Fic: Winner Takes All
Fic: Winner Takes All
Fandom: The Fast and the Furious
Characters: Cast from movie verse
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Heavy language and some hints of non-consensual actions. Also sex. Duh.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I make no profit from these works of fiction.
Summary: Runs during the time line of the film. Deals with Brian's inner monologue, mainly, and the complicated situation with Dom.
A/N: See the film! If you have not seen the movie lately I'd recommend you view it again before you read the final chapter. And yes, this is the final chapter. I don't want to and cannot write any more to their story without seeing the new film, and I'm actually quite happy with this end. It is very reliant on the final scenes of the movie, so I repeat. Familiarize yourself with it! And most of all, enjoy.
Ch 9: Will to Live
It doesn't take much. People have been killed by far less. Brian once saw this cocaine addict take a bullet to the shin. The tibia and fibula both shattered, bone fragments caused internal bleeding, then rupture, then death. It was over in minutes. This other time a knife caught a pro's side, up under the ribs. Tiny cut, but she must have had shitty luck, cause she bled out in half an hour. His own mother had run to the store for milk and been hit by a Ford Pinto. A semi to the back of the Pinto, and that was the last all five people, in three vehicles, ever knew.
Twisted steel, speed, and a Charger turned projectile seemed like a recipe for certain death.
******
Brian thought maybe this was what fear really felt like. Dom's eyes staring into his, body shaking with rage, pain. So much pain. Vince twitching, Mia crying, and that look in the deep brown eyes that he seemed cemented to. Real fear doesn't feel like horror movie thrills, or falling off your bike as a kid. It doesn't even feel like racing, or losing control of a turbo-charged NOS fitted Evo.
It washes over you, like you're fainting, the black creeping in from the sides. It feels like the worst kind of helplessness, and the thought that if something god-awful were to be done to you, you'd let it happen. No one in the world had the right to be angry with Brian like Dom did. Not Tanner, Vince, not even Mia. Brian had dug his grave, and all Dom had to do was push him in. For one moment he didn't care about calling for the airlift, didn't care about stopping the bleeding. Dom's face cut him like a bayonet, twisting inside, rearranging everything he was made of. Brian couldn't look away, wanted to watch if he was about to die.
He realized he'd been the one with the weapon, the one to injure Dom. He should be dead. Maybe they should all be dead. He couldn't picture any one of them in prison. That shotgun in Dom's hand would certainly do the job. And yeah, he hadn't called the cops, because really, why would he? He'd known, known for too long to stop himself. Deep brown eyes looked hurt now, still angry, but not dangerous. Brian wished Dom's words weren't true. If this was what it meant to be a cop, he'd like a full refund, please.
Real fear is a barrage of bullets in front of your house. A thin form hitting the pavement that used to laugh, smoke, drink; hands that used to tweak engines and make love to women. Real fear makes you blind to your next steps until you've taken them.
*********
Brian really should have known. Racing. They'd always been moving toward this point, hadn't they? Nothing prepares you for a race that matters though. Not for money, not women, those things are insignificant to people like Dom, people Brian now considered himself one of. He felt himself drive, watched the Charger rear back, a force, a mind, all its own.
Ten seconds can be an awfully long time. It can also be the blink of an eye. A shocked smile of real, honest-to-god joy, and a horrifying glimpse into Death's spreadsheets.
Brian doesn't know if he'd rather Dom had seen the truck. He'll probably never be able to make that decision. The smile eclipsed the moment after in his memory, but he shakes awake sometimes, trucks crashing into him, and thinks that maybe he'd have wanted Dom to avoid the oncoming semi.
Dom's body felt hot, hands holding his shoulder as he slid from the window. There were no smiles of victory, surprise, or joy. The sirens made Brian twitch, thinking that if he could he'd like to scream. Maybe undo a few things in his life if he could. It wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind either. But then, twisted steel and train crossings had gotten Brian this far, had seen them both out alive. Ten seconds hadn't really been the end of them.
Fandom: The Fast and the Furious
Characters: Cast from movie verse
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Heavy language and some hints of non-consensual actions. Also sex. Duh.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I make no profit from these works of fiction.
Summary: Runs during the time line of the film. Deals with Brian's inner monologue, mainly, and the complicated situation with Dom.
A/N: See the film! If you have not seen the movie lately I'd recommend you view it again before you read the final chapter. And yes, this is the final chapter. I don't want to and cannot write any more to their story without seeing the new film, and I'm actually quite happy with this end. It is very reliant on the final scenes of the movie, so I repeat. Familiarize yourself with it! And most of all, enjoy.
Ch 9: Will to Live
It doesn't take much. People have been killed by far less. Brian once saw this cocaine addict take a bullet to the shin. The tibia and fibula both shattered, bone fragments caused internal bleeding, then rupture, then death. It was over in minutes. This other time a knife caught a pro's side, up under the ribs. Tiny cut, but she must have had shitty luck, cause she bled out in half an hour. His own mother had run to the store for milk and been hit by a Ford Pinto. A semi to the back of the Pinto, and that was the last all five people, in three vehicles, ever knew.
Twisted steel, speed, and a Charger turned projectile seemed like a recipe for certain death.
******
Brian thought maybe this was what fear really felt like. Dom's eyes staring into his, body shaking with rage, pain. So much pain. Vince twitching, Mia crying, and that look in the deep brown eyes that he seemed cemented to. Real fear doesn't feel like horror movie thrills, or falling off your bike as a kid. It doesn't even feel like racing, or losing control of a turbo-charged NOS fitted Evo.
It washes over you, like you're fainting, the black creeping in from the sides. It feels like the worst kind of helplessness, and the thought that if something god-awful were to be done to you, you'd let it happen. No one in the world had the right to be angry with Brian like Dom did. Not Tanner, Vince, not even Mia. Brian had dug his grave, and all Dom had to do was push him in. For one moment he didn't care about calling for the airlift, didn't care about stopping the bleeding. Dom's face cut him like a bayonet, twisting inside, rearranging everything he was made of. Brian couldn't look away, wanted to watch if he was about to die.
He realized he'd been the one with the weapon, the one to injure Dom. He should be dead. Maybe they should all be dead. He couldn't picture any one of them in prison. That shotgun in Dom's hand would certainly do the job. And yeah, he hadn't called the cops, because really, why would he? He'd known, known for too long to stop himself. Deep brown eyes looked hurt now, still angry, but not dangerous. Brian wished Dom's words weren't true. If this was what it meant to be a cop, he'd like a full refund, please.
Real fear is a barrage of bullets in front of your house. A thin form hitting the pavement that used to laugh, smoke, drink; hands that used to tweak engines and make love to women. Real fear makes you blind to your next steps until you've taken them.
*********
Brian really should have known. Racing. They'd always been moving toward this point, hadn't they? Nothing prepares you for a race that matters though. Not for money, not women, those things are insignificant to people like Dom, people Brian now considered himself one of. He felt himself drive, watched the Charger rear back, a force, a mind, all its own.
Ten seconds can be an awfully long time. It can also be the blink of an eye. A shocked smile of real, honest-to-god joy, and a horrifying glimpse into Death's spreadsheets.
Brian doesn't know if he'd rather Dom had seen the truck. He'll probably never be able to make that decision. The smile eclipsed the moment after in his memory, but he shakes awake sometimes, trucks crashing into him, and thinks that maybe he'd have wanted Dom to avoid the oncoming semi.
Dom's body felt hot, hands holding his shoulder as he slid from the window. There were no smiles of victory, surprise, or joy. The sirens made Brian twitch, thinking that if he could he'd like to scream. Maybe undo a few things in his life if he could. It wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind either. But then, twisted steel and train crossings had gotten Brian this far, had seen them both out alive. Ten seconds hadn't really been the end of them.