TFATF Fic - Shock of Silence 1/11
Dec. 26th, 2007 07:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
raynedanserwritesThis WAS posted at the UMSFC website, until we closed the fic section down. Wanted to get it over here for posterity's sake. *coff*
CHAPTER: 1 of 11
AUTHOR: Den
RATING: PG-13 (out of general principal)
PAIRING: N/A
SUMMARY: After TFATF, what becomes of the team?
DISCLAIMER: Vince, Mia, Brian, Dom, Jesse, Leon, Letty and Lance and Johnny Tran all belong to Universal Pictures. I have borrowed them solely for my entertainment and that of my friends, and no gain, financial or otherwise, will be realized from this story. The other characters are a creation of my imagination.
NOTES: The biggest complaint I have heard about TFATF and the stories that have stemmed from it is that the characters are cardboard. One dimensional. It was my hope with this story that I would give more to them. To make them jump out at you and be more than a cardboard cutout. I hope I did that.
FEEDBACK: Please! I am a feedback junkie.
***** ***** *****
In her dreams, the bullets always missed Jesse: warning shots, not kill shots. In her dreams, Dom listened to her and didn't go chasing that last truck. And in her dreams, sometimes she even forgave Brian for lying to her.
But dreams faded with the rising sun. In the harsh reality of day, Jesse was dead. Murdered in front of her. Dom and Letty were gone who-knew-where. And Brian . . . well, he was still a liar.
The day Vince was discharged from the hospital, he showed up on the Torettos’ front doorstep. Leon stood next to him, carrying two overflowing duffel bags. They'd moved in over her protests, insisting that Dom wouldn't want her to be home alone.
“Mia?” A husky voice broke into her dreams.
She shielded her eyes with her hand and opened them slowly, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. She focused on Vince’s face and realized she’d fallen asleep sunbathing in one of the back yard lawn-chairs after she’d gotten home. Vince stood by the chair, cocking an eyebrow at her.
“V?”
“You’re going to sunburn if you stay out here much long, kiddo. You better get inside.”
She sat up, frowning at how loose the top of her swimsuit was. The suit was a modest two-piece that shimmered a brilliant green. She held on to the top as she stood.
“Good point. I’m going to go change. Are you coming in?”
Mia went in the back door, conscious of Vince close behind her. As she neared the front part of the house, she stopped to look at the pictures on the shelves lining the wall between the living room and the dining room. They were filled with pictures of Mia and Dom as they were growing up: of them with their dad, a picture of the team crowded around the Dom's Mazda RX-7 at Race Wars a couple of summers ago. That had been one of those rare times Jesse had smiled for something other than a car. In another picture, taken when they were all still in grade school, Vince had popped up between the two of them and displayed a toothy grin. Mia smiled briefly at the memory but the smile quickly faded to a frown. The picture next to it was a recent shot of Dom that belonged on the next shelf down. She quietly put the picture back in place.
Lining the walls of the upstairs hallway were more pictures. These were of their dad: working on the Charger, holding up a trophy from a race he’d won as he grinned ear to ear, holding on to a pink banana seat bike as Mia tried desperately to balance it. She shook her head. Memories. That’s all they were. All she had left. She walked the length of the hall as the memories reached out to her.
She pushed the door to her bedroom open and made a strangling sound. It was hard to take in the destruction all at once. The contents of the antique oak dresser had been reduced to a mountain of clothes on the floor. Blankets were a twisted heap at the foot of the bed. Feathers were everywhere and pillows were nowhere.
The dresser’s mirror had been smashed. The ebony beads to the rosary her father had given her for Confirmation were crushed and scattered across the top of the dresser and on the floor, mingling with the broken glass of the mirror.
“Oh, God,” Mia groaned.
She backed out of the room, bumped into the wall and slid down until she landed on the floor with a “thwump.” She felt a scream trying to claw its way out and shoved a fist into her mouth.
Vince must have heard her when she hit the wall, because he pounded up the stairs so hard the frames on the wall shook. The only other time she'd seen him look this frightened was when he'd been dangling off a speeding Freightliner.
“Mia?”
Not quite trusting her voice, she waved her free hand to her still-open bedroom door.
Vince stopped in the doorway. A grunt of dismay and disgust escaped him and then he was on his knees, reaching for Mia. He brushed loose strands of hair from her face and resisted the overpowering urge to kiss the top of her head. He settled for holding her close.
“Mia? Mia, honey, I have to ask. Was anyone here when you got home?”
Mia sniffled and shook her head. "I don't think so. I changed in the laundry room and never went upstairs." Her eyes filled with tears. "Who would do this, V?"
He tightened his arms around her. "I don't know, Mia. I don't know." Determination and emotion had given his voice a hard edge.
Vince the protector. All her life, she'd had Vince and Dom at her back. Now it was just Vince. She laid her head against his broad chest as hot tears fell.
*****
Leon looked at his passenger and a slow smile lit his face.
"You look beautiful tonight," he told her. He reached over and closed his hand around hers.
Beautiful was an understatement. Her dress was shimmering burgundy, gathered into thick straps at her shoulders and draped across the neck. It fell loosely to just above her knees. She wore a thick gold chain slung low on her hips as a belt. The only other jewelry she wore was a gold chain around her ankle and small diamond earrings. She'd kept her make up simple. Her black hair was loose and cascaded down her back.
The parking lot of their destination was nearly empty. He was grateful for that - fewer people to watch inside. The main seating area of the restaurant was a grand, sweeping room with dark paneled walls. Waist-high wooden planters lined the walls, with real ivy sprawling out of them. Landscape paintings dotted the walls. Booths with maroon leather benches occupied the corners. The rest of the restaurant was filled with pedestal tables and chairs. At the center of each table was a squat crystal vase with a lit candle inside.
The hostess had seated them at a table opposite the main entrance. Sitting down, his back nearly touched the wall behind him. His gaze floated constantly from the beautiful lady across from him to the door.
"Leon? You're a million miles away. Where did you go?"
He focused all of his attention on his date, vowing to forget for the evening. He smiled, hoping it looked more genuine than it felt.
"I'm sorry, baby."
"Leon, we drove as far as we did for dinner so we could relax. We even took my car. Now do it." She jabbed her index finger at him.
Leon’s smile grew, genuine now. She was right, after all. The soft light from the candle danced across her features. A beautiful woman, romantic dinner - how could he not enjoy himself? He was going to, even if it killed him.
A waiter appeared, poured ice water into sparkling glasses and took their orders before disappearing again. Moments later, he reappeared with hot rolls and salads. When the waiter had gone again, Leon chuckled softly. If he’d been asked, he would have sworn his toes were smiling.
“Yes, ma’am.” He performed a mock salute. “We also came here to eat, so dig in.” He reached across the table with his fork, stabbed a cucumber from her plate and plucked it into his mouth.
For a short time, the world outside disappeared. Leon found himself relaxing during the meal. He pushed aside the fact that the boy he had loved like a brother had been murdered. That the man he had idolized for years had disappeared. He pushed aside everything that made him sit watching the door even this far from home.
CHAPTER: 1 of 11
AUTHOR: Den
RATING: PG-13 (out of general principal)
PAIRING: N/A
SUMMARY: After TFATF, what becomes of the team?
DISCLAIMER: Vince, Mia, Brian, Dom, Jesse, Leon, Letty and Lance and Johnny Tran all belong to Universal Pictures. I have borrowed them solely for my entertainment and that of my friends, and no gain, financial or otherwise, will be realized from this story. The other characters are a creation of my imagination.
NOTES: The biggest complaint I have heard about TFATF and the stories that have stemmed from it is that the characters are cardboard. One dimensional. It was my hope with this story that I would give more to them. To make them jump out at you and be more than a cardboard cutout. I hope I did that.
FEEDBACK: Please! I am a feedback junkie.
***** ***** *****
In her dreams, the bullets always missed Jesse: warning shots, not kill shots. In her dreams, Dom listened to her and didn't go chasing that last truck. And in her dreams, sometimes she even forgave Brian for lying to her.
But dreams faded with the rising sun. In the harsh reality of day, Jesse was dead. Murdered in front of her. Dom and Letty were gone who-knew-where. And Brian . . . well, he was still a liar.
The day Vince was discharged from the hospital, he showed up on the Torettos’ front doorstep. Leon stood next to him, carrying two overflowing duffel bags. They'd moved in over her protests, insisting that Dom wouldn't want her to be home alone.
“Mia?” A husky voice broke into her dreams.
She shielded her eyes with her hand and opened them slowly, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. She focused on Vince’s face and realized she’d fallen asleep sunbathing in one of the back yard lawn-chairs after she’d gotten home. Vince stood by the chair, cocking an eyebrow at her.
“V?”
“You’re going to sunburn if you stay out here much long, kiddo. You better get inside.”
She sat up, frowning at how loose the top of her swimsuit was. The suit was a modest two-piece that shimmered a brilliant green. She held on to the top as she stood.
“Good point. I’m going to go change. Are you coming in?”
Mia went in the back door, conscious of Vince close behind her. As she neared the front part of the house, she stopped to look at the pictures on the shelves lining the wall between the living room and the dining room. They were filled with pictures of Mia and Dom as they were growing up: of them with their dad, a picture of the team crowded around the Dom's Mazda RX-7 at Race Wars a couple of summers ago. That had been one of those rare times Jesse had smiled for something other than a car. In another picture, taken when they were all still in grade school, Vince had popped up between the two of them and displayed a toothy grin. Mia smiled briefly at the memory but the smile quickly faded to a frown. The picture next to it was a recent shot of Dom that belonged on the next shelf down. She quietly put the picture back in place.
Lining the walls of the upstairs hallway were more pictures. These were of their dad: working on the Charger, holding up a trophy from a race he’d won as he grinned ear to ear, holding on to a pink banana seat bike as Mia tried desperately to balance it. She shook her head. Memories. That’s all they were. All she had left. She walked the length of the hall as the memories reached out to her.
She pushed the door to her bedroom open and made a strangling sound. It was hard to take in the destruction all at once. The contents of the antique oak dresser had been reduced to a mountain of clothes on the floor. Blankets were a twisted heap at the foot of the bed. Feathers were everywhere and pillows were nowhere.
The dresser’s mirror had been smashed. The ebony beads to the rosary her father had given her for Confirmation were crushed and scattered across the top of the dresser and on the floor, mingling with the broken glass of the mirror.
“Oh, God,” Mia groaned.
She backed out of the room, bumped into the wall and slid down until she landed on the floor with a “thwump.” She felt a scream trying to claw its way out and shoved a fist into her mouth.
Vince must have heard her when she hit the wall, because he pounded up the stairs so hard the frames on the wall shook. The only other time she'd seen him look this frightened was when he'd been dangling off a speeding Freightliner.
“Mia?”
Not quite trusting her voice, she waved her free hand to her still-open bedroom door.
Vince stopped in the doorway. A grunt of dismay and disgust escaped him and then he was on his knees, reaching for Mia. He brushed loose strands of hair from her face and resisted the overpowering urge to kiss the top of her head. He settled for holding her close.
“Mia? Mia, honey, I have to ask. Was anyone here when you got home?”
Mia sniffled and shook her head. "I don't think so. I changed in the laundry room and never went upstairs." Her eyes filled with tears. "Who would do this, V?"
He tightened his arms around her. "I don't know, Mia. I don't know." Determination and emotion had given his voice a hard edge.
Vince the protector. All her life, she'd had Vince and Dom at her back. Now it was just Vince. She laid her head against his broad chest as hot tears fell.
*****
Leon looked at his passenger and a slow smile lit his face.
"You look beautiful tonight," he told her. He reached over and closed his hand around hers.
Beautiful was an understatement. Her dress was shimmering burgundy, gathered into thick straps at her shoulders and draped across the neck. It fell loosely to just above her knees. She wore a thick gold chain slung low on her hips as a belt. The only other jewelry she wore was a gold chain around her ankle and small diamond earrings. She'd kept her make up simple. Her black hair was loose and cascaded down her back.
The parking lot of their destination was nearly empty. He was grateful for that - fewer people to watch inside. The main seating area of the restaurant was a grand, sweeping room with dark paneled walls. Waist-high wooden planters lined the walls, with real ivy sprawling out of them. Landscape paintings dotted the walls. Booths with maroon leather benches occupied the corners. The rest of the restaurant was filled with pedestal tables and chairs. At the center of each table was a squat crystal vase with a lit candle inside.
The hostess had seated them at a table opposite the main entrance. Sitting down, his back nearly touched the wall behind him. His gaze floated constantly from the beautiful lady across from him to the door.
"Leon? You're a million miles away. Where did you go?"
He focused all of his attention on his date, vowing to forget for the evening. He smiled, hoping it looked more genuine than it felt.
"I'm sorry, baby."
"Leon, we drove as far as we did for dinner so we could relax. We even took my car. Now do it." She jabbed her index finger at him.
Leon’s smile grew, genuine now. She was right, after all. The soft light from the candle danced across her features. A beautiful woman, romantic dinner - how could he not enjoy himself? He was going to, even if it killed him.
A waiter appeared, poured ice water into sparkling glasses and took their orders before disappearing again. Moments later, he reappeared with hot rolls and salads. When the waiter had gone again, Leon chuckled softly. If he’d been asked, he would have sworn his toes were smiling.
“Yes, ma’am.” He performed a mock salute. “We also came here to eat, so dig in.” He reached across the table with his fork, stabbed a cucumber from her plate and plucked it into his mouth.
For a short time, the world outside disappeared. Leon found himself relaxing during the meal. He pushed aside the fact that the boy he had loved like a brother had been murdered. That the man he had idolized for years had disappeared. He pushed aside everything that made him sit watching the door even this far from home.
