Deckard

16.

Family, never friends.

The weight in his hand felt heavier than it should have been as he climbed up the stairs. His loud, fatigued, footfalls echoed off the stairwell as he climbed higher and higher. His eyes dazed and unfocused as he reached the last few steps. His heart aching as he pushed open the door, blinking at the sudden brightness of the sun as he stepped out from the shadows.

The sun, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes from poor sleep. He was surprised how he hadn't collapsed from sleep deprivation the past few days. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He wouldn't listen- to any of his family that tried to get something, anything, from him about what was wrong.

What had happened.

"What the hell happened to him," Little Nobody whispered to his mentor, Mr.Nobody. Nobody just shook his head, praying he would take the hint and keep his mouth shut.

Leave the grieving man be.

Deckard ignored the stares. The surprised glances when the rest took notice to how worn and defeated he looked. Deckard was always someone who held his head high. A Bulldog marching his way purposefully to get what he wants. Yet here he was, looking smaller than a JackRussel as he moved towards Toretto. Placing the small child down delicately. Staring at the now waking boy who reminded him so much of his late son.

Of everyone, he had lost.

If he had his wife by his side, he might have enjoyed the once familiar routine of waking up in the night to settle a crying little boy. Maybe not his baby, but the small presence against his chest and the warmth the little boy was something he had missed. Watching the rise and fall of his tiny chest as he slept was something he often did for hours, with Oliver tucked up in his arms. The way his son would crawl over to find him so he could snuggle into the crook of his neck when he got grumpy because he was tired. Something he longed to have again.

But only with his wife.

With Megan.

"Toretto," Deckard grunted. His voice rough and defeated as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He'd be all alone after this. Toretto's kid had kept him somewhat occupied. But now the silence in that empty house back in Northumberland, England, was daunting. "What made you think I'd do it?"

Toretto looked at Deckard.
Really looked.
He understood.

Had been there when Letty was gone. The indescribable agony that is left in the gaping hole where a heart used to be. He only hoped he could somehow help the grieving man. He didn't know who he'd lost, but he would always be in debt to Deckard for saving his son so he hoped he and his own family could be there for the Britsh man.

"Brotherhood. I saw that look you gave Cipher, knew you wanted revenge. But that's not what you want anymore. Who was it?" Toretto saw the pained look in Deckard's eyes. Knew whoever he had lost, was someone he was struggling to live, to breathe, without.

"Someone that should be here," Deckard smiled sadly as he looked out into the sun that cast orange bursts of light across the New York skyline. He reminisced on that sunset evening they had shared in the hotel before everything had been ripped away from him. Before the plane. How the sun had made her skin shine brighter than any star and lit a fire deep in her eyes as she had shouted at him for being so reckless. Illuminated the passion she had for adventure and the wicked mind she executed when she went after something she desired. For putting her through this pain for only a fraction of a second when Toretto shot the blanks at him. 

She always said payback was a bítch.

"I can't believe you went to see my mother," Deckard tried changing the conversation and distracting himself from where his mind was wandering to.

Toretto, thankfully, noticed his need to change the conversation. Instead, bending down to pick up the little bundle of smiling joy. "All this fuss over you,"

Deckard had to look away painfully when the small boy was reunited with his father. He so desperately wanted to leave this happy family. Everything reminding him of the two most important people he'd lost. Grabbing a chilling Corona, Deckard snuck into the shadows whilst the large family gathered around the table. A large spread of food on the large table as Toretto introduced every to his son. To Brian.

It was easy enough for Deckard to sneak out when everyone was busy fussing over Brian. Or so he thought.

"Hey, tea and crumpets," Deckard couldn't rise to the taunt Hobbs threw his way. Instead, turning around, shoulders slumped as he motioned with his hand for the large man to continue, "Any news on Megan? She took off after you pulled your little stunt and Nobody can't put eyes on her. Not even Gods eye,"

Hobbs noticed the way Deckard changed as he spoke That he became more tense and rigid. As if it was taking everything in his power to not fall apart right there. And that was when Hobbs realised who Deckard was grieving for. His voice quieter as he sighed, "She's dead isn't she,"

Even though the spitfire had wound him up and made it her duty to throw an insult his way whenever she could, whilst stuck in that black-site prison, he had grown to like her as an estranged friend.

"Yes! Yes! Megan is gone!" Deckard eventually exploded. Both men grateful they had moved away from the rooftop, both grateful that no one was around to see such a strong man lay himself down as he tried to stop everything from falling apart, "Never, contact me again. I want nothing to do with you or your little crew. I work alone. I work alone for a reason!"

With that, Deckard stormed out of the stairwell they were stood in. Hobbs eyebrows raising in shock when Deckard pushed the front door open, the light catching on the silver ring that sat on his left hand as he moved out into the bustling street of New York.

It was then that Hobbs realised, just what this had all cost Deckard.