Myra watched the fly buzz above her head. He had made his rounds a few times today, leaving her for an hour when Mr. T came home to make himself lunch in the kitchen. It came back when he brought her a sandwich and a coke, leaving her to eat as he headed back to the garage.

She glanced over at the clock perched on the wall just by the front door. Mia would be home in a few minutes. Myra looked down at her hoodie and shorts, debating getting up and showering. Her head had started to itch from lack of washing and sweat two days ago, but it wasn't pressing. She sighed, sitting up and crossing her legs under her body. The sun was out, the world was buzzing at a stagnant 98 degrees and she was sweating through layers as she laid on the couch.

She had gotten back from the hospital two days ago. Her mother had driven her home like promised, but Myra didn't go into her mother's house. Dom had been waiting up for her, the porch light replaced and bright. The door had been left open and he sat there and watched a few movies until 2 in the morning with her. And then he went upstairs to sleep.

Except for bathroom breaks she hadn't moved since.

The fly landed on her hand which sat perfectly still on her bare knee. She examined it, watching as the creature cleaned its face before flying off again. It seemed so easy; just get up. Go to the bathroom. Take your clothes off, and shower.

She frowned, looking over at the TV that sat quietly against the wall. The half-eaten ham sandwich stared up at her, begging to be consumed, but she couldn't muster it. Her stomach still felt oddly full ever since...

She blinked away the tears, pulling her knees up to her chest.

She wouldn't think about it.

The front door opened slowly and Mia creeped in, looking for Myra to be awake. When she saw the girl sitting up she let out a sigh and smiled, closing the door behind her swiftly.

"Oh my god, this day..." Mia rolled her eyes and dropped her book bag onto the couch beside Myra. "Do you think you could help me with Math?"

"Of course."

"Ok, let me get a snack." Mia scooped up the half eaten sandwich and headed into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with an apple and a jar of peanut butter. She handed Myra a spoon and busied herself with emptying the contents of her book bag onto the coffee table. When she sank down next to Myra on the couch Myra pulled away from the contact, putting a little space between them. If Mia noticed she didn't say anything, suddenly very careful about the way she sat.

When the door opened again four hours later Myra was explaining World War II to Mia, a spoon of peanut butter in her hand, ready to enter her mouth. Dom spoke his greetings before heading upstairs, Mr. T right behind him. Mia realized the time quickly and picked up her stuff, heading into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

They usually ate dinner at the kitchen table, but the last two nights the Toretto's had sat down in the living room, a no food zone, and ate their dinner while watching TV with Myra.

Vince took Mia's seat, sinking down into the couch beside Myra. He carefully reached out and swept the hair from behind her neck. She cringed slightly at the contact, closing her eyes quickly. Vince didn't back down though, his fingers sliding down her arm to take her hand in his.

"Baby, you need a shower." His voice was exhausted. She looked over at him, watching as his stare steadied on her carefully. She wanted to tell him no, she wanted to curl up and sleep and forget. Her mother's words were running through her mind and she found herself holding back tears. "Come on, I'll help."

Myra nodded and Vince carefully lifted her up off the couch with ease. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his chest, closing her eyes. He carried her to the bathroom, sitting her down on the sink counter. Closing the door behind him he locked it, turning around to face her. She watched as he stripped, lifting his shirt up, dropping it in a pile, his belt, shoes, pants, and boxers joining shortly thereafter.

"Raise your arms."

She obeyed and Vince stripped her of her hoodie. Her tank top was next and he kept his eyes steady on her face as she sat in front of him shirtless. She didn't need to look down to know there were bruises in-between her breasts, turning black and purple, yellow and vile. Vince pulled at the elastic in her shorts and she picked herself up, squinting at the pain in her thighs as they slid down and joined his clothes on the floor. She was naked in front of him, her body shaking.

She closed her eyes, tears building. He turned on the water, testing the stream and adjusting the temperature. When it was right he turned back to her and Myra slid herself off the counter, taking a step towards him.

His smile was so soft, so understanding. He took her hand and with guidance she stepped into the shower, Vince behind her, the curtain pulled. The water poured down on her and the steam billowed all around. They stood still for a few minutes before Vince went to work with the loofa and soap, washing her from head to toe, being gentle on her bruises. He worked shampoo into her hair and washed it out. When she cried he held her, cradling her body in his arms as she sobbed.

When they were done he gave her a towel before wrapping one around his waist.

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna get you a change of clothes."

She only nodded, hugging the towel close to her body as Vince left. Just a minute later he was coming back in with shorts and a t-shirt, both his. She slipped them on with help and Vince quickly changed his own clothes before rolling up the towels and dirty clothes. They headed back out into the hall and Myra followed him to the laundry where he discarded the ball.

"You hungry?" He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, watching as she nibbled on her lower lip and shook her head. He sighed but didn't push. After a few minutes of silence, he guided her back to the couch, asking her to stand for a minute as he gathered up the blankets and pillows she had been using. He headed into the basement and returned promptly with his comforter and his pillows, building a pile on the couch for her.

She sank into the pillows, pulling the blanket up to her nose and inhaling the smell of Vince. She let it swirl around in her head as the people who lived here moved around her. Mia was chatting with her dad about her day, Dom adding his little comments here and there. The coffee table was pushed out and the Toretto kids sank onto the floor in front of Myra, dinner on the table. Mr. T sank into the chair and Vince plopped down next to her, the TV on, some program about racing filling in the small voids of silence between conversation.

Myra whipped the tears from her eyes and let out a sigh, smiling softly to herself as she held tightly to one of the pillows Vince had given her.

"When I got this car from my pops it was Burnt Orange. In the 70's they used to paint everything they drove these bright spastic colors." Mr. T chuckled, walking around the driver's side of the vehicle and dropping down to lean into the open car window. "They invented a whole new line of colors that year alone because of this car."

Myra slid her hands over the steering wheel, lightly gracing the leather grip steering wheel cover that he had put on for better control. The engine was off, the garage doors open wide in front of them, driveway empty. It was a beautiful end of summer Sunday afternoon.

"You wanna take it for a spin?"

"As if." She snorted, leaning back in the seat and dropping her hands from the wheel. She was swallowed up in the vehicle. Her size didn't help much with anything, and she had vowed that she would start eating more. The past two weeks had gone by in a haze, and when she found Mr. T outside working on his beast in the garage she didn't miss the surprise on his face when she came out in shorts and a t-shirt.

"One day." He reached in and planted a very soft playful punch on her arm. "Come on." He opened the door for her and she climbed out. They both watched as Dom pulled up the in driveway, Jesse, Leon, and Vince in the vehicle with him. They had left to get the groceries for the BBQ. Myra followed Mr. T and helped gather bags, carrying them inside, ignoring the eyes on the back of her head.

"I want to take self-defense classes." Myra stretched out on the couch, wiggling down closer to Vince, who was sitting at the end, cradling her legs in his lap. He had started staying with her upstairs, sleeping on the couch, holding her until she passed out. He never once asked why she didn't want to be in the bed; and she was grateful.

"Excuse me?"

"I want to learn to defend myself." He just grunted in return, changing the channel on the TV. She sighed, watching his eyes droop. He had had a rough day. The garage had been over stuffed, and the paperwork was getting increasingly more in disarray. They didn't demand her return, quite the contrary, but she knew she would have to build the strength up to go outside soon.

"Vince?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go to bed."

She rose up, watching as he looked from the TV to her with confusion. Three weeks now. She had been sleeping on the couch for three weeks. With a little wobble in her step, she stood up and walked around, turning off the TV. Reaching out with her hand, she offered him her palm, watching as he carefully slid his own hand into hers. With a quiet so profound they made their way downstairs, Myra shaking in the cold. Vince wrapped her up in his arms though and the last few steps she was carried, the mattress meeting her back as he laid her down.

"Thank you." It was a murmur on her lips as she curled up in his arms, and she was sure that he had heard it. With a soft kiss to her forehead he himself dozed off.