Contact 2/4 TFATF Fic Dom/Brian
Title: Contact Part 2
Rating: 13 UP
Pairing: Dom/Brian, Dom/Letty
Part 2 of 4
Warnings: a little violence, bad language
Feedback: absolutely. Thanks to all who fed and welcomed the author in the first go round.
Disclaimer: Ha, ha, ha, ha, Oh you were serious. This is completely for fun and not profit.
Summary: Post TF&TF AU (but aren’t all post flick fics AU) Dom’s side.
Author’s Note: There’s mention of a car that’s a 2005 which makes it totally anachronistic but the car is really pretty. And pretty is what counts right. Also even though it’s not plainly stated I know where Dom is.
Dominic Toretto pressed his forehead against the black plastic of the phone. He was appreciative beyond words at the moment for the privacy the hotel’s old school phone booths provided. With the solid wood door closed and the smoked glass, he was nearly completely obscured from the lobby traffic.
He hadn’t intended to hang-up exactly, but...
The first time the Cop said more to him than ‘hello’ he’d almost dropped the receiver. It bobbled in his hands for a few seconds before he was able to tighten the grip. At the end he wasn’t sure which had startled him more the words that followed the ‘hello’ or the obvious invitation to call again. It never occurred to Dom to be surprised that the Cop knew who it was on the other end of the line.
********************
It had been sweet beyond measure when Dom’s fist connected with the Cop’s jaw. Their connection of only moments before, as they cleared the train tracks together, lost in the reality of the Charger’s crumpled body, the approaching sirens and the daunting truth that Dom’s life was forever badly changed. Again. As the battered racer stared at the unconscious man at his feet, something akin to satisfaction had flared in his chest. He gave you his keys, he gave you his keys, he gave you his keys, echoed so very faintly in a corner of his mind. So faintly that he was able to ignore it completely as he lifted his foot and kicked the lying, betraying asshole in the ribs. The proximity of the sirens finally cut through in a way the echo hadn’t. Dom limped to the Supra as quickly as he could and was gone.
Making a vow not to go back to lockup was one thing, it was another to actually take steps to prevent it. Off the books, Dom had rented garage space in Silverlake from an elderly woman who needed the extra cash. From the outside, the two car garage wasn’t anything to look at, but with an off alley entrance it provided a certain amount of cover. The garage lent seconds when every second counted. Even as he’d taken the offered keys, Dom knew that the Supra was a very temporary solution. Ten second car or not, it’s paint bellowed "Check me out." If he was going to make it, he needed to be in something decidedly less high profile.
The Silverlake garage wasn’t tricked out, but it served its purpose. The last car anyone would peg as Dom Toretto’s, a ‘90 beige Buick, registered to an alias, sat in one of the spaces. Auto-piloted by the adrenaline and anger still coursing through his veins, Dom slammed out of the Supra, covered it up and scrambled to the floor safe in a dark corner of the garage space. The safe snicked open as soon as all the tumblers fell into place. Inside, there were three business size envelopes and a set of car keys. Dom grabbed everything. Once in the Buick, he retrieved sunglasses and a Dodger baseball cap from the glove compartment. With his makeshift disguise in place, the wanted man eased out of the garage.
Halfway to San Diego as the adrenaline anger cocktail lost its potency, the damage to his body and in his hand made itself more than known.
Trying to flex the hand he was driving with, Dom gasped as pain blazed in his busted knuckles. And that in turn encouraged the throbbing in his shoulder to rejoin the party. The image of the blond curled in the fetal position on the ground flashed in his mind’s eye. The pain and and the image of the Cop on the ground put the situation in a context that Dom could not ignore. That moment had gotten away from him the same way it had with Linder. The Cop had given him the keys and he’d been grateful. He remembered feeling that, for about a half a second, but with the wreckage of his father’s car behind him other uglier things clawed their way to the surface.
He had fallen for the oldest, most effective, freedom stealing con in the world. The self-con. He was in control of the situation. He could get out anytime. He could stop before it was too late. All lies that he told himself, because he hadn’t done any of that. He hadn’t gotten out before the drivers armed themselves. He hadn’t gotten out before the FBI took an active interest. He hadn’t gotten out before losing control and assaulting a cop. His hand shook on the steering wheel and he glanced at the envelopes on the passenger seat.
Three. Two would never be used. Jesse dead. Vince in custody. He took a little comfort in the two envelopes that had been missing from the safe. Letty and Leon. There should have been enough of a head start for them to be more than half way to safety. They’d probably been a little surprised at the instructions, but Dom was certain that if they could follow them they had. It would still be several hours before he’d know for sure.
********************
Sixty days. One thousand four hundred and forty four hours in exile. Dom sat on white sand staring at blue water. There was a reason, he thought, not for the first time, that movies always ended with the outlaw riding off into the sunset or sitting on the beach sipping an umbrella drink. There was a reason he thought that they didn’t show you the day after that or the day after that or.... The days when the realization came that getting away could be worse than getting caught. In prison he could count the days and know that each one behind him was another day closer to home. But now counting the days, counting the hours meant nothing. Just another day away from his real life. Another second, minute, hour, day of Letty trying to mask her anger and disappointment when she looked at him. Of Leon spending more time with the pretty tourists, who passed through town and avoiding the tension in the house.
Mexico. Mexico would have been a great place to retire after a successful last job. Cruise down south, sit on one of her beaches, sip a margarita. But the last job had been a disaster. Though he’d fallen for his own con, Dom hadn’t let the idea of Mexico distract him the way it had other members of the team. He hadn’t really believed that things would fall apart, but instinctually he’d planned as though they might. That was the first source of strain between him and Letty. Leon had taken the place they landed in his stride, but Letty had been something else entirely. In the beginning, they were both subdued by their injuries and grief, but as Letty recuperated, her anger took the pole position.
"What the hell happened to TJ, Rosarita, Cabo? What happened to fuckin’ Mexico, Dom." Her brown eyes flashed at him as her mouth turned downward into an ugly frown.
"There are people on our ass. Where do think they would look first?" That had quieted her down a little, but it hadn’t stopped the looks. They didn’t have any relationship distractions here either. Neither of them could hop in a car and take off until the edge was less jagged. There was no place to time out buffing, tweaking or tuning. Dom hadn’t wanted anything around that would tag them as other than regular tourists. The house barely had a garage.
The days following the Cop’s invitation, brought increasingly contemptous looks from Letty as the the pattern became obvious. He left the house around the same time each day without ever inviting Letty or Leon along. Dom could offer no clear explanation of why he did it. Why it had become necessary to hear the Cop talk about his day, or bitch about the neighbor blaring Armenian rap music, or listen as he read out loud the specs on the new Saleen S7. Why he’d stopped at the hotel gift shop and bought a postcard. Why it was so important.
There had still been anger, but the apology had done something to mute it. It didn’t blaze up anymore the way it had the first couple of times Dom had called pre-apology. Those times he had been so on the verge of screaming out his anger and frustration he’d simply hung up as soon as he heard the ‘hello’. Those times he’d definitely meant to hang up.
********************
Finally, Dom pushed himself out of the phone booth. When the Cop talked to him, Toretto played a little game with himself. Who would break first? The Cop managed not to address him by name in any of their other ‘talks’ and Dom managed never to say a word although he was tempted more than once. Maybe he should feel a little bit of triumph. He’d won. The Cop broke first. But the Cop hadn’t simply been the first to break the rules of game he didn’t know anything about, he’d actually sounded broken. And as he crossed the lobby, Toretto thought that maybe he should feel a little bit of triumph at that too. Maybe he’d gotten some of his own back. But the raw pain in the voice on the other end of the line had gotten to him more than a little, scared him more than a little. And now that Dominic Toretto was mostly out of the self-conning business, he couldn’t deny that there had been an impulse to offer some sort of comfort to.... For the first time in months the name came to him ahead of the usual derogatory litany. Brian.
‘You’re back early. I meant to be gone already. Your puta kick your ass to the curb where it belongs?"
It took Dom a minute to fully comprehend what was happening in his bedroom. Letty was throwing clothes into a duffle bag on the bed. Dom watched as if from some place far away while his girlfriend whipped around like a mini hurricane. He knew that he should say something, should make some sort of effort, but "Dom, please talk to me," echoed in his head preventing him from concentrating fully on storm Letty.
"You got nothing to say to me? He could only blink back at her while he tried to quiet Brian’s voice in his head.
"You are a son of a bitch Dominic Toretto. A first class son of a bitch. You think I don’t know about the hotel. You think I don’t know where you go every afternoon. . What the fuck? You expect me sit around in the ass end of nowhere while you play me?"
He loved Letty, had loved her for a long time, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice, couldn’t seem to find the fight. Still saying nothing, he watched as she picked up the last few things, her hairbrush, a twisty thing for her hair and finally her sunglasses. Ignoring Dom completely now, she muttered angrily under her breath as she zipped up the duffle.
The finality of that shook him out of his fugue a little. But even as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet, he knew it was the wrong thing to do. "Do you need some cash?"
"Go to hell." Grabbing up the bag, his apparently now ex-girlfriend pushed her way past him and out of the bedroom.
Later as he sat on the edge of the pool, staring at the circles his feet made in the water, the exiled racer thought of many things he could have said. Still none of them the right things.
He should have warned her to be careful. Reminded her that people were still looking for them. Warned her not to go north. Let her know that she could always come back. Not once did he think that he should have told her about his calls to Brian. ‘Dom, please talk to me.’
"Hey Dom," Startled, Dom nearly knocked his untouched longneck into the pool. Looking up, he found Leon raising a beer in a half salute to him from the other side of the pool.
"Hey, man."
"Sorry, I thought you heard me come out." Dom glanced toward the open patio door.
"No."
"Sorry," Leon smiled sadly. "You okay?"
Dom lifted his drink to his mouth. "Yeah, yeah."
"You need anything?"
"No, I’m good man."
"Okay," Leon lowered himself to sit on the opposite side of the pool and slipped his feet in. He moved his feet to mimick Dom’s. Leon’s eyes flicked to his mentor then down into the water.
"Um, Tessa’s leaving for the Penninsula in a couple of days," Leon said into his chest.
This week’s flavor, Australian, Dom thought. "It’s okay," he said quietly.
"Prolly only be a week. She is so smokin’ hot man. I mean you’ve seen her. And she wants me to come with her an -"
"It’s cool Leon. I get it. I get it. Watch your back man."
"I know we still gotta play it close. I’ll keep my head down."
"I know you will."
Both men took slugs from their bottles.
"Dom, this other girl you’re seeing -" Dom’s mouthful of beer ended up in the pool.
"There’s no girl, trust me bro it’s nothing like that."
"Okay, okay then. Letty was really mad. I don’t think she’s coming back."
Dom flicked troubled eyes to Leon’s and then over his head to the darkening sky. "No, probably not." And just like that the rest of his team, his family was gone.
Three days after he let his girlfriend walk out on him, Dom called Brian. The phone rang a long time before he hung up and dialed again. After at least ten attempts, he had no choice but to accept the obvious.
He hung up and dialed the phone again. Mia picked up on the first ring.
"Hel -"
He cut her off. "It’s me. I need you to do me a favor."
End Part 2