=A Few Days Later, Jackson Heights Mansions=

Sometimes, it was hard being the most successful man in Bayview. The weight of success was often so heavy, it was more like a burden than a blessing. People always asking you for a grand or two that they maybe or maybe not will pay you back for. Well, at least, when you made as much as Booke Teems, a grand or two was paperweight. And he'd let you know this very fact as he threw money in your face to get you to be quiet in his presence.

Like a king, he carried himself, and made sure his "Kingdom" stayed profitable. Just call him "Booke." And all he cared about was himself and the money that poured into his pocket. Dressed comfortable in a silk robe and house slippers, Booke lounged in his beach chair on the patio of his Jackson Heights mansion, taking in the breathtaking view of the sun setting over Bayview.

"Knock, knock," Booke heard someone greet from behind.

He immediately recognized the foreign accent and turned around with a smile on his face. "Karol! Always a sight for sore eyes. How you been, partner?"

Karol, a Russian middle aged man, took a seat on one of the lawn chairs across from Booke. He grunted and fished two cigars out of his pocket. He handed one to Booke, and let the other hang in between his lips before he lit it.

"Very well, my friend, very well. You'll be pleased to know that business is, well..., steady. Everyone is on time with payments. No slouches from any sides."

Booke took a puff from the cigar and grinned. "Music to my ears, baby. Now, I appreciate you stoppin' by, but you know how I do. Got some fine honeys lined up for a pool date, and you know I ain't 'finna be late for that."

Karol chuckled along, "Nooo, we wouldn't want that, now would we? However, there is a matter that I'd like to bring to your attention."

Booke paused and licked his lips. "Everything straight?"

"You are familiar with a woman named, Rachel Teller? Yes?"

Booke looked up to the sky in thought, trying to remember exactly who she was. "Rachel Teller…" he snapped his fingers, picturing her in his mind from memory. "Yeah. Yeah, that's right! Ol' girl from back in the day, we used to hustle the same block comin' up! The one broad in this whole city that think she too good to get dicked down by me. Yeaaah, I know her. I can spot that fine ass from a mile away. Bitch has a body like she from Playboy or some shit."

"Well then, you're gonna love the news. It appears she has started an enterprise of her own. A team of street racers. My sources tell me she funds the entire crew with her own money, and she has six drivers on her roster so far. She has directly been quoted saying that she plans to take over Bayview with this single crew of hers." Karol got a laugh out of the details he was sharing, and massaged his chin in thought.

"Seems like everyday there's some rat crawlin' out the sewers to get a piece of my cake. What'chu tellin' me this for, Karol? She's good, but ain't nothin' to be pressed about."

Karol nodded his head and pointed to a laptop that he brought in. "The numbers would like to have a word with you, my friend." Karol handed the laptop to Booke so that he could see the spreadsheet for himself. He stared at the screen for a moment, then a look of shock took over any doubts.

"The hell is this?! Why am I lookin' at red numbers? What happened to our revenue from the 5th?"

"That was the date of an event hosted by the Vixens and Team Underground in Coal Harbor. 'Team Underground,' is the name given to Rachel's crew."

Booke turned away from the computer and scoffed. "That many people showed up to that race?! Goddamn! Who the hell did they have there, the Backstreet Boys or some shit?!"

Karol took a puff of his cigar and shook his head. "No, my friend, it would seem the biggest gimmick of Team Underground is the roster. They are made up of many notorious street racers from all over the country, you see. They have little reputation to build because each driver already has a sizable fan base. The most notable member being Brian O'Conner from Miami, who is known for his superhuman driving ability. My guess is that the loss of revenue that night is for people placing bets at this race, instead of any ones hosted by our own."

For a few minutes, Karol stayed quiet and let Booke think about the situation. Booke seemed like just an average goofy millionaire, but his strategies were always cunning, ruthless, and sharp. He was at the top of Bayview's street racing scene for a reason. Booke put the cigar out, stood up, and walked towards the door leading back into his mansion.

"Alright, alright. Here's what we gonna do. Keep an eye on em', Karol. Let T.K. know to watch his back for that crew. I don't want him to lose the grip that the Urban Maulers have on Coal Harbor. No slippin', you feel me? If Rachel and her goons keep cuttin' into my dessert, we might just have a little situation on our hands."

=Evening, Six-One-Nine Customs=

Six-One-Nine Customs had become a de facto home away from home for Team Underground. Over the course of a month, they'd moved half of their equipment out of Rachel's garage, and split it down the middle. That way, they now boasted two garages for operation in different parts of the city. They were making a fair bit of progress as a crew, and it showed through the uptick in profits. Always one to congratulate those under her, Rachel made it a point one night to showcase the team's victory. She pulled up to Oscar's garage, in her 350Z of course, and found most of her team already present.

The loud, playful EDM music blasting from Kenji's backseats, and the boisterous laughs coming from Suki already made her feel warm and welcomed. Sure enough, everyone inside paused what appeared to be a miniature party. They seemed to be trying to tune their cars together but were too distracted by either another one of Rome's jokes, or Angie threatening to noogie one of them on the head for whatever reason.

"Yooo, there she is!" Shouted Suki, turning around with an airbrush in her hand.

Before Rachel could even expect it, she found a can of beer being tossed toward her, courtesy of Roman. Thankfully she caught it, lest it spill all over Oscar's floor. "No thanks," She said, tossing it back. "Too many calories. I'm on a diet."

"When are you NOT on a diet?" Angie teased on her way over, stepping over Kenji's legs dangling from underneath his car. "God, woman, learn how to live a little."

Rachel rolled her eyes, and then used them to scan for the rest of her team. "Where's Brian and Wolf?"

Oscar replied to her without turning his head from the portable stove he was using to grill burgers. "'Que pasa, mama! Brian's in the back and Wolf is, …ah, eh…-" His answered lingered as he turned around to look for the missing man to no avail.

"-Wolf's probably too busy hand pickin' every last pebble out the grooves of his tires." Teased Rome.

Kenji chuckled and rolled out from under his car. "Right. Either that or he's out putting those serial killer gloves to use and burying a body."

"For real, right?! I mean, why the hell does he wear those and that damn trench coat all the time," Suki joined in, with her nose scrunched up. "Somebody needs to tell him we ain't in the Sixties no more."

"Alright, alright," Rachel interrupted. "I'm glad you're havin' your fun, but I wanted to stop by and give a special thanks to Ozzie here."

Rachel whipped out an envelope of cash and beckoned Oscar over. He wiped the burger grease off his hands and came over. In her hand was a personal thanks from Rachel, worth a few thousand dollars. "Felt the need to show 'some appreciation, y'know? You've been doin' me a huge solid by hooking my team up."

Oscar took the envelope, but not without offering a hug to Rachel. "Ahhh, it's all good! I should be thanking you. Got sales through the roof now that vatos know you got my mods under your hoods. Check it out," he hollered, pointing towards his front door, "Here's a perfect example right here."

"Hm? More customers?" Asked Kenji, following the direction of Oscar's pointed finger.

Sure enough, a couple walked through the door.

Not just any couple, unfortunately for them.

It was fortunate, however, that they didn't recognize the trademark bald head and muscle shirt of Dominic Toretto. Not to mention Letty's S14 sitting pretty in Oscar's parking lot outside. Rachel had heard of them in the past few days, but was too preoccupied with her own business to put faces to the names of Dom's crew, "Los Bandoleros."

Team Underground watched as the couple strutted up to the front counter with attitude. Dom and Letty's gritty personality was made apparent by their stride and the constant pissed off looks on their faces. Maybe they weren't actually pissed off. Though, perhaps they were just bored from winning races so effortlessly.

With her hands in her back pockets, Letty flicked her head up at the rival group of racers. "What's up, guys? This is Six-One-Nine, right?"

Neither of the opposing racing factions had properly met each other. Dom's crew, of course, knew about Team Underground but had yet to meet them, let alone recognize any of its members.

Oscar put his cash in back pocket and nodded. "That's right. One of my boys sent ya? What'cha need?"

Letty snapped her fingers and pointed to a back wall that showcased Oscar's nitrous options. "Nothin' special. Just need a fat tank of spray ASAP."

Oscar chuckled as he started making his way over to the wall. "That it? Heh, you're insulin' me here, homes! Most cats don't leave out here without spendin' a few racks."

Dom, who had been quiet up to this point, finally spoke. "Nothing personal," he said, giving an approving nod. "Me and my team? We're used to holding our own when it comes to parts. We might open a garage out here ourselves."

"Team? If I had to guess, you two are with the Bandoleros? Am I right?" Asked Rachel.

"Nope. Not 'with,'" Letty corrected, "You're lookin' at the two who run the show. You can call me 'Letty.' Nice to meet you."

Dom nodded, his arms crossed, but didn't bother to give his name.

For a brief second, it was awkward silence from the two teams as Oscar flipped through his inventory binder. They were too busy quietly sizing each other up. Too many competitive attitudes in one place was never much of a good thing.

There was Kenji lowering his volume by the second, looking over his shoulder with a curious glare. Over in the corner, there was Angie leaned across her car's hood, with tobacco smoke dancing between her fingertips as she stared at them.

Letty eyeballed the "Team Underground" decal placed on the bottom right of Kenji's rear window. "Team Underground, huh? We've heard of you guys. Once or twice."

Thankfully, Oscar's question broke up the uneasy tension. "All I got is VENOM and Nitrous Xpress. NOS is a crazy hot seller right now, y'see."

"We'll take Nitrous Xpress," nodded Dom.

Letty arched an eyebrow. "Huh? You sure, babe? VENOM is cheaper, and it's not like we need a lot of it tonight."

Dom let down his guard a little and chuckled at Letty. "Wouldn't need any juice at all if you weren't letting Twinkie run with you."

"Yeaaah, that's fair game I guess."

For a moment, the banter between the couple eased the tension until his name was mentioned.

"Yo, Brian! Grab me a bottle of Xpress back there for me, ese!"

"Brian."

That name made Dom and Letty almost freeze stiff. It didn't help that they swore they saw him at the race the other night. Even after all this time, Brian O'Conner never failed to dig up old emotions that they'd like to keep buried. Then came the voice of the reply echoing from somewhere in the back of the garage.

"I got you, Ozzie!"

It'd been years since they heard that voice, but they still recognized it as if it were yesterday.

Then came the long curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and bright white smile emerging from the backroom. Brian set the tank of nitrous on the counter and gave a single pat to Oscar's back.

"Here you go, Ozzie. Lemme know if you need anything else, bro, I'll be in the back wrapping things up."

Brian turned back around to get back to his business, but not before doing a double take toward the front counter.

Time stood still.

One set of eyes met the other.

No one dared to move a muscle.

This was fate, striking through whatever plans both sides had made, and rendering every last effort all useless.

Here they were - Brian O'Conner and Dominic Toretto, breathing the same air after what felt like eons of regret from their past decisions.

Here they were - at the mercy of one another, awaiting judgement.

"Shit…, it really is him..." Letty murmured out, unable to believe her eyes. She could feel the heat radiating off of Dom's biceps, tensing more and more with every second that he looked into Brian's eyes.

Rome stood up from off the sofa and finally addressed the tension. "Say, man? We got a problem?"

Just as quick, Suki was right behind him, saying, "Yo, what the hell is goin' on here?"

"You two know each other?" Rachel finally asked, trading glances to both sides of the party. She felt lost as all hell, and was desperate for any clarification.

Finally, booming through the tension came Dom's voice, as dark and empty from the depths of his heart that broke all over again to see Brian in the flesh - A man that he told some of his darkest secrets to. "No. We don't know each other."

Dom clenched his jaw and held onto the longing gaze in Brian's eyes, before turning around and motioning to Letty with a head tilt.

"Dom."

Dom kept walking, hoping to drown out the pleading calls of the Buster with the thumps of his boots.

"Dom!"

Brian's Converse shrieked as he rounded the front counter.

"Dominic! Leticia!"

It was a desperate plea to use both of their full first names in such a hasty manner. But Brian was on his proverbial hands and knees, hat in hand for one last chance to be the brother they thought he once was.

As Brian paced toward the couple, the rest of his team followed right on his heels, desperate for any tidbits/crumbles to what in the world was going on.

At the call of her first name, Letty turned around and the look in her eyes was enough to kill. "What did you just say?"

"Just hear me out for one goddamn second!"

"Letty, keep moving!" Hollered Dom.

Enough was enough.

Brian lunged forward and grabbed a handful of Dom's shoulder.

That's when everything went to shit...*

The darkness slowly crept its way out of Brian's vision.

He felt himself on the floor. He looked up and saw the back of someone's legs standing over him. It was Rome. He could hear Rome yelling, no, more like feel him yelling with the way his voice reverberated through the ground. Rome was pissed. And from the looks of it, everyone else was too. But, why?

Past Rome, to the left, was Angie shouting something incomprehensible, definitively expletives, as she waved around a steel pipe. Then there was Oscar coming from the back of the garage with a damn sawed-off shotgun.

What the hell? What was going on-

Oh.

Right...

It all came back to Brian. The moment that he often dreamed about. The hope of one day having a chance to explain to the people he put his life on the line for. He just wasn't expecting a right-cross from Dom so suddenly. Brian followed a trail of blood that sprinkled his shirt, all the way down to the lip of his jeans. One hand swiped over his face. He retreated it to see his fingers doused in red.

Dammit… Dom hadn't held back an inch.

To his left, he winced when he heard shouting in his ear, that sounded both too muffled and too high pitched for his eardrum's liking. It was Rachel, squatted next to him, with worried hands reaching out to assess his injuries. Finally, when Brian's senses came to, he looked at the entrance to the garage to see Dom and Letty - the look on Dom's face as Letty had to fight tooth and nail to prevent her boyfriend from stomping over to finish the job.

As odd as it may sound, something about it was relieving for Brian. He could tell that it was a right-cross that Dom had been saving for a long time. Now that they got the hard talk out of the way, maybe there was a chance to sit down and hash it out with words instead of fists. Brian chuckled, closed his eyes, and leaned back, breathing through his mouth.

Yeah, maybe that was wishful thinking.*

Rachel looked out into the misty distance, waiting for the exhaust notes of the S14 to fully dissipate into the night. Once she was satisfied, Rachel spun on her heels and stormed back into the garage interior.

All the debris on the floor.

The splotches of blood from Brian's nose.

She followed the trail up to the stool he sat on, where he was promptly tended to by Roman and Suki. Her eyes swept over Brian like a nurse. Already, his left eye seemed to be twitching closed more by the second. But he still seemed fine enough to get yelled at.

Rachel stormed up to the stool with her arms crossed. "Are you gonna tell me what the hell that was all about?!"

"Long story…"

"Then we better make time." She said, eyeballing everyone else. "'Cause we need to hear this."/

*Flashback*

=Year 2003=

=Toretto's Garage, Los Angeles=

If his heart could beat any faster, Brian was sure it'd collapse on itself, leaving his body to be limp on the Toretto's front porch. It was here that he found himself suspended in animation, motionless, and captive to his anxiety. A pair of knuckles hung in the air, just above the door that he was sure his ex-lover was behind.

Then came the knock…

Followed by the door opening…

And at last, the mutual empty breaths of surprise that was shared between Brian and the woman that changed his life…

Mia Toretto.*

Two cups of coffee separated Brian and Mia, one across from the other, on opposite sides of the table. The brew had long since dissipated its heat, instead, drew the cold that seeped from the two adults/borderline strangers again.

Cold glances. Cold coffee. Cold feet.

A winter storm pounded their hearts to a stand still. Never one to sit still, Brian shot up and began pacing around the room. He took in the pictures displayed in the nooks of the living room he vaguely remembered; a lazy index occasionally graced the frames. There was a photo of Jesse cradled in a frame with a pair of prayer hands attached to it.

Brian swallowed a lump in his throat, and blinked away the regret that swelled up. "Jesse, he… y'know, he always had that smile that could just light up the whole room."

This was Brian's first words in the Toretto house since the day he tore it apart. He said this while his head hung down, oogling the wooden floors so that he didn't have to look Mia in the eye.

"I used to say the same thing about you." Mia's turn. Though, her words were laced with poison, anger, and disappointment.

Brian held onto those words of hers for a few seconds. It was mostly her voice that he savored, even though her tone was anything but welcoming.

"So, how've you been, Mia?" Brian kept his head turned away.

Mia cut through the bullshit. "Brian… you can't do this. You cannot just come back after three years and talk to me like nothing happened."

Brian shoved his hands in his pockets, and finally picked his head up to look at her. "I'm sorry."

There was sadness in his voice, but his face looked as blank as ever. Like he wasn't sure what to feel. It drove Mia crazy, because what was he doing here in her home if he didn't have his shit together? At least something to tell her after so long. But all he had was, "I'm sorry?" Mia put an ear forward, expecting more, and nearly fumed when nothing came. Brian just stood there like a bump on a log. If only she could bear witness to the storm of emotions raging through him. Mia threw up her arm, only to let her hand slap her thigh as she stood up.

"Okay. This isn't going anywhere."

"Mia…-"

"Brian, I imagined so many ways how this day would play out. The day you show back up…" Mia spat out that last sentence with such a bite to her words, it was as if she saw Brian as a curse that would come back to spite her. And lo and behold, here he was. "Do you have a clue how many questions I have? I have so many questions that you left me with for two years, Brian. Like, was any of it real? Did any of them mean anything to you? Jesse? Leon? Letty?"

"Mia-"

Now, all of it just came flooding out, washing away any attempts Brian made to speak. "Did Dom mean anything to you? Did I-?"

"-Mia! Yes! Of course you did!" He interrupted, knowing full well that she was about to question his love for her. "I wouldn't be here right now if-"

"-Oh, cut the shit, Brian! You weren't here for two years! You screwed us over so hard, and then you just up and left like there was no point to it at all! You tore our family apart, you drained us. You're a leech!"

Brian jabbed a thumb into his eye and used to other hand to sweep through his hair. He was starting to lose any composure he fought to the death for. When he gained a sliver of control back, he paced forward to stand in front of her.

"Mia, listen, I-"

"-You know, when Dom told me that you let him go, I had hope… that everything you said to me that night was true. But you never came back…"

"Mia! Listen! I was a fugitive! I couldn't just show up whenever I wanted to. I had to work my ass off, clear my record just so I could be with you right here, right now. I swear! Look, I know it took a while-"

"-Yes, it has Brian! It was such a long time…" Mia said, her voice growing distant, defeated. "I wasted so much of my time waiting for someone I hated…"

In her tones, Brian could almost see the nights she stayed up hoping that he'd finally come back… and the disappointment the next morning when he never did. Then wondering why, hating herself, for waiting in the first place.

"...It was too damn long to ask for. I understand that you were on the run, but you should've at least tried to let me know you were still alive." Brian anchored his jaw and started giving in to defeat himself. "I waited for you. And then I stopped. And then? I moved on."

Brian paused. "What? What does that mean?"

"It means what it means, Brian. Whatever you thought you had with us? Whatever you thought you were coming back to tonight? It's gone. We've all moved on. Vince and Leon are gone. Letty is gone. Dom is in Japan, and-"

"-Wait, what?!" Brian said, violently shaking his head in utmost confusion. "Dom's in Jap-, ah, ugh, y-you're not making any sense!"

"No, it doesn't make any sense. It doesn't make sense that we had to uproot ev-ery-thing."

"Now, see, that's not fair," Brian started, on the verge of his voice breaking more so out of sadness opposed to anger.

"Excuse me?!"

"Mia, I made sacrifices too! Okay! Alright, let's not pretend I didn't put my neck out on the line for all of us in the moment it mattered. Mia, I waited for you too! For the right time I could finally make things right with you!"

"Oh, please! Don't you bullshit me, Brian! You expect me to believe you were some kinda saint this whole time?"

Brian opened his mouth to counter, but his conviction held his tongue. There was Monica Fuentes, whom he shared a small fling with. It wasn't anything special. But it did happen. And Brian did a terrible job hiding this fact from his eyes. It should've been impossible for Mia to look even more hurt, but she did. She bit her lip and turned her head away from him.

"...I can go on and on about how men like you are all the same. But I won't."

Both of them paused and let themselves let go of whatever breaths they were holding. They both looked down at the same time toward the living room table. The coffee had spilled over, and Brian just realized there was an ache in his shin. He was so out of it… so out of his mind and body. He felt so many regrets, wonders, and dreams of what he wanted for this visit. None of them were coming to fruition. And it killed him. Mia saw it in his eyes and bit her lip.

Silence.

Sometimes, it screamed louder than any words could muster.

Mia bent over to pick up the spilled coffee, and looked up to Brian as she did so. "I know that you probably want me to say that it was enough that you let Dom go. And as grateful as I am that you did, I can't say it is. For the longest time, I convinced myself that it was. But what you did… changed so much of our lives. None of us are the same person anymore. And it's all because of a lie. And for what?" She asked, no, more like pleaded. "Brian… for what? All the terrible things like murder, rape, and God forbid whatever else, the LAPD broke its neck over us?! Why did it have to be you out of all the cops in this city?!"

Mia cupped her forehead with her hand and set the glass upright. "God knows I hated the things Dom did. And I'm not excusing my brother at all. But before you open your mouth again, just stop and think about where we'd be if you didn't come and order that goddamn sandwich."

So Brian did so.

And he finally saw the true hurt that not just Mia, but what all of the Toretto family suffered through. For the last time that night, Brian looked into Mia's eyes. "I'm sorry, Mia."

"Is that really all you have to say?"

"I'm sorry it had to be me."/

=Two Days Later, Miami, Tej's Garage=

After the disastrous attempt to reconcile with Mia Toretto, Brian hightailed it back to Miami and thrust himself into the world of grease and oil. He could go days without speaking to anyone, as long as he was with an engine and a tool in hand. It was on a night like this, when Tej, Suki, and everyone else was out of the garage, leaving Brian to embrace the quiet echoes by himself. That was, until his peace was interrupted by the sound of heels clicking against the concrete.

Brian rolled out from under a client's Corvette, and tried his best to put on a welcoming look for Fuentes. She walked up to him with her hands stuffed in her pockets, a hesitant smile on her face.

"I was in the neighborhood. I'd hug you, but… you look a little dirty. And sweaty."

Brian forced a chuckle through his nostrils and eyeballed the pipe wrench in his hand, wishing he was talking to it instead of anyone else. Fuentes took the hint, took a deep breath with it, and got to the point.

"Listen, I just wanted to check on you."

"For what? I'm good."

She challenged him, narrowing her eyes. "You sure?"

"..."

"Brian, I know you left for L.A..You left for a few days and haven't been the same since. What happened? Did you see him?"

"Dom's gone. It's all gone."

Monica could see that that was the most Brian could muster, and even that was too much for him in the moment. Whatever happened, it was eating him up and then some.

"You know you can talk to me about anything right? Even this."

"Yeah. I know."

Brian sat back on the roller to dismiss himself from the conversation.

Before he could do so, Monica stopped him, squatting down eye level with him. "Brian… I know you've been street racing again. At first, it was every once in a while. But I've seen you going out at least twice a week now."

"I don't expect you to understand. You're not a street racer."

"Oh? You mean I'm not a psychopath willing to put innocent lives in danger for a quick adrenaline fix?"

"..."

"Brian. I am begging you. Don't go back down this path. Be a normal person. Get a job. I'll help you. Don't use street racing to pay your bills."

He shrugged and gave her his nonchalant stare.

"I can't do that. It's all I've got."

*End Flashback*

=Present Day=

At the end of the deep dive into his past, Brian took a breather and gauged the reaction of his team. The bleeding had stopped from his nose, but his heart begged to differ. It hurt. No matter how much he tried to play it cool.

All was quiet as the team just stood in silence in the aftermath of the attack until Suki broke the ice. "Y'know… even in retrospect, I don't think I'll ever be able to imagine you bein' a cop. Just seems so…-"

"-Left field?" Kenji finished for her.

She nodded. "Yeah. I guess those are the words for it."

Brian looked over his team. He was a bit on edge, worried, that such a dedicated group of street racers might be put off by his history. He looked at Rachel, who was staring back at him, like she was picking him apart with her thoughts.

"This doesn't change anything between us right?"

Rachel didn't give a direct answer, instead, mulled her thought process out loud. "When I looked into your records, it never said anything about your history with five-o."

"The FBI scrubbed my file clean."

"All just to get it dirty again? You're hardcore, Brian. I think that speaks to your motivations as a racer." Rachel shook her head with confidence, "So, no. You don't have to worry about any doubts on my end. You're the most legit street racer I've ever met. Straight up."

"Dunno…," started Angie, "You know what they say. Once a cop…-"

Brian clarified before she could finish, "-Listen to me, I can never go back to being a cop. It's not who I am. It was never who I was."

Angie shrugged her shoulders. "So, why did you do it?"

Brian massaged the bag of ice in his hand, deep in thought. "You know, maybe a few years ago I would've had some boy scout speech ready for you, ready to justify it. Now? Man, I can't tell you why I put on the badge. It was the worst time in my life. Always having my job threatened 'cause of the way I chose to do things. Y'know? I'll never go back to wearing blue. Not a chance in hell."

It wasn't often that Brian pulled back the curtains to his heart. Rachel took it for what it was and thanked him. "You're good, Brian. We trust you. You're family."

Family…

Now that's a word that always made Brian choke up. Whenever it came to mind, he always thought about Dom, and how adamant that man was about being true and all about family.

"If you don't got family. You got nothin'."

"Brian…" Rachel interrupted his thoughts. "We got your back."

He looked up at her, to his new family.

"Y'know what? What the hell," Angie threw up her arms and walked over to Brian. "I know I'm back 'n forth. But, forget I doubted you just now. I can tell by the way you even look at cars that you won't go back to punchin' tickets again." She nudged him in the arm with her fist.

"Yep. I second that," Kenji nodded. "But now, this introduces a whole new issue."

"What's that, Ken?" Asked Suki.

"Where I come from, no one steps over family. If somebody put their hands on my kin, those hands would be gone the next hour."

Oscar certainly agreed, yelling out a few sentences in Spanish, cursing out Dom.

"No, no, we shouldn't do anything hasty," deflected Brian. "Let's just be cool and take it one step at a time."

"Nah, I'm not," boomed Rome. He'd been oddly quiet for the conversation. But he looked beyond pissed to see his brother's face marked with blood. "I'll never be cool with someone who thinks they can just put their hands on my homies and it'll just be sweet. It's gonna be hell to pay with that Toretto dude. I don't give a damn what the past has to say."

"Rome-,"

"-Man, what?! You ain't apart of them no more, Brian! You screwed up before. Yeah. Maybe. Whatever. But it's time to move on! Don't let this Toretto business keep you behind."

Brian and Rome glared at each other, waiting to see who would break the stare first.

Rachel butted in and spoke her mind. "Brian. Roman's right. I'm not sayin' we have to go in fists swingin' next time we see Toretto. I'd obviously prefer you didn't… But…-"

Brian cut her off and shot up, his fist crushing the ice by the second. He realized they were right. As much as he hated to admit it, that was the case. "Look, none of you know Dom like I do. I mean, he's not just fast. Any expectation you have about him, you can forget it. He's better. We're gonna have to step it up if we're competing for the city at the same time as these guys."

"Then we'll have to 'step it up'," Rachel repeated Brian's words but with a more stern tone. She hated seeing her star driver attacked and in such a vulnerable state. "I'm gonna look into them. Lemme know if you need anything." She left without saying much of a goodbye, her competitive ego still clearly bothered.

As Brian watched her walk out to her car, he couldn't stop thinking about that word.

Family.

Was this what it really was?

It felt so good to race with Rachel and his other teammates. Live his dream with Rome. Get to know Kenji, Angie, and Wolf whenever he decided to show up.

But Dom.

Dom was Dom.

Someone that he could never just turn his back on. Someone he could never just abandon hope for, especially knowing that the two shared the same city.

For the first time, perhaps in his life, Brian felt surrounded by love, but more alone than ever.