"Hey, little man, you're up early," Letty said, lifting Marcus from his bed. She'd heard him through the wall, talking to himself and playing with his toy Charger. After half an hour, she figured he wasn't going back to bed anytime soon and left Dom to his dreams. "You wanna get something to eat?"

"Yeah." Marcus yawned and nodded as he was carried downstairs to the kitchen. "Papa?"

Dom had stayed awake till half past two working on his car after Elena texted to say she'd be there by ten. Hobbs was on his way back to Los Angeles, the message said, with company. Who 'company' was, she didn't elaborate on, only that they'd talk when she got to the house. At this point, Letty wasn't sure she even wanted to know the details of Hobbs' trip to Cuba. Cipher, Hobbs, Nobody, and Company: it all added up to one hell of a potential nightmare for their family.

"Papa's sleeping so we gotta be quiet. Let's see, is it Cheerios or Cap'n Crunch today?" Letty said, cradling Marcus against her. It didn't matter that he wasn't her blood, she still loved him nonetheless. The kid hadn't asked to be caught up in all this kidnap and blackmail insanity, nor any kind of custody court drama; and thank God it never came to that. She'd seen it in the papers, all those rich white families who were too stupid and lazy to fight for their relationships, dragging their kids through hell and forcing them to choose who they loved more, only to discover afterwards their kids resented them because of it. She kissed Marcus on the forehead and murmured, "Bet you're glad Papa and your Mamas are smart, huh?"

If Dom had his way, none of them would ever see the inside of a court room again, for any reason. Unless worst came to worst, Hobbs and Nobody were always a phone call away, and the Dominican Republic wasn't far either.

After pouring him a bowl of cereal and sitting him in his highchair, Letty put his favourite morning cartoons on and got herself a bowl too. With what lay ahead of them today, she'd need all her energy just to be able to stand there and listen as Hobbs once again put the weight on their shoulders. Dragging them into his and Nobody's dramas again? No, she was sick of this, sick of all of it. Why couldn't Dom have just called and said no, said he wasn't putting his wife and child in harm's way; told them he wouldn't be risking his life again for someone who claimed to have his best interests at heart yet repeatedly put him on death's doorstep every time Dom helped him without fail.

She sank into the couch and sighed, bowl in one hand and spoon in her mouth. Hair unbrushed and day old clothes stained with grease, she glanced at Marcus and smiled to herself. The days when he wasn't here, everything was quiet and peaceful, they fixed cars and worked in the reopened cafe serving not-so-crappy tuna sandwiches. One day, Dom came home and said the neighbours loved Marcus. He couldn't get to Harry's without someone going ga-ga over the kid and pointing out just how much Marcus looked like his father.

The days when he was physically present in their lives, however, were a mad balancing act between excitement and work.

"Momma."

"Wh—" Letty rolled her eyes at the sight of Marcus with a trail of milk down his top. Luckily neither of them had gotten cleaned up yet. It was easier to hold off on showers and baths till after breakfast, given he was yet to learn how to wield a spoon properly. He'd get the hang of it this year, Elena said, and maybe Dom would learn how to say 'no' to Hobbs too. "We'll deal with that later."

And she did. By the time Dom woke, looking a little worse for wear, Letty had cleaned herself and Marcus up and taken him across the street to Mia and Brian's house. She left a note on the table saying as much, along with a promise that everything would be okay. God help her, Letty would be the one in charge of the team this time, not Dom. He, Elena, and Marcus were the ones in need of protection from Cipher and her ilk.

Jack and Marcus chased each other around the house, albeit slowly. Marcus could only walk so fast without losing his balance. And Sophie, well, she had much more interesting things to do than run around the house. There were cupboards not investigated and beds she'd not yet hidden beneath; she'd also discovered a door left open that was normally her proverbial undefeated Goliath.

She was the spitting image of her mom too, with dark brown hair and those warm Toretto eyes that lit up at the sight of a muscle car. Sophie hadn't yet decided whether crashing cars into dolls or masterminding car wrecks in her room was more fun, but in the end it didn't matter for her. It all led to a pile of adventure on the carpet of her and Jack's room, one which she could partake in.

Dom wandered across the road after he woke to find the house empty and Letty's note on the table. Brian and Mia were sitting on the front step, and Letty was now chasing all three kids around the yard. Marcus waved but kept walking till at last he tripped and faceplanted the grass only to push himself up and begin giggling. Dom just smiled, crouched on the lawn, and opened his arms wide so Marcus could run into them if he wanted to.

"Papa!"

He grunted and fell back onto the grass when Marcus jumped on him. With the warmth of the sun on his face and a large toddler clambering up his chest, Dom felt more relaxed and at ease than he had all night. His son would be safe with Elena, he told himself, he had no doubts about her capability to protect Marcus but still he worried about her.

"You ready to go home?"

"Here." Marcus patted Dom's chest. He'd picked up a few more words over the past two weeks, enough that it seemed like he truly did understand what everyone was saying. "Home."

"I know, but Papa's gotta go drive cars." He sighed and reached up to pat Marcus's hair down as it was blown every which way by the wind. It didn't take long before Letty decided to join him on the grass and Dom found his head lifted into her lap. To some it probably seemed like a small gesture, but Letty knew how significant it was to Dom. Throughout all their years, he'd been the one to lift her, till Mexico. Then she chose to combine her weight with his and somehow carried them both, hoping that would've been their last encounter with the law, and solidifying further the level of his respect that she already had. "And Mama would kill me if I left you here alone."

You're not wrong about that, she thought. Letty waved when she saw Elena in her small Nissan pull into their driveway with Marcus's seat in the back. Finally, the combination of fear and impatience that had been weighing her down since she found the note could be lifted off her chest. Before Cipher's interference in their lives, Letty might've found herself resenting what'd happened between Dom and Elena; it was fortunate then she'd felt the pain of loss and fear come Dom's sudden betrayal, and found herself understanding how much someone could need the emotional support provided by a sympathetic ear. "Should I talk to her, or do you want to do it?"

Dom lifted his head from her lap and sat upright. "This involves all of us now," he said, passing Marcus to Letty so he could get to his feet. Dom helped her up and walked over to their house with Marcus and Letty in tow. "I—" He was weak when it came to her. Dom was brave enough to admit that now. She was the most important person in his life and he couldn't lose her again. "I need you with me on this, Letty."

"You know I'll ride with you." She squeezed his free hand and smiled. "Because I'm not ready to die, you got that?"

He said nothing to any of them once things calmed down, not even Eric. Shaw separated herself from her brothers, and Deckard and Owen went outside to 'talk'. Luke found himself a canvas seat and slumped down on the netting, groaned and stretched his arms, and waited for their ride to arrive. Now that the wild goose chase was over, they could get down to business and start hunting Cipher.

For him, the last two months had been a combination of restlessness and exhaustion. With the help of a dozen mechanics and welders, Luke had pulled his car apart and enhanced it. As to whether it would hold up on the road, well, the proof was in the pudding. A newly reinforced Gurkha with runflat inserts, a protected chassis, and bulletproof windows, designed to take a hit from an RPG and keep on going, awaited him at the Toy Shop.

Once he was given an ice pack for the swelling, Eric made the call to Mr. Nobody and told him they were ready for pickup. Seated on the stairs that led to the second floor of the plane, things kept on ticking over in his head and all the pieces invariably fell apart the moment he tried connecting them. It wasn't viable to have Owen in the same room as Dom and Letty, Hobbs and their history made that clear, but he was also their meal ticket. Elizabeth had proved unwilling to play ball without the gun to his head, and Owen seemed uninterested by the righteous aspect of the mission.

Now he understood how the Shaws had gone rogue so easily. Owen was the glue that precariously held the trio together. Without him present, they would drift apart and go their separate ways. Elizabeth had shown no inclination to follow Deckard's command without incentive, nor any unwavering loyalty. He'd seen how she gravitated towards Owen, and upon hearing Hobbs' recount of how willing Deckard was to kill Toretto, Eric finally understood Owen was the family's linchpin.

From a distance it made no sense, but given time and experience, he would catch on. The next few months would give him more than enough insight into the family and its inner workings, provided he survived them. Deckard was the eldest, the one keeping them in line, so it felt natural to assume he was at the center. To find Owen there instead was a surprise. It was one Eric should've seen coming after reading their files, but somehow it slipped his notice. The ops team had also chosen to save themselves the embarassment of informing him of what'd taken place when they picked the Shaws up. He hadn't asked and they weren't willing to tell anyone bar a nonjudgmental Hobbs.

"So what happens now, Fed?" Elizabeth said, breaking the silence that'd taken over the plane. Once Owen had gone outside, she'd moved to sit in the doorway of the SUV. That prayer to St. Dismus would have to wait. Her brothers not being within line of sight had left her on edge and Reisner's threats hadn't gone unheard. The fortunate thing was Hobbs' presence: he was more intimidating and ruthless than any of them. "You say 'jump' and I say 'how high, sir?'"

"Something like that." Luke fiddled with the strap that secured his revolver, clasping and unclasping it, running his fingers over the butt and trigger guard. Thankfully Mr. Nobody had said he'd arrive soon with three cars for transport of the assault team and themselves. "Who funded your life in Cuba? Two and a half years: that's a long time to go without a connect to the mob."

She shrugged. It was Cipher, she assumed. Elizabeth didn't know. She'd chosen not to ask and whomever it was never revealed themselves. Cipher seemed like the obvious answer, given she'd thrown eighteen months of her life away so the woman could get her device — till Owen fucked it all up and lost that billion dollar payout. It felt right when she thought about. Elizabeth took a dive and left Cipher indebted to her, then she freed Elizabeth from prison, supported her for a few years and repaid said debt. "I don't know."

"You're lying."

"I did eighteen months because you couldn't even manage something as simple as doing your fucking job," Elizabeth snapped. Her a liar? She couldn't tell him something she didn't know. In two and a half years, no one had ever owned up to being her benefactor, Cipher included. Being in the dark about something that was altogether unimportant in the long run didn't faze her. "I wake up one day and get escorted to a meeting room. There's a lawyer standing on the other side of the barrier and they tell me there's been a paperwork mishap, that I can finally leave. When freedom knocks, you don't ask questions."

He didn't need to know how bad things had gotten. Hell, none of this was his business either. It successfully shut Hobbs up, however. At least she thought it had. He stared at her from his seat, badge now gripped tight in his hands and sat there with a predatory stillness about him. Elizabeth stared back, teeth grit and eyes ablaze with anger. If he wanted to hear it, she'd tear him a new one and send his arse back to whatever secret government lab he'd been born in.

"I was there because I was doing my job." Hobbs shook his head in disgust and stood. Someone had a temper and it certainly wasn't him. How the four of them were expected to work together and function as a coherent team seemed more and more like an impossible feat with each passing minute. It'd been on Mr. Nobody's insistence that they go to Cuba in the first place; given their poor odds of success, it felt right to come up empty-handed. "You could've flipped and ended it before he got on that plane. We would've taken Owen down and stopped Cipher before it even came to this."

Of course it was on her. He'd been the one wasting his time in Russia, knowing full well the odds of her becoming a traitor were slim to none, yet Hobbs had insisted on going after her instead of Owen. "And then you went after my brother and 'did your job' again, and this time you murdered my friend. She died alone in a ditch and you're the bastard that put her there!"

It would've come out eventually. All the pain, the anger; the explosion that came with bottling up her emotions. She'd taken to laying on the floor of the SUV for the duration of the flight so her brothers wouldn't notice her bottom lip trembling, or her reddened eyes. And it'd worked. Her feigned apathy and acceptance had kept the façade up long enough for her to make it to their destination without falling apart. It'd taken Owen all of two minutes to tell her the who, what, and how, of Riley's death, but it would take her far longer than that to process and grieve.

Luke frowned when she walked away with the last word. He'd killed her friend? More than one life had been lost in the process of catching the Shaws. It wasn't as if the faces of those he killed became lodged in his mind; after the first few times Luke found himself confronted with death as a part of his job, he began to realise the faces blurred together. Only some stood out, not counting the losses he'd experienced himself. If she expected him to be able to remember every death that could possibly be laid at his feet, they'd be here till sunset.

"What did you tell her while I was asleep?" Deckard said, looking towards the plane. It wasn't hard to hear the rage in her voice, or the heavy footsteps that followed. She stormed down the ramp and past them, eyes welling with tears and fists clenched. For a moment there was even a pang of sympathy in his chest as he shoved his fists in his pockets and resisted the urge to smack his brother upside the head. "Jesus, Owen, you told her about Spain, didn't you?"

"It was either that or play twenty questions." He knew how to manipulate her, which buttons to push so she'd think with her heart instead of her head. Her penchant for logic and rationality were a problem when Owen needed her pissed off and ready for war. Isolating her was merely the fastest way of getting her in that desired state of mind. "If I didn't tell her, she'd never be able to focus. She'd sit there thinking about going back instead of the here and now, and she'd leave a hundred voicemails on Riley's cell wondering where she is."

"I thought you said Ortiz did it," Deckard hissed. This was the last thing they needed. If she walked away now, they'd be a man down and he didn't want to be spending a week finding someone with the same skill set. "Did you even think about it before you—"

"Same difference." He wasn't in the mood to argue semantics. Not with Beth, and certainly not with Deckard. All Owen wanted was to get this ridiculous mission over and done with and return to London before they realised his offshore bank accounts were brimming with cash. "He gave her the weapon and Letty fired it. Hobbs was as much involved as anyone."

"And what if she leaves?"

"She won't."

That's what he thought. Deckard had seen her walk away plenty of times. The morning of her eighteenth birthday, she'd gotten on that plane to Russia and never looked back; why did Owen think the result of this would be any different? "I wouldn't be so sure of that. Now you can go be the sympathetic ear and caring brother while I tell Hobbs you just potentially screwed the mission before it's even begun."

Or they could sit back and watch the fireworks. Keeping a divide in place could only work in his favour. Feds vs. criminals, the British versus the Americans: so long as someone was given enemies to fight against, or perceived an enemy in some form or another, they had focus and drive. Take that away and most people became aimless spectators on the sidelines, imbeciles who only got in the way. Given her lack of military experience and training, Owen didn't want to see her become one of the liabilities he'd find himself ready to discard at a moment's notice.

"Deckard, you wanna tell me what the hell that was about?" Luke said, walking down the ramp with Eric. He'd called Nobody again and found out the cars were only a few minutes away, which meant it was time to start getting their shit together and play happy families. "Is she going to be a problem or can you get a handle on her?"

"I'll sort it, Hobbs," Deckard said, giving Owen an 'I'll deal with you later' look. "You just worry about selling this plan to Toretto."