Brian got in his car and was about to drive off, when he tried and failed to engage a gear. His right arm seemed to be on fire, so he changed tactics. He thought he could manage to steer with his right hand and if he twisted a bit – an idea his ribs definitely resented, but he did it anyway – he could shift gears with his left. It worked, although Brian prayed that he wouldn't be seen by a police patrol. That seemed to become a habit as of late. He was thinking about stopping by a diner and the pharmacy for food and stronger painkillers, as he picked up the parts – or rather, informed his boss's friend where to put them, since he couldn't lift anything heavy which was really embarrassing – and got on his way again.

He then noticed that even steering was increasingly difficult for his right hand which was trembling fiercely by now. He could also feel blood oozing through the pads and bandage. As if that wasn´t enough, his vision kept greying. He tried to convince himself that he would feel better once he'd eaten something and decided to take a shortcut to get to the diner, although that would bring him near Dom´s garage. At this point though, he was too exhausted and starved to care much. He found his concentration drifting off and took a wrong turn and when he tried to remember which way he needed to go, he wasn´t sure anymore. He pulled up at the side of the road and tried to focus. His gaze drifted off and found a familiar sight a couple of houses down the street. Dom's garage.

Fuck, he thought, that must have been more than one wrong turn there.

He felt a slight uneasiness creep up his spine. He shouldn't be here. He didn't want to be here.

With that thought in mind, Brian tried to start his car, but his right hand wasn´t even able to turn the fucking key, so he reached over with his left.

Just as he did so, the door to his car was opened, making him jump. The next second, a hand roughly grabbed his collar and hauled him out. Brian cursed himself for having considered it too much of an effort to fasten his seatbelt before. He instinctively threw up a fist which made contact with someone's jaw and the grip on his sweater loosened momentarily. It was all he needed to break free and turn around – only to see Vince's fist flying towards him, hitting his nose. The impact – and possibly the sight of Vince's face twisted with rage – had him stumble backwards on the street, blood gushing down over his mouth.

"What the fuck are you doing here, you fucking pig?!" Vince was screaming furiously.

Brian found his footing again and felt his adrenaline kicking in. He knew that right now he was in no shape to keep up in a fight with Vince. He couldn´t use his right arm and he already felt dizzy. He had to get back into his car and get out of here as quickly as possible.

He dodged Vince as he came stomping towards him, looking like a bull on a rampage, and tried to move past him, but with his ribs screaming in protest he wasn't fast enough. Vince caught him by the hood of his sweater and yanked him backwards and Brian lost his balance and fell to the ground, luckily not hitting his head again. Not that his ribcage was any fonder of the impact. By now though, the other man was already pinning him down and he concentrated on that.

Brian tried to get a hold of one of his legs, so as to be able to throw him off, but Vince had grabbed his left wrist with one hand and his forearm with the other and twisted it viciously so that Brian had to lift his shoulder off the ground to avoid having it dislocated. Vince was using the leverage he had on his arm to flip him over and with his other arm being useless, Brian had to comply. Now he was lying face-down on the road with his weight on his right arm, which was hurting like hell, and his other arm twisted behind his back, panting from the fight.

Vince got up and, having one hand on Brian's wrist and the other on the hood of his sweater, pulled him up, too. Whoa, that fast switch from horizontal to vertical had him feeling like he might black out. And he was getting sick again, too, he noticed.

"If you try anything, I swear I'll break your arm and beat you to a pulp, O'Conner," Vince growled as he pushed him towards the garage.

This was definitely the last place on earth Brian wanted to go – except for Dom's house, maybe. He made a half-hearted attempt to break free, but Vince just had to yank on his wrist again to send a sharp pain through his shoulder and elbow and keep Brian from doing anything else, other than moving forward. Well, frankly, he didn't feel like walking on his own would be a good idea, anyway.

As they neared the garage, Brian started feeling something close to fear. Dom was probably the only man he'd ever really been afraid of.

Vince shoved him through the door and when Brian cast a quick glance around, he had to admit that he'd missed this place. Then his eyes fell on Dom who was bent over the engine of one of the cars and he swallowed thickly.

"Look who I found outside, sitting in his car and watching us," Vince spoke up, his voice still trembling with rage. At this, Dom straightened up and turned around. Their gazes locked and Brian could see different emotions crossing his face in a matter of seconds. There was confusion, curiosity and most certainly anger.

Dom slowly came towards them and it took all Brian had not to flinch when he stopped close to his face. Out of the corner of his eyes, Brian noticed that the rest of the team was also present and they all came over, staring in disbelief at the sight of him. A very sorry sight, he was pretty sure about that, as he felt the blood from his nose drip from his chin and onto the floor.

"What are you doing here, O'Conner?" Dom's voice was quiet and his stare so intense Brian wished he could just turn on his heels and run.

"I bet he's been spying on us, he's a fucking cop," Vince snarled.

Dom's gaze never left Brian's as he asked, "Is that right? Is that why you're here?"

Brian had to think of something and quickly, he knew. The truth, that his concussion had made him disoriented, was not an option, he decided. He wouldn't show them any vulnerability. So instead, he simply stated in as calm a voice as possible, "No, I haven't been spying on you. I quit working for the force some time ago."

"Is that what you call it when your bosses kick your ass out?" Dom replied and Brian thought he almost saw amusement in his eyes.

"How did you know?" was all he managed to say, as the dizziness got worse again with his adrenaline leaving him. Just focus on staying upright.

"I'm not stupid, O'Conner. You let me go and I know you made all the evidence disappear. LAPD doesn't forgive such things. Now, if you weren't watching us, what did you do out there?"

Dom wasn't going to let the matter go, Brian felt sure of that. Although he was wondering when he'd start hitting him, because that would be inevitable, Brian knew. "I just wanted to check on you, okay? See if you're alright. I was actually going to leave when Vince spotted me."

Dom looked at him thoughtfully for a second then motioned to Vince. "Release him."

Vince was about to protest, but one look from Dom was enough for him to let go of Brian.

Brian rotated his shoulder and wrist and moved his tingling fingers as he looked at Dom again. But it seemed as if Dom was waiting for Brian to say something which really got him frustrated. He was so tensed up in anticipation of the first blow and it just wouldn't come. "What? What do you want me to tell you, Dom? I'm really sorry about all I've done to you and I understand that you're mad at me and I know where this is going…"

He stopped when he saw Dom's eyebrows furrowing. "I'm not planning on beating you up or anything, O'Conner, if that's what you're hinting at. I guess Vince took care of that well enough already. And yeah, I was really pissed when you blew your cover, but I know that you saved all of us from being arrested and sent to jail and you've lost your job for that. So, I guess we're even, more or less."

It took some time for Brian to register what Dom had just said. He wasn't going to do anything to him and that was a relief. He started breathing a fraction easier.

"Okay," Brian mumbled as he noticed that the ground he was standing on had started swaying as if he was on a ship. He must get out of here. He knew he couldn't lie to Dom, if he questioned him about his injuries, not without him noticing it. And he really didn't want to lie to Dom anymore, but he just couldn't tell him what had happened. He had to protect him and the family. Especially now that he knew they'd forgiven him. He felt blood trickle down the back of his right hand, then. The bandage must be completely soaked and if just one of them noticed, he was screwed. Brian turned to leave, determined to make it to his car, before he collapsed in front of them.

"Hey, where're you going, now?"

Of course, it couldn't be that easy. Damn. Looking at Dom in fake surprise and keeping his voice casual, Brian answered slowly, "Well, seems as if everything's set between us, so I guess I'll be on my way."

"You're not leaving yet, O'Conner." The way Dom said it, Brian knew it was an order and he almost groaned.

Turning to the door determinedly, Brian answered, "Look, I've got to be somewhere, okay, so…"

He drew in a sharp breath and involuntarily let out a groan, as Dom stepped forward and took a hold of his right forearm. He tensed and his left hand curled into a fist, his nails biting into his palm. Shit, that hurt enough to have him seeing stars for a few seconds. His knees wobbled and there was no way he could cover up his violent reaction, he knew that when he saw the questioning look on Dom's face, his brows slightly furrowed yet again. He'd let go of him as fast as if he'd been burned.