Deckard

29.

Fiafia

After everything had calmed a little, and the visitors had introduced themselves, everyone set off in the back of trucks to the Wearhouse a few miles West of the home. Just as Megan had stated earlier. 

The large Wearhouse having brought a small smile to her face as she observed just how fascinating the body works were of all the cars and motorbikes that were being made here. The familiarity of the workshop seemed to calm her racing mind that was forming plans after plans about how to defend the island that she knew would be a war zone in a few hours. 

"You okay?" Deckard whispered into her ear as he took her hand in his as they walked at a slower pace than the others. To everyone else, it just looked like they wanted to stroll along together and see the workshop. But to them, they knew it was because of the agony Megan was in from all the exertion she'd done the past few days. It had been the most she'd done since her accident and she was begging to regret tagging along. 

It even hurt to breathe. 

"No," she whispered. Stopping in their tracks as Deckard pulled her into the shadows and pulled her close. Holding her head against his shoulder with a hand on the back of her clammy neck and another around her shoulders as she tried to relax into him. He could see just how tired she was. How much stress all of this was putting on her.

"I just want to go home," Her voice cracked as she laced her arms around Deckard and pulled him close. Breathing him in as he held her close and kissed the top of her head, "I've had enough of this," 

Shutting her eyes as tightly as she could, she griped on to Deckard as if he could scare away all her demons, all her pains and terrors. She knew he could protect her from anything. Everything except her own mind as it began bubbling like a volcano.

"We're nearly done," Deckard whispered, stroking her hair as he held her in his strong arms, "When this is all over, I'm going to take you to Portugal. Where no one will find us and it'll just be you and me. None of this apocalyptic craziness. And Hobbs nor Toretto can't find us to drag us into their shít show again."

He licks his lips as he mumbles against her hair, "I'll retire,"

"NO!" Her head had shot up so quickly she almost gave him whiplash. 

"Yes," he placed his fingers under her chin to look into her fawn eyes to show her just how serious he was, "You mean more to me than any job Megan. I don't want to be spending weeks away from you anymore, especially when this has only proven that you're out of the game now."

He traced her cheeks with his thumbs as he rested his forehead against hers, "I'm gonna retire with you, spend the rest of my life growing old with you by my side. I worry about you too much to let you out of my sight, Megan. Bloody hell, we'll even get a dog... and we could try again," 

Her breath caught in her throat.

She knew exactly what he meant and it made her heart squeeze in agony. She longed for that. That small family that both she and Deckard had tasted a few years ago. Longed for something to try and ease the pain they both felt. Both of them knowing that if one of them was still parading around on the black sites for hire that the paradise they wanted could never happen. The family they both dreamed of wouldn't happen. 

And here Deckard was. Willing to put down everything he knew because he wanted everything just as much as she did. 

She burst into tears.

The Megan Turner Shaw burst into tears. 

Held her husband as close as she could against her chest as she dipped her head into the crook of his neck and bawled her eyes out. 

Deckard gently soothing her and rubbing his hand up her back as, he too, sniffled into her ear and he kissed her temple gently as he clung to tightly onto her too. He hadn't realised just how much they both needed to hear that until the words had come tumbling from his lips. 

Lips that Megan now crushed her own soft lips against. 

Caressing his stubbled jaw in her hands as she kissed him. 

Feeling his calloused hands against her damp cheeks as he kissed her back. 

"I love you," she whispered against his plump lips.

"I love you more," he smiled back,

"Impossible," she beamed through her tears as she pulled him into another hug, resting her head against his clavicle and breathing him in. 

This was paradise. 

Being in her husband's arms, she didn't care where they were. As long as she was in his arms, she was content. 

○•○▪︎○•○

"Found some clothes," Megan smiled at her husband as she patted the sandy Labrador on his head as he rested his head against her thigh as she walked. He had been following her around, and she didn't protest against the shadow that was behind her every step. 

The dog had even got a small scratch behind his ear from Deckard as they raided some cupboards looking for something to change into. 

Megan raised an eyebrow as Deckard pulled a small vest from the locker that would be tight on him as he motioned that it would fit Hobbs. 

"Are you serious?" She smirked as she packed all the clothes they had collected into a bag and took Deckard's hand as they began wandering in search for the rest of the group in the large Wearhouse. 

Both of them admiring the handiwork on the vehicles that were spread throughout the workshop. Noting designs or small tuning ideas that they hadn't thought to use yet on their own collection of cars. 

"Here," Deckard announces their presence to the group as they step out from between the mass piles of spanners and engines that were being tuned around them, throwing the bag to his little sister, "Found some clothes to change into,"

"Your mum says you might want to wear this. Must be your favourite size-"

"Spray-on," Megan purred. Her signature smirk gracing her face as she waltzed over and took Hattie's hand and took her sister-in-law to get changed and have a look for weapons. 

Her worries and emotions tucked away neatly behind the passive mask that she wore. Only Deckard able to see what she was truly feeling behind her facadé. 

"You got any weapons?" Deckard asks as he shrugs out of his jacket.

"Oh, we've got weapons," Hobbs smiles as he walks the trio of Shaw's over to a wall, where he revealed a hidden panel. 

An empty panel. 

"Mama, where's all our guns?" Hobbs sighs.

Hattie hiding her smile into Megan's shoulder and Deckard rolling his eyes.

"I got rid of them," Sefina smiled,

"Very noble, Mrs. Hobbs," Deckard smiled as he squeezes Megan's hand in his before turning to the two most important women in his life, apart from his own mother, 

"We're in some serious trouble,"

"That is an understatement," Hattie agrees.

Megan only chuckles as she removes her hand from her husbands and begins waltzing of into the sun to find the small selected weapons she had smuggled into the country in her backpack that still sat in the back of the truck, "Well that was a bit anti-climatic, Hobbs" 

"She has a very bold personality," Jonah mentions as he watches the brunette move off into the shadows silently. Somewhat scared of her and her bluntness, especially after having had a gun drawn to his head by the small woman.

"Bold personality, we all know that means,"  Hattie chuckles as she moves off to see what they could do to fix the machine that should save her life, "She's a bitch,"