Rating: Teen
Warnings: Mild Violence
Spoilers: N/A
Author's Note: N/A

Chapter Five: Event Horizon

Definition from the Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary: the boundary of a black hole beyond which nothing can escape from within it.

Brian looked up at the knock on the wall to see a new rookie standing there. "O'Conner, the sergeant wants to see you in his office."

"Okay, I'll be right there." Brian looked around his small cubicle, checking to see if there was anything that needed his attention before he went to Tanner's office. Even though he was only part of Dom's crew for a couple of months while he had been an officer for over three years, it felt odd being back in the navy blue uniform of the LAPD.

It had been a few weeks since the end of the case against Vince and Jesse. Just like he had known, the jury had not sympathized with Vince because of his looks and gruff demeanor. He had been found guilty after only four hours of deliberation and sentenced to the full seven years with the possibility of being paroled for good behavior. Jesse, thankfully, had only received three years of probation where he was forbidden to race any cars. Unfortunately, he had been prohibited from designing and modifying any car to be an illegal racer. Through the letters Hector's group was still secreting to him, Brian had learned that Mia had been able to find a couple of mechanics to oversee the garage while she had hired a teenager to help out at the store. The LAPD had kept their word and left Harry alone; the man had decided to help the Toretto garage as much as he could. He had also learned that Mia had needed help to pay the bills for college. A package had arrived at her house containing enough money to cover the tuition and textbooks that she needed.

Patting himself down and smoothing down his navy blue uniform, Brian stood up. As nonchalantly as he could, he crossed the room heading for where his mentor's office was, ignoring the looks and whispers of the other police officers. Despite the success of the case, the rumors that he was a dirty cop still floated in the gossip-strewn lockers and hallways of the police station. He knew that those rumors would follow him until he left the force or was forcibly retired. In the dark of the night, he focused on Mia's letters, reminding himself why he was doing this. The hope that he would be able to be with Mia without shame was what kept him moving forward despite the obstacles in his path.

At Tanner's office, Brian studied the man that had been his mentor once he had been hired by the LAPD. The older man looked more ragged and tired than usual. Tanner was messaging his eyes, his glasses dangling off of one hand. He felt bad that he had betrayed him for everything he had done but he couldn't bring himself to let Mia go. He knocked on the doorjamb.

"Come in, Brian." Tanner pointed him to one of the chairs before the desk. "Sit down. There are some things you need to know."

Brian took the offered chair, trying to keep his body from twitching under Tanner's scrutiny. "How bad is it?"

"It isn't bad per se." Tanner cleaned his glasses before putting them back on. "As you know, the mayor's position was embattled in the office due the issues surrounding the political battlefield. It seems his gamble to show you as a gallant officer wasn't enough. He'll be leaving by the end of the year probably along with the police chief. Luckily for you, the chief was able to sign your request to transfer to the Metro Division. Do you still want to go through with the transfer?"

Brian rested his head on his hand, mulling it over. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew that the officers at this police station no longer trusted him and not being able to trust your partner could get you killed. There was always the risk that he went on a call and would need back up. He had heard tales of officers that had been labeled traitors and where the other officers would not come to their aid. "Yeah, I want to go through with this. It'll give me a fresh start. Have you walked with the captain at Metro?"

"I have. His name is Fuller. I think he's heard of your exploits here but he's still willing to give you chance due to your file and your exceptional scores at the academy."

"I'm taking to mean that he hates my guts but since the chief signed off on it, he can't do anything about it."

"That sounds about right." Tanner agreed. "You might want to be on your best behavior there, Brian. He'll probably be looking for any reason to stick you in the gun cages or the garage where you won't be able to climb out from."

Brian sighed. He head tales of the officers who were punished by sending them to the gun cages or the garages. There, the other patrol officers would treat the others as if they were lower class, intentionally get their equipment dirty or damaged so as to make the others suffer more to get them cleaned and prepared on time. He didn't plan on being anyone's whipping boy. "I should probably look forward to the graveyard shifts and start stocking my fridge with energy drinks."

"Brian, it's not a laughing matter. Fuller is known to have a grudge and a very long one at that. He wants to climb into the chief or mayor's chair. Fuck with him and he'll try to screw you over."

"Do you think he will be disgruntled if I took some vacation off before I officially transfer over to his department?"

"Yes, I do believe he will be irritated if you do decide to take your vacation then. Fuller won't play with you, Brian. He'll probably bury you in his office closet and leave your skeleton there as a warning to others." Tanner eyed the younger man, wondering why he had asked the question. The whole time he had worked in his division, Brian had rarely asked for days off unless it was for sickness. Frankly, Tanner had to force Brian to go on vacation before his days expired and frankly that move wasn't due. Unless . . .

"You're planning to do something stupid." Tanner stated, not even putting it as a question. "The only question is what?"

"Tanner, I've got this. You've already done so much for me already." Brian said, his voice solemn.

"Of course. I was the one that found you in that shithole of a detention center. Who knew where you would have been." Tanner remembered the time he had first laid eyes on Brian who had only been a young teenager at the age of 16, full of rage and grief over the recent loss of his mother at the hands of his alcoholic father. The aggressive nature of the boy then had reminded Tanner of a cage mustang, having been raised on a ranch; the flying fists morphing into flailing hooves, the spun golden locks streaming into a full mane.

That day, Tanner had broken the self-appointed rule that he would not try to get emotionally evolved in children that were victims in so many cases. That day, he simply walked forward and clamped a stern hand down on the angry, confused teen, bringing him to stop with a simple, softly spoken command. The next second, his arms were full of a sobbing, broken child that had seen things that a child never should have to see. He had comforted Brian for two hours, trying to be the father figure the youngster desperately needed.

Over the course of the next few months, Tanner carefully guided the teenager from the self-destructive path he was walking onto one that would be more beneficial to him, not to mention the rest of society. Brian worked hard, honing the keen mind he had hidden for so long and collecting all of his school credits plus a couple of easy college courses to graduate by the time he was released from the detention center at the age of 18. By the time he was accepted into the police academy, he had his associate's degree in criminal justice. Brian had been proud the moment the diploma had been placed into his hand. It wasn't a bachelor's or a master's but it was something neither of his parents had ever earned in their lives. To Brian, it meant he didn't have to be like them.

"Probably in jail by now or racing the streets in Barstow in a stolen car or dead in a ditch somewhere. Believe me, you don't want to know right now otherwise you'd probably shoot me. I'll tell you later once it's all set and done." Standing up, Brian held out his hand at Tanner. "You're the one that keeps giving out the second chances even though I used up my third one and you're still giving me more."

"Everyone makes the wrong decision. You just have to learn from it and move on." Tanner took the offered hand. "Remember, Brian. Sometimes, doing the right thing isn't doing the right thing." He said in a low voice, staring hard into Brian's eyes. Brian nodded, the words echoing within him. "But just as long as there is a tomorrow, there will always be a chance to set things right. Good luck. I don't want to see your ass in a hospital or newspaper again. I'm bald enough already."

"Will do." With that, Brian walked out of Tanner's office.

"Look, I don't care what you have to do but you need to get it done. The director is breathing down my neck to get this case closed." Bilkins said into the phone. "Follow them, set up shifts if you have to. I don't care if you have to pull men from other cases. This one is high priority." He waited until the other man answered. "Good, now see it through."

A knock at the door caused Bilkins to look up to see his assistant sticking their head in. "You have a Brian O'Conner from the LAPD waiting to see you. He seems insistent to meet with you."

Eyebrows furrowing at the unexpected news, Bilkins nodded, motioning for the assistant to let him in. "I'll call you later to finish this conversation. Get the ball rolling." He ended the call just to see the younger man step in, dressed comfortably in casual wear. He remained standing, hands shoved into his pockets. "Color me surprised to see you here, O'Conner. Can you explain to me why I had to end an important call for you considering the circumstances of our last association with each other?"

"I just came here to settle old demons and put them to rest, Bilkins. Nothing more." O'Conner stated calmly.

"Exactly what demons?" Despite the question, Bilkins had an idea about what they were. During the LA operation, it was plain to see that the officer had struggled with the loyalty toward the LAPD and the growing friendship with the Toretto crew.

"I'm sure you are aware that the way the LA operation ended was not the way I wanted it to go down-" O'Conner started.

"I'm not so sure about that," Bilkins interrupted harshly. "Despite what your superiors were able to twist around in the media, I believe that your personal feelings began to affect your ability to make the right decisions, particularly your feelings toward the sister. Any real officer of the law would have known that the Torettos were the ones behind the heists."

O'Conner leaned forward, anger burning in his blue eyes. "Any real agent would have known that the evidence collected at the point in time only eliminated suspects. None of it pointed to the Torettos outright." Leaning back, O'Conner spread his hands. "But I did not come here to fight with you over the case. I did my job. I caught the suspects I could. In return, I got wounded in the line of duty."

"What did you come for?"

"I came here to offer my services as an undercover operative. In return, I would like full pardons for the entire crew."

Bilkins laughed darkly. "You just spouted all that bullshit, stating that you did not let your personal feelings hamper your decisions, yet you come here to request pardons for the criminals you were after. Do you really expect me to believe your sincerity?"

O'Conner's brilliant blue eyes looked at him head on, eyes more serious than Bilkins had ever seen before, including when they were working on the LA case. "I'm sure you've had decisions that warred with your sense of what is right and what is wrong despite the fact you know the laws. Maybe over time, that line merged with the definitions written in the sand by the laws. I did what the law asked of me, Bilkins, but that consolation is not enough to make me believe those choices I made were the right ones."

That speech stopped Bilkins in his tracks, the question legitimate. He studied the young man before him, taking in the growing stress lines in the young face, the marks of a changed man written in his body. Before the Toretto case, the young officer has seemed invincible, a titan among mortals who seemed untouchable by the violence that ran the streets of LA. Now, he had met his own mortality with the wound delivered to him by the Trans. He had read the medical reports, the final notes written by his attending physician. O'Conner was lucky to have survived.

With that knowledge, O'Conner had taken the lesson and matured more than what Bilkins had thought he was capable of. It seems that Bilkins had underestimated him. "I suspect you want full pardons for everyone including Toretto himself." Bilkins asked. At O'Conner's nod, he continued. "I hope you realize that getting a full pardon for Toretto would be near impossible, especially with the fact that he murdered another suspect in full view of the public."

"I understand."

"You can work for pardons for the other members. Bradford and Alvarez will be easier to get as they are already doing their restitution for their crimes."

"I need to procure the pardon for Leticia Ortiz and Leon Sanchez as soon as possible as well."

At O'Conner's tone, Bilkins locked eyes with the other man once more. "You have talked to them. You do know it's a crime to not report a wanted criminal to the proper authorities as well as harboring them."

"I've got sources and ears on the ground. I haven't spoken with the Toretto crew since I broke my cover." O'Conner stated readily without blinking an eye.

Bilkins wondered if he should arrest O'Conner but ultimately decided against it. "You walk a fine line, that's for sure. Based on that request, you would want to bring Santos home as soon as possible." He allowed himself to think. On the office grapevine, Bilkins had heard that he was being considered to replace another head agent on a growing major case in the South. From he was able to gather, the case had to deal with drug and money runners, a prime position for an undercover operative with the skills O'Conner had. "I can't promise anything at this point, especially on the timeline but I may have a case for you." Bilkins finally answered. He threw a pad at O'Conner. "I'll need your contact information so I can alert you the moment I have any news. What about Sgt. Tanner? Wouldn't he ask questions as to why he would be losing one of his officers for a time?"

"Sgt. Tanner isn't my supervisor anymore but I do have a few months of vacation built up so I can start with that." O'Conner answered, writing down his information. "Nice meeting with you." O'Conner handed the pad back and left.

Bilkins dropped the pass on his desk as if it was acid. He sighed heavily at the blue scrawl over the yellow notepad. "Mama was always right about sleeping with dogs. You get fleas."

"Do you really think it's a brilliant idea to gamble the success of my operation on an officer like him?" Agent Christopher Markham asked the FBI agent that had been assigned to his case, skimming through the personnel file he had been handed. "I can read between the lines of the report on the LA case. Despite what the chief of police said, he turned on the operation. You're luckily you even were able to put that suspect you had, the only suspect you caught." He threw the file on the table.

Bilkins had called the Customs agent to the LA office, as a sign to remind the other man that despite what he may think, the operation was being handled by both agencies with the FBI in the lead. Tagging along with Agent Markham was the rookie Customs agent that would be riding with O'Conner on the case.

"I'm not saying Officer O'Conner did the best work on the case but he does have the potential to be one of the best undercover officers the LAPD has." Bilkins did not say that O'Conner would have to separate his real self from the operations so that he wouldn't confuse himself on the decisions he had to make. That's why Bilkins chose this case to call in O'Conner's skills at driving. With a man like Carter Verone, he doubt that Brian would be pulled in by the lead suspect. "In the end, we can trust him."

"The LA case is riddled with mistakes. We can't afford that here. If we give him one little slip up or mistake in any document and he will slip away to Argentina." Markham jabbed his finger on the table. "All of our street informants are telling us he's moving his base of operations back to his homeland. We'll never catch this guy the moment he leaves US soil."

"I have a feeling that O'Conner won't drop the ball on this one. He feels he owes to me to make up for the LA mess."

Markham straightened. "There's something you're hiding from me, Bilkins, something about why O'Conner is joining us. I will find out."

A knock at the door ended their conversation early, Bilkins welcoming in O'Conner. Unlike the last visit, he was dressed more sharply though not formal. His movements were less stiff, no doubt due to the healing wounds of his injuries and subsequent operations to repair the damage. According the records, O'Conner had been declared fit for duty by the medical personal with no restrictions.

"Agent Bilkins." He greeted, giving a small, respectful nod.

"O'Conner, this is US Customs Agent Christopher Markham, senior agent in charge of the operation, and Agent Michael Dunn, who will be your partner for the duration of the operation. Markham, this is Officer Brian O'Conner, who is currently being loaned to us from the LAPD."

"So you're the officer that almost single handedly screwed up the LA case. How do I know that you won't screw up this case?"

"I won't. Bilkins asked me to help provide assistance that your agents can't do. I did not come here to explain his request to you."

"I told you, Chris that we need to do a new approach to Verone that he won't see coming. Officer O'Conner can and will be able to pull this off with our assistance."

Brian pointed at the man sitting at the table, silent so far during the conversation. "Are the both of you really serious in Agent Dunn being my partner? No offense, pal."

"He was the head of his class at Glynco." Markham sneered, referencing the Academy for the United States Customs and Border Protection in Georgia.

Brian raised an eyebrow. "So was I when I graduated the LAPD Academy. The man who was second after me quickly washed out from the force, couldn't handle the stress of the job. Just because they're the top of their class doesn't mean they can handle the rigors of the real duties on the streets."

"And why do you think that Agent Dunn won't be able to be your back up during the operation?" Bilkins asked before Markham could retort. The man's face was already reddening though O'Conner had only been in the room for a few minutes.

"Because he doesn't know the street lingo and probably doesn't know the finer details of the cars that we can expect on those streets. The moment we step out onto those streets, the other racers will be able to smell him and that will alert your suspect about any person who doesn't belong there. I don't know about Agent Dunn, but I for one don't want a bullet in the back or front of my skull."

"Hmm, you do have a point regarding the ins and outs of the cars." Bilkins invited O'Conner to test Agent Dunn, knowing the man would fail.

"Can you tell me the major difference between the 1969 Dodge Charger and the 1970 model?" O'Conner asked the younger man.

Agent Dunn paused his movements, obviously thinking the question through. "Um, the body was different?"

Brian rocked back on his heels, eye the older Customs agent. "The most notable difference was in the look and placement of the bumper. Do you really think I'm going to survive long with a rookie who can't tell between a Honda and an Acura?"

Markham snarled grabbing the can from Dunn and throwing it into the trashcan where it clanged to the bottom. "What are you suggesting then, that you go in solo? The case requires a two man team and frankly, I don't trust you to work this case." Markham jerked his head at Dunn to get out and wait for him outside while they finished.

"Verone will be hiring a pair of drivers who will work as a team. You'll need a partner for this operation." Bilkins explained to Brian, ignoring the other man's statement and the departure of the rookie. "It will also ensure that you'll have back up on the operation in case things go FUBAR."

"If I'm going to do this, I'm going to need someone who knows his way around cars, not to mentions someone who actually has skills behind the wheel."

"If it's another officer, I can get him temporarily assigned to us though the different jurisdictions might be a little tricky." Bilkins said as he thought over the possible laws he might have to bend to get the potential officer on board. Getting O'Conner on board a federal investigation had taken some blackmail and promises under the table to get everything signed off on.

O'Conner chewed his lip, wondering how to break it to Bilkins. "That's the thing. He's not an officer."

"Oh, really? Is he one of the crew?" Markham asked sarcastically, still angry over the fact that Dunn had failed the test.

"No, Markham. He's someone from my past and I'm damn sure he'll be willing to do this to get off his parole early and his record wiped clean."

Markham snorted. "This just seems to be getting better and better. Not only am I forced to have a dirty cop on my hands, he wants to bring in one of his friends to the party."

"If you want this operation to happen, you're going to need people who don't look like they came off the academy press and who'll need mommy holding their hand."

"What's his name?" Bilkins asked, interrupting the growing spat between the two.

"Roman Pearce. I met him while I was in juvie, got caught in a raid for stolen cars just after I graduated from the academy in LA. He's currently paroled in Barstow."

The older Customs agent turned to Bilkins. "You are seriously considering in going along with this? We can get another agent from your side or my team to fill this role in."

"Markham, we've talked about this before. Verone has caught all our other previous officers who posed as illegal street racers in operations past. Fuentes is lucky since she's his personal assistant. We need drivers with the skills to pull this off. As much as I hate to say it, O'Conner did learn a few things from Toretto that would no doubt be a great asset in him securing spots on the runners that Verone is looking for." Bilkins explained once more. He stood up. "I guess you and me will be taking trip to Barstow. Are you going to bring anything?"

O'Conner mulled the question over, going through what he needed for the operation. "Are you guys going to provide us the vehicles for the case?"

"Of course. Our mechanics have already designed and modified the vehicles that will be used for the operation. They're currently in Miami."

"Which means they have tracking devices." Blue eyes locked gazes with his own. "They need to be removed. All of them."

"It's FBI policy that any agents' or informants' car be outfitted with the tracking devices so we know their every move."

"Plus, it's a great way to get your agents killed with a man like Verone."

Already, Bilkins could feel the headache coming on. "I'm sorry, O'Conner. That's one thing that won't happen no matter how much you'll try to push it." Bilkins walked to the door, opening the door. "I can provide you with a 100 grand. However you spent it in regards to the mission can be overlooked readily enough."

O'Conner hummed his throat as he walked to the door. "What time will be leaving for Barstow?"

"Be at Terminal 1 at LAX by 8 tomorrow. We'll take a short flight to Barstow to pick up your boy."

"You know, Bilkins, you're really not that bad once you mellowed out."

"Don't thank me yet, O'Conner. This partnership between us is just beginning the operation can crash and burn and it'll be both our asses out on the street."

"At LAX tomorrow." O'Conner left, walking down the hallway without a care in the world.

When Brian had left Barstow the moment he had been released from juvenile detention, he had vowed that he would not return to his hometown. Once he left, Barstow would be relegated to a permanent place in his past. He had no intention of ever coming back.

Except, there was only one thing that could draw him back.

The place hadn't changed at all in the seven years since he had packed the meager belongings and what little remained of his mother he had in a beat up Toyota and left for the last time or so he thought. Los Angeles had an urban grittiness to it that was unique to that particular city. While one could get lost among the hustle and bustle of the city of angels, the grittiness that permeated through his hometown was more intimate, more familiar and not in a good way.

He narrowed his blue eyes against the glare of the late summer sun as the junkyard cars rumbled onto the dirt arena floor, bright white numbers painted on the sides of the sacrificial autos. Almost immediately, he zeroed out the familiar image of Rome against the other competitors, the cocky stance almost screaming out at Brian. The small speedway crowd cheered as the announcer counted down the start of the derby. As the cars rammed each other, metal crunching and engines roaring in protest, Brian took the time to study the countenance of his former friend. Despite the exuberance Rome projected as he knocked out car after car, Brian could tell it wasn't the same innocent carefree attitude Rome had before the arrest.

He knew underneath that familiar yet unfamiliar exterior, Rome carried that same burning hate toward him for seemingly abandoning him when he had been picked up in the raid, the same hate he reserved for officers of the law.

"Do you really think your friend will help you?" Bilkins asked, munching slowly on the popcorn he had bought at the only stand, speaking for the first time ever since they had gotten off the government plane.

Brian almost wanted to say yes but he bit the response, thinking over Bilkins' question in his mind. Would Rome help him? If he hadn't been a cop, there was a good chance Rome would have jumped at the chance to take the monitoring device that was locked around his ankle but Brian still carried a badge with him, was still tied to a law enforcement organization. "It could go either way." He finally answered.

"If he doesn't agree to help us, you'll have to look for a partner elsewhere." The emphasis on the last work had Brian immediately knowing that Bilkins meant he would have to look within the ranks of the FBI or Customs who could pull off the job.

"Then I better hope he agrees as I seriously doubt I'll safe with a fresh-faced rookie. Someone like Carter Verone will smell him a hundred miles away and he'll put a bullet in our heads before we say anything." Brian watched as the show ended, his eyes following Rome as he stalked across the dirt out of the arena, back ramrod straight. No, it looked like the three years since he had seen Rome hadn't lessened the anger at all. In fact, it probably had amplified it. The two LEOs left the stands, moving to intercept the ex-con.

Brian whistled loudly, the sound piercing the air. "Roman Pearce!" His former friend continued toward the shitty trailer parked near the entrance to the speedway. Whatever was going to happen needed to happen to the clear the air between them. He wasn't sure what Rome had learned while in prison but since Brian had left Barstow, he had learned a few things as well. "Yo, whatever happens next, just let it go. This is between me and him." He didn't want Rome to get in trouble for beating up an off-duty officer. The purpose was to give him a chance at a free life, not at another tour in the slammer.

Bilkins shrugged his shoulders. "I ain't in it."

Whistling again, Brian made the sound sharper. "Rome!" He barked, using his officer's voice that he had learned in the academy and hone while working the streets of LA. It apparently grated on the other man's nerves as he turned around, snarling. "Only my home boys can call me Rome, pig." Brian showed no emotion as the loogie landed near him, ignoring the challenge for the moment.

"I got a deal for you." Brian shoved his hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels, warily watching his former friend.

Rome threw his head back, laughing darkly. "That's rich coming from you." He stalked toward Brian, his dark eyes burning with fury. "You think you can go around, offering deals like you're something? How do I know you're not pulling my leg?"

"The FBI and Customs are running an operation that needs someone who knows how to drive. Bilkins worked with me before and pulled me into this operation, however, we need a second driver. I need someone I can trust to watch my back if shit goes to hell."

Rome bared his teeth. "And what makes you think you can trust me, that I won't rat you out?"

Brian nodded at the ankle monitoring device peeking from underneath Rome's baggy black pants. "If you help us complete the mission, they'll take the device off and clean your records. You'd be a free man. I doubt you would do that and mess up your second chance."

"Just like that?" Rome's hands tightened, the leather creaking ominously. Brian withdrew his own hands from the pockets, loosening his stance.

"Just like that."

"And what about you, Brian? Still a filthy cop?"

"I still have my badge." Brian withdrew his jacket slightly to show the silver shield of the LAPD attached to his badge.

Brian saw Rome's hand clench into a fist, his leather glove creaking in warning. He reacted, jerking his body back but it wasn't fast enough. The fist glanced his chin, knocking him off balance. He stumbled back, Rome following with dark intent in his eyes. He blocked another punch, stepping forward. Brian's hand shot out, slamming into Rome's left shoulder, tipping the bigger man over his leg. He grunted as Rome grabbed at his arm, pulling Brian down with him.

The officer reacted, rolling Rome onto his back. The two struggled, each of them, trying to gain the upper hand. Brian's head snapped back, Rome landing another blow. Dazed, Brian could not defend against Rome pulling both his legs against his chest and kicking out, his feet slamming into Brian's chest and sending him sprawling out on the dirt floor. Both of them scrambled to their feet, Brian wiping at the trickle of blood near the corner of his mouth.

Both of them kept their eyes on each other, ignoring the FBI agent as he headed off to the trailer steps to sit down. The two combatants continued to circle each other, waiting for the opening. Brian knew, however, that Rome had very little patience. A few seconds later, the wait paid off as Rome lunged, his punch swinging wide. Brian stepped back, the punch missing him by a few inches. As Rome stepped past him, Brian grabbed him, his right arm latching Rome's outstretched wrist, the other coming down on Rome's upper arm. The force and weight behind Brian's body caused the elbow between his hands to lock. Using the now locked joint, Brian manhandled his former friend to the ground. Rome grunted as Brian's knee dug into his back, grinding down on the individual vertebra. Brian twisted the captured arm behind Rome's back, locking the wrist.

"Fucking faggot." Rome gasped, turning his head to deliver the epithet at Brian. "Pig."

"Under the circumstances, that would be construed as attacking an officer. That's against the term of your release." Brian remarked, returning Rome as the man continued to struggle.

"Going to send me back, O'Conner? That seems just like you."

Brian was quiet for a moment. "No, I'm not going to send you back. That wasn't why we came." Pushing back against Rome, Brian got up and stepped away for a second, putting distance between them. "It's a second chance, Rome."

"You think this will make everything right between us?" Rome gestured between them, disgust written on his face.

"I'm only offering this once because you were my friend once. The moment I turn my back, the deal is off the table and you can return to that shit-hole trailer you're leaving in."

"Big badass cop, throwing deals out left and right." Rome turned around, heading toward the trailer where Bilkins was, finishing the last of his popcorn. Brian followed behind, keeping a distance between him and Rome.

"All done?" Bilkins asked the bedraggled officer.

Rome stopped before Bilkins, his dark gaze on the older man. "If I do this, my record will be wiped clean?"

"Clean slate, including juvenile detention, if you do this for us. Every single document will be destroyed."

"And I have to ride with this punk?"

"I'm afraid that's not negotiable. Officer O'Conner will be the lead agent on this case."

Rome was silent for a moment, thinking it over. "If I do this, I won't ever have to him again."

"Once the operation is over and the papers signed. I'm gone." Brian said, burying the residual hurt under his mask that he had cultivated during the years.

Ignoring his former friend, Rome looked at Bilkins. "I'm in."

~ Three Weeks Later ~

Brian and Rome watched as the area was flooded with police officers from the Miami-Dade County Police Department and US Customs agents, securing the wrecked but still floating luxury boat to the dock. Agents were covering every inch of it to make sure no one was hiding. Enrique had been carefully removed from where Rome had smashed him against the wall with the Dodge Challenger, miraculously still alive though suffering from trauma injuries to his chest and abdomen. They had heard from the conversation around them that Roberto was currently the target of a manhunt in the glades where Rome had ejected his into. Considering they had called in the search dogs and helicopters equipped with infrared, they believed they would catch him soon.

One of the paramedics from the waiting ambulances continued to tend to Rome's injured arm, bandaging it tightly after making sure the bullet had exited and disinfecting the entry and exit wounds. From the melee of black and whites, Agent Markham approached the two, hands gripping the latches of his bulletproof vest. The paramedic carefully placed Rome's arm into a sling. "That ought to do it." She picked up her kit and walked back to her ambulance, leaving the three men alone to talk.

"So there were three bags total, huh? The three from the boat?" Markham asked, making sure everything was accounted for. Considering how much money was in those bags, Markham was a little disappointed but considering Verone had been captured in possession of the bags, he was happy that they had caught him red-handed. All across Miami, FBI and Customs along with the Miami PD were moving in on the properties owned by Verone as well as other unofficial ones that were linked to him.

"So we good, right? My record's clean?" Rome asked Markham, not even acknowledging the other man's question.

The US Customs agent looked at the two men, noting the blood caked on them and the tired expression on their faces. Over the past week, both had been witnesses to a police detective being tortured, chased by local and federal law enforcement agencies, almost executed, and had rescued one of his undercover agents while holding up their side of the deal despite the numerous attempts on their lives. "You held up your end. Your records will be cleaned. O'Conner, your terms will also be honored. I'll have the paperwork for Alvarez, Bradford, Sanchez, and Ortiz's records to be cleaned along with Pearce's."

The two of them exchanged, Brian nodding his head. Rome got up gingerly and went to the back of the Charger, carefully opening up the trunk. Markham's eyes took in the three black bags being collected and dumped at his feet. From the weight, he could tell that the money Verone was going to take with him had been easily doubled. "So, maybe there were six bags. I guess we can call it even." Rome finished.

"Agent Dunn." Markham called out, the young rookie turning from where he was inventorying what they had caught Verone with at the truck.

"Sir?"

Smiling at the two, Markham clasped hands with Pearce. "We found some more evidence." He shook hands with O'Conner, silently saying goodbye. Agent Dunn came to the three, picking up the bags and taking them quickly to the truck to be bagged and logged in, Markham following behind. They couldn't afford any mistakes with a criminal like Verone, especially not with the lawyers he would be able to buy.

Still smiling, Brian and Rome caught sight of Verone being attended by two paramedics, a couple of heavily armed Customs agents around him, geared to the teeth with body armor. Blood was running down his shoulder, his chest bare after his designer shirt was cut away to reveal the bullet wound Fuentes had put there.

"Don't drop the soap, big homey." Rome laughed, flashing his pearly whites at the older man.

Brian winced inside, still keeping his smile. Despite the jest behind it, Brian had a feeling that Rome might have learned that from personal experience and to top it, that statement wasn't one you should say to a man like Verone. Especially if the man smiles like the way Verone was smiling now. Brian thought as the only reaction from the captures criminal was to raise the corner of his lips in a disturbing parody of a smile to Rome who was still chuckling.

"I hope you know that when he gets out, he's gonna kill your ass." Brian said through his teeth, immediately knowing the man would buy the best defense lawyers money could buy.

Rome continued to chuckle until he realized that Brian wasn't joking. "He ain't getting out." He tried to sound confident but the words came out a little weak. Still smiling at the LAPD officer and his friend, Verone got up, his arm being bandaged and placed into a sling similar to the one Rome was wearing. Only this time, his right arm remained high due to the fact that both hands were cuffed tightly together. His blue eyes, colder and more feral than Brian's, continued to stare at them, that little smirk still present on his lips. "You think he gonna get out?"

Brian jumped off the wooden crates, still lightly smirking at Verone, knowing it would inwardly piss the man that the men who had captured him weren't dead yet. "He'll get out." And when he does, I'll be waiting. I won't lead Mia into danger. She's counting on me to set things straight. To bring Letty home. If he ever comes to LA, I'm putting a bullet in his skull.

The smile dropped from Rome's face, worry now filling it. "No, for real. You think he getting out, though?" He asked his friend as they walked across the open space where they were met by Bilkins and Monica Fuentes.

"We took care of your decoys." Bilkins started, referring to Tej Parker and Suki Avon as well as the other racers who had been caught during the mad scramble. "They're free and clear, including all of their outstanding tickets as a thank you for covering your crazy asses. There's a sedan out on the road for you with the keys in the ignition. Try to bring it back in one piece." Bilkins asked of them, knowing that putting these two men in cars was a bad idea.

Brian laughed lightly. "Yeah, we can do that. I think we had enough fun for the day. Thanks a lot, Bilkins. You're alright." He shook hands with the FBI agent.

"You know, if you went back to school and got your Bachelor's, you could apply to Quantico."

"What's Quantico?" Rome asked, eyebrows furrowing. He didn't know any state with a city named Quantico.

But Brian was already shaking his head. "Sorry but I don't think I want to be a federal agent. It's not for me." Understanding dawned on Rome's face but he kept quiet at Brian's response. He wasn't sure how he would have reacted if Brian went from being a local pig to a federal pig.

"If you're sure. You could be one of the best agents on the government's payroll."

"I'm sure. Thanks for looking out for us, man."

"Alright." Brian's eyes fell on the wrecked ship, the end of the silver Skyline sticking out of it. "Bilkins is there any way to keep the rides. After all, unlike the Spyder and the Evo, they're not government property."

Bilkins whistled lowly at the request. "You can keep the Charger as you won that on the streets. As for the Skyline, you fixed her up on the government's pay. She also belongs to the US government."

"What if I pay for it in cash? She's now a wreck after all." The undercarriage of the Skyline was probably totaled as well as all the nitrous lines after crash landing on the upper deck of Verone's boat but it could still be salvageable and Brian had to admit, he had fallen in love with the GTR. There's was something about the sleek lines that called to him, even more so than the green Mitsubishi or the orange Supra he had previously driven.

"If you have the cash, you can buy it after it's sent to the impound lot." Bilkins mused, having a feeling that O'Conner would be able to fork up the cash for the destroyed ride. "I'll alert the officers that you'll be picking it up."

"Thanks." Bilkins nodded at the officer before leaving to oversee the final preparations.

"So you trust me now?" Monica asked, looking directly at Rome as Bilkins walked away. Brian saw the little cut on her forehead had been tended to, the small amount of blood wiped away. She was pretty, Brian had to admit but he didn't want her.

"You a'ight."

Eyebrow raised, Monica shook hands with him, unintentionally grabbing his injured arm. "Oof."

"Sorry. Nice working with you, O'Conner." She said, shaking hands with Brian.

"Same here."

Tilting her head, Monica looked at Brian. "Do you think you I'd be able to change your mind in staying in Miami a little longer?"

A memory of Mia in a mechanic's shirt popped up in Brian's mind, the oil streak on her nose clear as well as her smile. He remembered how it felt to have Mia by his side, both of them slumbering quietly in bed. To him, a man who had never really found a place to call home in not only in his head but his heart as well, the feeling of content was something he wanted to feel again, no matter how hard it would be to recover it. "No, I'm sorry. I hope to have someone waiting for me in LA. If there's a chance, I can't let it go."

A sad smile appeared on Monica's face. "She's a lucky woman, then."

Brian shook his head. "I'm the lucky one." I just hope that I still have a chance with her.

"I guess this is goodbye then."

"It could be a see you later."

Monica nodded. "See you." She left, turning after a few yards to look at Brian one more time before disappearing into the crowd of law enforcement.

"So how long are we staying here, brah?" Rome asked as the two of them left before another agent or officer stopped them. Brian had enough of dealings with other agencies for a day. He needed a break before heading back home to the bullshit that was waiting for him the Metro Division.

"Just long enough to clean up the mess here and talk to Tej and the rest." Brian answered, eyeing the sedan that Bilkins had talked about. Compared to the cars the FBI had given them for the case, the sedan was as boring as any car could be. Standard tires, rims, seats, dark champagne in color. The complete opposite of the cars Brian and Rome had been driving only an hour ago on the streets of Miami.

"I still can't believe you talked me out of taking some of the money from those bags. I was hungry." Rome pointed behind him.

"If the circumstances had been different, I would have been there right along with you, making sure my pockets weren't empty, however, I'm still an officer of the law."

"Really? Your lily white ass would have been hiding some of them Ben Franklins?"

"Yup, but it's not that way. As I see it, I'm heading back to LA."

"Mm, if LA is anything like Miami, I'm a have to stay out there. Keep you out of trouble, brah." Brian shot a glance at him. "You know what I'm talking about." Brian let out a laugh, shaking his head.

"So, you're going to kick it out in LA, bro? Do you really think you handle it?"

"Oh, man, I could grow to love LA. After all, you need me to watch your back." Brian's laughter faded, remembering what was waiting for him back home. He sighed reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. Miraculously, through the crazy stunts he had pulled, the mobile was still intact.

"Hold on a sec. I got to make a phone call." Brian said. He stepped away from Rome, turning to look out on the Everglades as he called a number that he had burned into his brain for weeks. It rang a couple of times. He waited, nervously tapping a foot on the packed dirt. After what seemed like an eternity, the phone was picked up right before he was about leave a message.

"Mia, its Brian. Sorry for not keeping in contact but I've got a few things to tell you. . . ."

Spyridon: This chapter was near completion when I learned of Paul Walker's death last week. In the first couple of days, I debated whether or not to continue writing in this fandom as my favorite character was Brian O'Conner and always will be. Then I learned of Vin Diesel's quote regarding those who have left able to live on in the memories of those who still live. Along with Universal's plan to postpone production of "Fast and Furious 7", I have ultimately decided to stay in the fandom and continue writing, finishing my current projects as well as any smut pieces and futures ideas that hit me. In order to deal with the grief over hearing of his passing, I wrote the raw story 'Dreams We Had to Silence' to get those out and has since been posted. Though Paul Walker is gone, Brian O'Conner and any character he brought to life can continue to live on as long as the authors in those fandoms continue to write.

As stated earlier, I will soon be posting the reasons for the titles of the story chapters as I specifically choose them. That entry will be posted to my LiveJournal as it will contain an in-depth look behind the thought process that went into this particular arc. To give you a heads up, I will be posting a small one-shot titled "Transcending the Divide" that will bridge the gap between this story and the next which is called "Ten Double Zero" as it will give a look into Letty's choices after the LA operation as well as give an insight into the changes in the Miami case.

Though I have to say this: I hope the individuals who took parts from the Porsche should burn in hell for trying to steal pieces of the wreck as it was towed away.