Disclaimer - I do not own anything affiliated with Universal studios because that is where The Fast and the Furious comes from and I am merely using the characters from their films for creative purposes. There are also many, many songs that inspire certain chapters that I use as a sort of muse for the way I want things to pan out. So please, don't sue me for using your material. I mean no harm. It is all in the name of entertainment. And I can't afford it.

AN: So glad you all seem to be enjoying this so far. Here's another update for you, a little short but it's a sort of filler chapter I guess. Anyway, I'm going to write chapter eight (way ahead as you can tell).Have fun - Jet.

Coffee, Cigarettes and Apologies

By Jet-Indigo

Chapter Three – Ghost Man on Third

"Shit Henry, we gotta get him to a hospital!"

"Don't you think I know that? Just shut up a minute okay?" He ordered, pressing his thumb and forefinger together at the bridge of his nose. He looked back in the seat at his brother, sprawled across the back seat. His bandaged arm was held close to his body while his free arm was tightly gripping the re-opened wound. Blood was seeping through his fingers and his arm trembled, desperately trying to keep pressure on the hole in his side. His eyes were clamped shut tightly.

"Vince?" Henry spoke softly, twisting further in his seat so that he was half over the seat. "V?" Vince opened his left eye to look up at Henry and wordlessly acknowledged him before closing it again. "We're gonna get you some help buddy, you've just gotta hang on for about ten minutes. You think you can make it?" He asked, ripping apart a dirty shirt he found on the seat and lifting up Vince's hand to press it on his stomach. He placed his hand back over the rag, searching eyes scoping for anything that would hold it down but coming up empty. "Vince?"

"Mmm," Vince grunted, to what Henry wasn't exactly sure but he decided to stop asking him questions. He turned back to the road, noticing the blood that was already on his hands. He opened the window and lit a cigarette with shaking hands. Luther had remained quiet and Henry was quite frankly thankful. He was trying to deal with his own problems without having to deal with anyone else's worrying.

"That's our exit!" Henry exclaimed, swinging the wheel to the right and earning them several irate beeps from their fellow road users. Luther remained silent, pushing his sunglasses back up his nose with his middle finger and gripping the steering wheel a little harder.

"This doesn't lead to a hospital, does it?" Luther asked, in a hushed tone.

"It's as good as. This is something Jack can handle." Henry muttered through a billow of smoke. Luther nodded once, speeding up now that he knew where he was heading. He looked in the rear view mirror at Vince on the back seat and hoped that they would make it in time.

…

Leon sauntered down the hospital corridor, car magazine under one arm and two bottles of water in the other. As he approached Vince's hospital room, he noticed the two cops beside the door talking to a doctor and two nurses. Leon stopped dead in his tracks, mouth slightly agape.

Shit, they got him. I should've been here. Fuck!

He stared hard at the gathering of people by the hospital room, trying to catch any part of their conversation but they were too far away. How could he not have thought about this? The cops were after them, why had he not thought they would find out where Vince was? It was only a matter of time and here they were.

One of the nurses looked in his direction and caught his eye. And then the familiar spark of recognition kicked in and she opened her mouth to speak. When she looked back, Leon was gone.

In the elevator, he punched ground floor hard until the doors closed. As he began the slow journey down, he hopped from left to right unconsciously. As the elevator doors 'pinged' open, he marched straight towards the exit, not letting anything get in his way. He knew if he didn't get out of there fast, they'd be onto him and he'd be royally screwed. But that didn't help knowing that Vince already was.

He broke into a run as he reached the parking lot, after discarding the water and magazine in a trash can. I gotta find Letty. I gotta figure out what the hell we're gonna do about this. Oh shit.

He sprinted as fast as he could, heart pounding in his head and breathing becoming laboured. But he carried on going. He had to figure out what they were going to do now. He had no idea how he was going to handle it, let alone Letty.

Leon burst through the front door, finding the apartment empty. He dropped the keys on the phone table and strode quickly to the bedroom…Empty.

"Letty?" He called, his voice echoing throughout the small home. "Yo Let?" He knocked on the bathroom door and opened it without waiting for an answer. "Letty!"

He dropped to his knees before her. She was lying on the floor, still in a vest and boy shorts. Unconscious.

He pressed two fingers against the pulse on her neck. It was faint but it was still there. She was pale and her usually olive skin was slick with a cold sweat.

He slid his arms underneath her, lifting her limp body up with minimal effort. She whimpered against him and he hushed her soothingly. "Its okay baby, everything's okay." He carried her to the bedroom. He had no other option. He couldn't take her to a hospital, not now. They were looking for them and after that nurse caught sight of him they would probably be on even more of a lookout. They had got to Vince. It was only a matter of time before him and Letty was found too.

He gently placed her on Vince's bed and she murmured slightly. He hurried back to the bathroom to get a cold flannel, tripping over one of Vince's many guitars in the process. On the panel of the sink there was what looked like, a pregnancy test.

…

"He's in a lot of pain but I think he'll be okay. For now anyway," Jack said, looking into Henry's eyes and then back at Vince. The middle-aged man had blood splattered on his white shirt. His black tie was tucked between openings of buttons, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

"Thanks J man, I didn't know where else to go ya know?"

"I understand Henry," he nodded, narrowing his eyes. "You got somewhere to take him?"

"Yeah, we're gonna head back to Luther's place in Frisco for now. Lay low for a while and get Vince better," Henry explained to the older man. Jack patted him on the back and led him to the back yard, where Luther was asleep on a sun bed.

"What happened?" Jack asked, as they sat opposite each other. His salt and pepper hair was neatly cut, obviously from his military days. His wife approached them, carrying a tray containing three bottles of beer. She smiled politely at Henry, placing the tray down on the mini table between them and turning to her husband. He kissed her cheek lightly, smiling at her as she headed back up to the house.

"It's a long story." Henry sighed, copying Jack by taking one of the beer bottles. "I'm not even sure of the details myself."

"Are you sure you're going to be able to handle him? He's got extensive damage and may take months to recover fully. It's clear this isn't a fresh wound, it was one that had been re-opened."

"We had to get him outta the hospital." Jack nodded slowly, taking a swig from his beer bottle. He was a professional man, but also a friend to Henry. He knew not to ask too many questions, despite his own contacts and power, the Hellions wouldn't give a seconds thought about wiping him out. He had helped out many a gun shot wound to know not to mess with bikers.

Henry shook Luther, waking him up. "Thanks for helping Jack, I owe you big time."

"Anytime son," he replied, proffering his hand and shaking Henry's firmly. "Anytime."

…

Vince opened his eyes. New surroundings again. This had to stop. He was getting confused. He was alone this time; well nobody was in the room with him. He couldn't see anyone, but he couldn't sense anyone either. He turned his head to get a full view of the darkened room. Nothing interesting though. Then he heard the slightly muffled argument of hushed voices outside the room.

"…I don't even know this guy yet he's staying in my house, with a near fatal gunshot wound and I'm the one who's butting in?"

"He's Henry's brother Jules, we couldn't just leave him to die. The cops were looking for him and I don't know why but he's Henry's responsibility which means he's my responsibility too."

"Alright, alright…I get it. It's just you bring this to my doorstep too too often and it's just getting a bit much."

"I'm sorry, truly, but we had nowhere else to go. We just need a couple of days to figure out what we're gonna do and then we'll be outta here. I promise you."

A sigh. "Okay. But you pay for what you eat and drink. And you can fix my bike while you're here."

"Deal."

Vince heard one of the two walk away and then someone opened the door to his room, peeking in at him. Vince closed his eyes, pretending to be still asleep. After a moment, whoever it had been closed the door again and walked away. Vince let out the breath he had been holding, and opened his eyes once more. He didn't even know how he had gotten where he was; just that he was in pain. A whole lot of pain.

He scanned the room again, trying to sit himself up and wincing from the horrible aching that pulsated through his arm and side. He swallowed thickly, trying to ease back the sting of tears and hold himself back from screaming. For some strange reason, he didn't want anyone to know that he was awake. He didn't want to face anyone, let anyone see his pain.

They'd spoon-feed him bull crap about how it was only understandable that he was in pain but that only made it worse. It was strange how that worked, when people try to reassure you it only makes you feel worse about yourself and the situation. Vince just felt like telling everyone to shove their sympathy where the sun didn't shine but then he knew that would upset them and he would later regret it. So, there he lay – alone, in pain and helpless.