with for the garage, or what girls he'd be datin."
Her voice was so soft, her hair was so soft, hell all of her was soft...
"Imagine it had never happened..." Dom finished for her, his lips on her hair.
She nodded against him, then slowly looked up. Their eyes met for instant before he lowered his lips to hers.
It was nothing really, just feel of the others lips for nothing more than an instant, both relishing the feel -- without registering it.
When registration did come. It was a bite in the ass, it came sharp as a blade and loud as the blaring of a siren.
They sprung apart simultaneously, with the speed of a child singed by fire.
With wide eyes they stared at each other -- neither saying anything --horror evident on both their faces.
That had not been meant to happen, that much was clear.
Without so much as a pretense of decorum Letty turned around and ran out of the house, leaving the door ajar.
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Sinking slowly to the floor, Dom dropped his head into his hands, it seemed his brain had taken an unexpected hiatus without informing him.
He couldn't even get to the door to close it.
He sat there, not knowing where to begin to organize what the hell had just happened.
The only thing he did know was that that had not gone as planned.
Apologies had not been forgiven...
...bonds had not been cut...
...he was not free...
If anything the bonds had been tightened, and he was now more than ever a prisoner.
Groaning, he stood up slowly, one thought swirling in his head -- I need a beer.
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Next Chapter: Letty examines what the hell just happened.
