Guldrin’s Gluttony: Family Bound by Speed & Food

Guldrin was deep in a hell of his own making. The night air was cool and crisp, but it did little to temper the heat of Letty's fury. 

Her voice was relentless, sharp as shattered glass, and layered with something far more unnerving than just anger, there was fear underneath. And fear, from Letty, was a rare and dangerous thing.

"Do you even understand what you did?" she demanded, her tone like a crack of thunder. "You went in alone, Guldrin. Alone. Against an entire cartel. Sure, you had Revy, the maid Alisa, and most likely Shiro, excluding Shiro, you've known them for, what, a week? And Revy, even I can see, she is the human embodiment of chaos!"

Her words struck like the snap of a whip. "What the hell were you thinking?! Do you have any idea how that could've ended?"

Guldrin opened his mouth, the instinct to defend himself sparking, but Letty wasn't about to let him off that easy. She was already in full momentum, and nothing was stopping her now.

"I'll tell you how it could've ended," she snapped before he could get a single word in. "You could've gotten yourself killed. Or worse. What if they took you? Do you know how many people get enslaved by the cartel? That means, no money, no food, no freedom, just labor, and with your looks, it could even be sexual!"

The last word hung there, charged and bitter. Her eyes bored into him, the weight of her emotions pressing down.

"For what? Because you lost your damn mind the second I wasn't in sight?"

The accusation hung heavy in the air. Her rage was palpable, a living, breathing thing coiled between them. 

Yet, even through the fury, there was a thin, fragile thread of vulnerability. She was scared out of her mind. And Letty didn't scare easily.

Guldrin knew better than to interrupt. 

His mind was already flashing back to the moment it had all begun. The second he realized Letty had been taken, something primal had snapped inside him. 

Yes, there had been strategy, he'd laid out a plan with precision and calculation. But beneath that plan had been something raw. Something desperate. An unyielding drive to bring her home. No matter what.

Maybe his bloodlines, maybe the new awakening, or maybe it was something else. He didn't know, but it was definitely something he needed to learn to control. He wouldn't say he did anything wrong, per se, but he could have utilized his connections more if he had kept a more level head.

"You're fifteen!" Letty's voice shot through his memories like a bullet, dragging him back to the present. "Fifteen, Guldrin! You don't get to act like some rogue vigilante on a revenge spree. That's not how this works. That's not what family is about."

Family. That word hit harder than anything else.

Because that was the truth of it, wasn't it? Everything he'd done, the risk, the chaos, the sheer madness of it all, had been for her. For the family, they'd built.

The silence that followed her outburst was suffocating, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down hard on both of them. Letty took a deep breath, the anger in her eyes still burning but flickering ever so slightly. And that's when Guldrin finally found his voice.

"You've been hiding things, Mom. Ever since Dad was forced to leave, you've had these late-night conversations with Brian, the very guy responsible for everything in the first place!" Guldrin's voice cracked, but the fury in it was undeniable. It wasn't just anger; it was betrayal, fear, and desperation wrapped into every syllable.

Letty's expression shifted, flickering between surprise and confusion. She opened her mouth to say something, but Guldrin barreled on.

"You trusted someone who betrayed us," he continued, his tone rising with every word. "Dad's gone, Uncle Vince had to flee to Mexico, Brian made his choice, and now he almost got you killed too! Do you get that? You could've been dead, Mom. They were going to kill you. And where the Hell was Brian? Why wasn't he here? Why was I the one to save you?"

Letty's mouth tightened. Guldrin didn't stop. "Where the fuck is he, Mom? Why isn't he storming the place with the cavalry? And if this was some kind of official operation, why am I not in cuffs right now? Where's the backup? Are you wired? Were we all just bait in some stupid bureaucratic game?"

The world around them felt like it had frozen in place. The open air of the desert seemed to close in, trapping them in this raw, unfiltered moment. 

Letty froze, her whole body going rigid as the weight of Guldrin's words settled over her. Her son, her headstrong, loyal son, had been through hell for her, and now he wasn't holding anything back.

The rawness in his voice hit her harder than any punch ever could. 

The rage and anguish weren't just over what had happened tonight. It was everything. Every lie, every secret, every moment of fear they'd endured since Dom disappeared.

For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved. The tension hung between them, thick and suffocating. Letty's grip on his arm finally loosened, and she took a step back. Her eyes softened, no longer filled with the sharpness of anger, but something far more painful.

"Brian's not responsible-" She stopped herself, swallowing hard. It was rare for Letty to be unsure of her words, but tonight was different. "I didn't know, Guldrin. I didn't know what else to do. Brian gave me hope, a hope that we could bring your dad back. I trusted him because I thought…"

Her voice trailed off. Letty wasn't the type to admit mistakes easily, but the vulnerability in her tone spoke volumes. She had made a choice, and now they were all living with the consequences.

Guldrin didn't push. He could see the cracks in her armor, the weight she carried every day for the family, for Dom, for him. 

But just because he understood didn't mean he was ready to forgive everything.

"You can't do that again, Mom," he said, his voice firm but not cruel. "You can't keep things from us like that. Not me, not Shiro, not Aunt Mia. If we're family, we're supposed to trust each other. And you didn't trust me."

Letty winced. She didn't need him to spell it out. The truth of it hurt more than anything.

"I was trying to protect you," she said finally.

"And I was trying to protect you!" Guldrin shot back, his frustration boiling over again. "That's what family does, right? Why can't you trust me more? You put all your trust in Brian, the guy who betrayed us, but not in Shiro and me? I bet Aunt Mia knew, didn't she? But where is she now? Call her! I bet she's with Brian. I bet he blew you off to be with her, and she doesn't even know it. He's a snake, Mom. A dirty snake!"

Letty's eyes narrowed as she studied him, searching his face like she was seeing him for the first time. He wasn't just a kid anymore. He had grown, too fast, maybe, but the loyalty and fire in him were undeniable.

"You're right," she admitted after a long, painful silence. "You're absolutely right. And I'm sorry."

Guldrin froze. Letty didn't apologize often, and when she did, it was always real. She wasn't the type to say things just to make him feel better. This was her owning up to her mistakes like she taught him.

"But you're not off the hook, kid," she added, and the fire in her eyes returned. "What you did was reckless as hell. You went in without a plan,"

"I had a plan." He shot back, but she wasn't hearing it.

"Without backup. And you're damn lucky you made it out alive. Next time, we do this as a family. Together. You could've called Aunt Mia, your big brother Jesse, or even your dad if you thought he'd answer. But you went in alone, without thinking."

"I wasn't alone," Guldrin muttered. "I had Revy and my maid Alisa with me."

Letty raised an eyebrow. "You knew those two for, what, a week? And you thought that was enough to take on an entire cartel? Don't make me laugh. You're smarter than that, Guldrin. You should've called for help. I taught you better than that. You can't do that kind of shit anymore. Got it?"

Guldrin's mouth opened to protest, but the weight of everything finally hit him. She was right, of course. Even if his heart had been in the right place, his actions had put all of them at risk from her perspective, even if he knew they would be safe, she didn't. The whole family could've been torn apart tonight because of one reckless decision from what she could see.

"I get it," he said finally. "I really do. But you have to promise me something too."

Letty folded her arms. "What?"

"No more secrets. No more Brian sneaking around. No more lies about what's really going on. If we're family, we do everything together."

For a moment, Letty didn't say anything. She just stared at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if weighing the gravity of everything they'd just shared. 

The street was eerily quiet now, save for the faint hum of faraway traffic and the rustle of wind through the nearby desert foliage. 

Guldrin's chest heaved with unspent adrenaline, and his fists clenched at his sides. He felt raw and exposed, like an open wound, but he didn't care. For once, the truth had come out. And it was about damn time.

Then, slowly, Letty nodded. "Okay. No more secrets. But you will have to explain everything you've been hiding, too. You want full disclosure? It isn't mutually exclusive. I will give you a pass on the supernatural bullshit, but everything else, you open up about it."

Guldrin blinked. That wasn't what he had expected to hear. He had been prepared for another lecture, more guilt, and maybe even another ear-pulling. 

But Letty sounded serious, calm, yet firm. 

There was no anger in her voice, just determination and acceptance.

He opened his mouth, not quite sure how to respond, but before he could even catch his breath or string together a coherent thought, the stillness shattered. A familiar roar erupted from the far end of the street. The deep, guttural growl of an engine being pushed beyond its limits filled the air, rattling the ground beneath their feet.

Guldrin's heart dropped. He knew that sound anywhere. It was the unmistakable thunder of his Chevelle SS.

"Revy." He growled,

Letty and Guldrin whipped around at the same time, just in time to see the beast come tearing through the area like it had been shot out of a cannon. 

Dust and gravel sprayed everywhere as the Chevelle skidded, its tires shrieking against the flattened ground in clear protest. 

The engine howled as an angry beast unleashed, and for a split second, the headlights caught their wide-eyed expressions in full detail.

"Revy!" Guldrin shouted, panic and frustration surging through him all at once. His mind raced through every possibility, none of them good. 

Revy behind the wheel of his car was a disaster waiting to happen. She drove like every street was a racetrack and every other driver was an obstacle to be demolished or ignored.

The window on the driver's side rolled down just enough for Revy to stick her head out, a wild grin plastered across her face. She threw up a lazy salute, one hand on the wheel. "Don't wait up!" she yelled, her voice carrying effortlessly over the roar of the engine.

And just like that, she and Alisa were gone, tires screeching, taillights fading into the darkness as she disappeared down the road at breakneck speed.

Guldrin groaned and buried his face in his hands. "She's gonna destroy it… Again" he muttered, his voice muffled but filled with dread. 

He imagined every dent, every scratch, every ruined tire that would come back as a souvenir of Revy's joyride.

Letty arched an eyebrow, clearly amused despite herself. Her lips twitched with the ghost of a smile, and for the first time that night, the weight of their earlier conversation seemed to lift just a little.

"Consider it part of your punishment," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Guldrin lowered his hands just enough to glare at her, though there wasn't much heat behind it. "Punishment? For what?"

"Details, details," Letty said with a shrug, clearly enjoying herself now.

Guldrin sighed again, this time with all the weariness of someone who knew he was beaten. "Well," he muttered, staring down the empty street where his car had disappeared. "I'm gonna have to do a lot of work to fix it, ain't I?"

 Letty chuckled. "Of course you will."

For a few moments, they stood there in silence. 

The tension that had filled the air earlier had dissolved into something lighter, easier. 

The weight of their shared anger and grief still lingered, but it didn't feel as heavy anymore. There was something about the absurdity of the situation, Revy taking off with the Chevelle like a bat out of hell, that made it hard to stay angry for long.

But as the echoes of Revy's engine faded into the night, Letty's smile softened, and her gaze found Guldrin again. 

There was something unspoken in her eyes, an apology, maybe, or just an acknowledgment.

"Hey," she said, nudging him gently with her elbow. "I'm serious about what I said earlier. No more secrets. I'll do better. I promise."

Guldrin looked at her for a long moment before nodding. "Me too. And… sorry for blowing up at you."

Letty snorted. "Don't get all soft on me now."

They both laughed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn't forced or strained. 

It was real.

Of course, the moment didn't last long. A distant, bone-chilling sound cut through the air, a loud, metallic crunch, followed by a high-pitched squeal.

Guldrin's eyes widened. "That better not have been-"

"Your car?" Letty finished for him, already pulling out her phone. "Let's hope not."

Guldrin groaned again, but this time, there was a hint of resignation in it. "She's never driving anything I own again."

"Good luck enforcing that," Letty said with a smirk.

Guldrin received a message on his phone, {Don't worry, it wasn't me crashing, that was someone else.} At least he didn't have to worry about his baby if what she said was true.

—

–

-

Meanwhile, the lovable yet formidable Archangel Gabriel, renowned as the strongest woman in Heaven, and her travel companion slash childcare guardian, Clara, made their way into the scorched remains of a parking garage. 

The site was a charred and crumbling skeleton of its former self, still radiating the remnants of violence and judgment. 

Dark soot covered every surface, broken glass glittered beneath the pale moonlight, and the air hung heavy with smoke and ash. 

It was here that Guldrin had dispatched Braga and his gang, leaving nothing but wreckage in his wake.

Gabriel's bright blonde hair shimmered faintly despite the gloom. She moved with a regal but deliberate grace, her eyes sharp as they scanned the scene. She wore an expression of both curiosity and something deeper, distaste, perhaps. 

Though typically cheerful and warm-hearted, Gabriel wasn't immune to the weight of sin when she encountered it, and here it was almost suffocating. 

Every step across the broken concrete seemed to pulse with the echoes of violence, regret, and judgment.

Clara trailed closely behind, ever watchful. 

She was just a simple church custodian before, but now she was branching out to the adult supervision of a scatterbrain Archangel; her eyes keen and thoughtful. Her dark hair was pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail, and despite the seriousness of their errand, she carried herself with an air of unwavering calm. 

Where Gabriel radiated celestial light and power, Clara was grounded, ever the steadying force ready to yank the reins if she went too far. 

Together, they were an unlikely but effective pair.

Gabriel stopped suddenly in the center of what used to be the garage's lower floor. She knelt, placing a gloved hand on the ground. A faint tremor coursed through the cement beneath her fingertips, and for a moment, she closed her eyes. The air around her shifted, charged with an unseen energy. When she opened her eyes again, they glowed with a subtle but unmistakable celestial light.

"He was clearly here," she said, her voice low and resonant. There was no doubt in her mind. The faint aura of a holy judgment lingered, its traces woven into the very fabric of the ruined space. 

"I can sense it, a holy aura of judgment. As if Father himself judged these sinners through him." She shivered slightly, though whether it was from the chill of the night or the weight of the divine presence, even she couldn't say. "This was no ordinary battle."

Clara watched silently for a moment before stepping forward. Her tone was neutral, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of concern. "Whatever happened here was final. Absolute."

Gabriel's gaze softened at Clara's words, but her thoughts remained focused. Without hesitation, she reached for a small, crystal-clear communicator tucked into the sleeve of her celestial robe. It was a direct link to the Heaven realm, a connection that could pierce dimensions with ease. She lifted it to her lips, and her next words carried the weight of authority and urgency.

"I need a status report," she said, her tone sharp. "Michael, have you received any new sinners in the past few hours?"

There was a pause, a long, tense silence, before the communicator crackled to life. The unmistakable androgynous voice of the Archangel Michael filled the air, his tone clipped and efficient. "Sister, you've got impeccable timing. We've just registered a large intake."

It was strange for an influx of souls to be sent to Hell without the use of Heaven's system, so he noticed this anomaly quite quickly.

"How many?" Gabriel pressed.

"At least fifteen," Michael replied. "All freshly sent to Hell. Heaven's system had no part in it."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed slightly. "And their fates?"

Michael's hesitation was brief but telling. "Three of them were sent to the deepest parts."

Clara's eyes widened. "The deepest parts?" she repeated, incredulous. "That's no small punishment."

Michael continued, "These souls were steeped in unforgivable sin. Their crimes and darkness were beyond redemption. Whoever passed judgment here knew exactly what they were doing. There's no hesitation in these types of decisions. They were precise and final."

Gabriel exhaled slowly, the weight of the revelation settling over her shoulders like a heavy, celestial cloak. 

The scene before her was charged with power, holy power, but not entirely refined. It felt raw, almost instinctual, as if whoever wielded it did so with purpose but without complete control. Her heart ached as a singular name formed on her lips. "Guldrin, my little brother… What are you doing?"

The name echoed softly in the stillness of the ruined parking garage. 

There was no mistaking it now. Only someone wielding the divine authority of her father, God himself, or an angel with the specific domain of judgment could have passed such an irrevocable fate onto the souls of the condemned. 

Yet this wasn't the work of any ordinary angel or divine emissary. This judgment carried something else. It was tinged with rebellion and pain, the hallmarks of a soul caught between worlds, neither fully divine nor fully mortal. And Gabriel knew of only one such soul who could bear that burden.

Her communicator crackled, pulling her from her thoughts. Michael's voice, steady and commanding, returned. "Is this the work of our wayward little brother that you're looking for?"

Gabriel sighed. "I do believe it's him."

Michael's tone shifted, there was a slight edge of curiosity, but also worry. "And how's that search coming along, by the way?"

Gabriel's brow furrowed as she knelt again to examine the faint scorch marks on the floor. The pattern was unmistakable, lines of divine energy intersecting in chaotic bursts. 

It looked almost like sigils, but they were incomplete, as if Guldrin had tried to channel judgment without fully understanding what he was doing. "I'm on his trail, but it's not easy. My holy domain can't trace him directly. Whatever force he's using… it's clouding his signature."

"And you're telling me this flare of judgment didn't tip you off sooner?"

"I only found this place because of it," she admitted. "His energy left a trace here, a lingering holy aura of judgment in the form of a scar. He may not realize how powerful he's become, but every time he makes a move like this, it's like setting off a beacon."

Michael's deep sigh was audible even through the communicator. "Gabriel, we're counting on you. Bring our little brother back."

The plea was simple, but the weight of it bore down on her. This wasn't just a mission for Heaven. It was personal. Guldrin was family, her little brother, a new miracle for heaven, an impossibility, something Heaven hasn't seen since their Father died. And now, the consequences were unraveling faster than anyone had anticipated.

"I'm trying, brother. I'm trying."

Clara, who had remained quiet up until now, finally broke her silence. "Gabriel, what's the plan? Are we tracking him down the hard way again, it hasn't worked well last time?"

Gabriel stood, brushing ash from her robes. "The hard way is all we have for now. He's not leaving clear footprints, but he's leaving echoes. And echoes, if loud enough, can be followed."

Clara folded her arms and gave her a lopsided smile. "So, we're chasing a divine echo. Sounds like a fun day."

Gabriel couldn't help but chuckle, even if the humor didn't reach her eyes. "It's what we do best, isn't it?"

Clara tilted her head, listening for any distant sounds of approaching humans, police, investigators, or curious onlookers. But the night remained eerily still. "We've got maybe ten minutes before someone shows up here. If this is a crime scene, the locals are going to swarm it."

Gabriel nodded. "Then we move fast."

The two of them began to scan the area more thoroughly, moving in tandem like two parts of a well-oiled machine. 

Clara focused on the physical evidence, the burned-out shells of vehicles, the scattered remains of what must have been Braga's gang's final moments, and the strange, spiraling scorch marks that Gabriel had already noticed. 

Gabriel, on the other hand, closed her eyes again and opened her senses to the celestial plane.

It was a dangerous thing to do, opening oneself up in a place of judgment. 

The echoes of sin and retribution could latch on like hooks, dragging an angel into a state of confusion or despair, some could have their minds broken, or even fall from grace. But Gabriel was strong, and more than that, she was determined. 

If Guldrin had left anything behind, a thread, a flicker of thought, even a whisper of regret, she would find it.

There. A pulse. Faint, but distinct.

Her eyes snapped open. "Clara. This way."

They moved toward the edge of the garage, where a crumbling wall overlooked the city below. The pulse of energy was stronger here, as if Guldrin had hesitated before leaving. Gabriel placed her hand on the wall, and for a brief moment, she could almost see him. A boy, young, defiant, but still filled with light. Yet now, there was something darker wrapped around him. A hunger. A yearning.

"Why are you running, Guldrin?" she murmured. "What are you so afraid of?"

Clara came to stand beside her. "You think he's afraid?"

Gabriel hesitated. "Yes. But not of us. He's afraid of himself."

The sirens were closer now. Time was running out.

—

–

-

Guldrin leaned back in the passenger seat of Letty's blacked-out 1970 Plymouth Road Runner as they sped down the open road. The wind whipped through the open windows, carrying the scent of asphalt and motor oil. 

The hum of the car's engine was hypnotic, vibrating through the seat and into his bones. Letty, ever the master behind the wheel, kept one hand lightly on the steering wheel, her eyes scanning the road ahead with a sharp, practiced focus.

The night had started out normally, or as normal as life could be when your family included street racers, hackers, and spies. They were heading home after a quick supply run, they needed gas, when Guldrin's phone buzzed in his pocket. The vibration was short and insistent, a coded signal for a priority call. 

He pulled the phone out and saw the name flash on the screen: General Beckman.

Letty noticed the shift in his posture immediately. "Who's that?" she asked without taking her eyes off the road.

"Beckman," Guldrin muttered. "... Someone I met a while ago."

He answered the call, keeping his tone casual despite the knot tightening in his stomach. 

"General," Guldrin spoke and had to cringe when he saw Letty's question expression.

On the other end of the line, General Diane Beckman's voice was clipped and serious. "Guldrin, we have a situation. Your name has been flagged in our system. Fulcrum has taken an interest in you."

Guldrin's brow furrowed. 

Fulcrum. 

The rogue espionage syndicate had been a thorn in the government's side for years. They were relentless, ruthless, and disturbingly good at finding and exploiting anyone with special talents. And Guldrin had plenty of talents that would interest them.

"What do you mean, flagged?" he asked, keeping his voice low so Letty wouldn't overhear too much. "I've been lying low."

"Doesn't matter. Someone high up must've connected some dots that they shouldn't have," Beckman replied. "We believe Fulcrum has learned about your… capabilities."

"Great," Guldrin muttered under his breath. His "specialty," as Beckman so delicately put it, made him a target, a prize Fulcrum would love to acquire and weaponize.

Imagine an unhinged Guldrin making guns, explosives, and tech of all shapes and sizes, all for the shadow government.

Not a good idea.

Beckman continued, her voice sharp with urgency. "It gets worse. We have reason to believe Fulcrum agents have already tried to make contact."

Guldrin thought back to earlier. "Yeah. I had a couple of suits show up at my shop. I didn't get to look at them before they met my lost big sister, Revy."

There was a pause on Beckman's end. "Revy? You mean that Revy?"

"The one and only. The one I told you about a few days ago."

Beckman sighed, the sound crackling through the line. "You're in danger, Guldrin. You need to go off the grid for a while."

"Noted," he said. He wasn't exactly new to the whole "lie low" routine, but something about the way Beckman was talking made him uneasy. "You think they'll come after me directly?"

"I'd bet on it," she said grimly. "They don't just give up."

"I don't understand what is going on, but, it sounds like my son is in danger… That is really all I need to know… Do you want me to pull him out of here?" Letty cut in, clearly listening despite pretending to focus on the road.

Guldrin covered the phone and shot her a look. "I got this."

"Do you?" Letty raised a brow. "Because I'm pretty sure this General doesn't call people for social chats."

"Let me handle it, Mom," he said, more firmly this time. He turned his attention back to the call. "You offering me a protection unit, General?"

"I can have one on standby within the hour," she confirmed.

He didn't even have to think about it. "No, thanks. I don't do babysitters."

"I figured you'd say that," Beckman said, her tone both exasperated and oddly fond. She didn't speak, but she thought to herself, 'But I'm assigning one anyway. They'll be discreet.'

"Where will you be going?"

"Not telling you that, General."

There was a long pause. "Be smart about this, Young Goldblood."

"I always am. And I am a Toretto as much as I am a Goldblood, if not more."

Beckman's sigh was barely audible. "Fine. But keep in touch. Use the secure line."

"Will do," Guldrin said. "And thanks for the heads-up."

"Stay safe, kid."

Guldrin leaned back in the passenger seat of Letty's roaring 1970 Plymouth Road Runner. The hum of the engine filled the space between them, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He had just hung up the phone, but his hand still gripped it tightly. The name "Fulcrum" buzzed in his head like a wasp trapped in a jar. 

Letty had noticed the call the moment it came in. Her sharp eyes had flicked to him, the way they always did when something felt off. And now, with the call over, she was watching him from the corner of her eye as she expertly handled the wheel. "Gonna tell me what that was about?" she asked, her tone calm but laced with a quiet demand. "No more secrets, right?"

Guldrin sighed. "That, uh, mother, was Brigadier General Diane Beckman."

Letty arched a brow. "A general? A real one… Calling you?"

"Yeah. She's someone I met a while ago," he began, leaning forward to adjust the air vent, though he wasn't really paying attention to the airflow. "We crossed paths when I… created something. A piece of tech that she was very interested in."

"Define 'interested,'" Letty pressed.

"She wanted it. Badly," Guldrin said with a smirk. "So, I made a deal with her. I gave her the blueprint and the manufacturing method, only to her, not the government. And in return, I get a kickback from every sale."

Letty whistled low. "You've been making deals with generals behind our backs?"

"It wasn't like I went looking for it," Guldrin said defensively, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His tone carried just enough bite to make it clear he was done justifying himself. "You told me to be independent, remember? Well, the opportunity kind of… found me."

While not completely true, it wasn't a lie either.

Letty, hands gripping the wheel of her roaring Road Runner, didn't look the least bit appeased. Her jaw tightened, and her dark eyes stayed laser-focused on the road ahead, though Guldrin could practically feel her irritation radiating off her.

"And now what?" she pressed, her tone sharp. "She's calling because of Fulcrum? What is that?"

Guldrin sighed. There was no way to sugarcoat this. "Fulcrum," he began slowly, "is… bad news. Think CIA-level operatives gone rogue. They're not just any ragtag group, they're organized, well-funded, and absolutely ruthless. Their whole M.O. is gathering intel and selling it to the highest bidder… Maybe taking over the world… Not sure... And if they're interested in someone? They don't stop until they either recruit them or eliminate them."

Letty's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "And they're after you. Great."

"Yeah," Guldrin muttered. "Not the best situation."

The silence stretched as Letty processed the information. She wasn't one to panic, but the intensity behind her eyes was unmistakable. 

She was calculating, thinking several steps ahead, like she always did when things got real.

"You know, I should be chewing you out right now," she said finally, her voice flat but steely. "Because somehow, despite everything, you've found a way to get on the radar of one of the most dangerous groups in existence. But… For now, that can be placed on the back burner, getting out of the country seems like priority number one."

Guldrin raised a brow. "Wait, leave the country? So really decided to do what I suggested."

"Mexico, I agree," Letty said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Vince is down there. He's got a place. It's not exactly a five-star resort, but it's secure, off the grid, and Fulcrum won't find you easily. Who goes to the slums of Mexico? It is the perfect cover, at least till we figure out something else."

He frowned. "You've been in touch with Uncle Vince? How come all I get is a few postcards?"

"Occasionally," she admitted with a shrug. "He's… Vince. Same old stubborn jackass, but he's family. And he didn't even have a phone till I bought one and mailed it to him. Took him three days just to figure out how to turn it on."

Guldrin chuckled at the mental image, but the humor was short-lived. Mexico? It was his idea, true. And Uncle Vince was the perfect person to help them lie low. 

Vince was rough around the edges, always had been, but when it came to disappearing or staying under the radar, there was no one better. Still, the thought of leaving L.A. tied his stomach into knots. 

His shop, his tools, his projects, all of it felt like a world he'd be leaving behind. His mind kept flashing through images of the garage. The sounds of engines revving, the smell of oil and rubber, the connections he'd worked so hard to build. 

Everything he'd poured himself into would be out of reach.

"You're serious about this?" he asked, his voice laced with hesitation.

"Dead serious," Letty said, not breaking stride. Her eyes stayed locked on the road, and her expression was one of iron determination. "It's not just about you, Son. Dom's been out there too long. He needs a home again. A real one."

There was a pause. Then she added, "We could even bring Skye if she agrees. I know you and Shiro have basically adopted her."

Guldrin swallowed hard. She wasn't wrong. Skye had become part of their odd, thrown-together family. She'd been through a lot too, and if anyone needed a fresh start, it was her. But he didn't say anything, just stared out the passenger-side window, watching the darkened streets blur past.

Letty's mind was a storm of thoughts, all running parallel but never quite colliding. Seeing Vince again... Giving Dom a place to call home again... Those were her priorities. She had no illusions about Vince. 

He could be stubborn, infuriating, even reckless at times, but there was no denying his loyalty. He'd do anything for them, and that's what they needed now, someone who'd hold the line no matter what.

Then there was Mia. Sweet, dependable Mia, who'd stayed behind and held down the fort while everyone else scattered. Mia never complained, and never asked for anything in return. 

She just kept the family tethered together, no matter how far apart they drifted. 

Letty didn't think Mia would say no to the plan. If anything, Mia might be relieved to have everyone under one roof again, even if that roof was across the border.

The kids, Guldrin, Shiro, and now Skye, were a whole different story. 

They were wild cards, each one more unpredictable than the next. Letty didn't even want to imagine how much money the three probably had squirreled away. 

They were clever. 

Too clever, if she was being honest. 

She wasn't sure how they'd react to leaving L.A., but something told her they'd adjust. They always did.

And then there was Brian. That was a sore spot. Guldrin had made some offhand comment about him blowing her off to pine after Mia, and it had hit Letty harder than she cared to admit. 

If that was true, if he'd really just brushed her aside, then Letty had every intention of cutting all ties. And Mia? She deserved to know the truth. Letty wasn't one to let things slide, and this was no different. She needed answers, and she'd get them, one way or another.

"We'll call Vince," Letty said aloud, her voice firm with determination but carrying that edge of frustration that always seemed to surface when Vince's name came up. 

It wasn't that she didn't trust him, Vince was family, and in their world, family was non-negotiable, but he could be as unpredictable as he was loyal. 

That kind of stubbornness could be either a lifesaver or a liability, depending on the day. She continued, more to herself than anyone, "Then Jesse. Mia's gotta be looped in too."

Guldrin sat silently in the passenger seat. He didn't need to say anything for Letty to know he had a thousand thoughts bouncing around his head. 

He just gave a slow nod, the weight of the situation reflected in his eyes. Leaving L.A. wasn't easy for him, she knew that. His shop was his sanctuary, filled with the smell of grease and gasoline, a place where time didn't exist once he lost himself in the hum of engines. 

Walking away from that, even for a little while, would feel like abandoning a piece of himself.

Letty stole a glance at him. "And you're not off the hook, by the way."

"Figured as much," he muttered. His tone was somewhere between resignation and amusement. 

That was typical Guldrin, he could feel the weight of the world pressing down but still find a way to crack a joke. Letty appreciated that about him, even if she didn't always show it.

The road ahead stretched out like an endless ribbon, long and winding, with nothing but darkness ahead. It wasn't just the physical distance that lay between them and Mexico, it was everything else, too. The choices they'd made, the lives they'd lived, and the ghosts they'd tried to leave behind. 

Letty's foot stayed firm on the gas pedal, the car's engine purring like a caged beast beneath them. The sound filled the space between them, drowning out any lingering doubts or second thoughts.

But one thought remained sharp in Letty's mind: Brian. Guldrin had been right to bring him up earlier. 

Brian was supposed to be part of the operation, he'd promised Letty he'd be there for support. And yet, something had felt off for weeks. He'd become more distant, less reliable, and every time she tried to pin him down, he gave some excuse about work. Letty wasn't one to let things slide, especially when trust was on the line.

Letty flicked through her contacts, her thumb moving with the precision of someone who had lived too many lives on the edge. Each swipe was as automatic as downshifting before a tight corner. Years of late-night crisis calls had turned scrolling into an art form. 

When she landed on Mia's number, she hesitated for a fraction of a second. That hesitation was like a pebble caught in her boot, a small annoyance that could grow into something dangerous. She ignored it and hit the call button, holding the phone to her ear.

The phone rang once. Letty's grip tightened on the steering wheel. It rang a second time. Her jaw clenched. By the third ring, her pulse was thumping in her ears. If Mia didn't answer soon, Letty's brain would fill in the blanks with scenarios that were only half-grounded in reality. And those scenarios? They weren't pretty. 

Brian had pulled too many stunts, and the idea that he might be feeding them lies again made her stomach churn.

Finally, the line clicked.

"Hey, Letty. What's going on?" Mia's voice sounded casual, but Letty could hear the underlying tension. It was a tone she recognized, one born from years of living on the edge of secrets and danger.

Letty didn't waste time on pleasantries. "I just need to know, Brian's not with you, is he? And before you answer, think hard. Has he been making advances on you since Dom had to leave because of him?"

There was a pause. A pause so long, Letty could have driven from Los Angeles to the state line. When Mia finally spoke, her voice was carefully measured.

"Letty, you know I wouldn't lie to you. He did show up at the house early this morning."

Letty felt the temperature in the car drop about ten degrees.

"I rejected him," Mia continued. "He came on strong, too strong. I told him it wasn't happening. He left. Or so I thought."

Letty's knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel. The dim streetlights overhead blurred into streaks as she drove, her mind firing on all cylinders. This was anger, the slow-burning kind that ignited deep in her core. She couldn't afford any distractions, not now. "Go on."

"Later that night, I ran into him again," Mia admitted. "He tried pushing the same agenda. I shut him down. He didn't take no for an answer."

Letty's foot pressed just a little harder on the gas. Her Road Runner roared in response, vibrating with pent-up power. "What did he do, Mia?"

"We ended up grabbing a bite to eat," Mia said reluctantly. "He was persistent, but I didn't give in. After dinner, we separated."

Letty sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, forcing herself not to lose control. 

Her instincts were to explode, slam her fist through the steering wheel, or punch through a wall. But rage wasn't going to solve anything right now. 

It was a liability, and Letty was nothing if not a survivor. "Separated how? Did he follow you home?"

"No. I made sure of it."

"Good." Letty's grip on the wheel loosened just a fraction, enough to allow her mind to work. She exhaled slowly, measured, like she was about to cross a finish line with everything on the line. "Brian was supposed to be supporting the operation tonight. I don't know what the hell he's playing at, but we need to talk."

Mia's silence on the other end of the line was deafening. Letty knew her well enough to read between the lines. Mia wasn't scared, but she was worried, worried about herself and her family, for Dom, for the tangled mess their lives had become since Brian had shown up with his too-good-to-be-true grin and vague excuses.

"I'm serious, Mia. Meet me at the shop. Bring everything you need for a long trip. We're going to figure this out."

The tension simmered just beneath the surface as Letty ended the call. She'd been around the block too many times not to know when something was off. And everything about this stunk like yesterday's garbage. 

She trusted Mia, but Brian? Brian had been a wildcard from the beginning. Dom had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Letty's instincts told her otherwise. There was always something slippery about him, like a wolf trying too hard to look like a golden retriever. Not to mention all the times Guldrin's instincts told screamed at him, and he informed them of his feelings.

The shop came into view, its neon-lit sign glowing dimly against the dark skyline. Letty pulled into the lot, gravel crunching under her tires as she parked near the entrance. She stepped out of the car, the night air cool but doing nothing to extinguish the fire burning inside her. It was quiet, too quiet for her taste. Normally, the garage felt alive, an extension of their family's pulse. But tonight, the shadows stretched too long, the silence too heavy.

Mia pulled in a few minutes later in her car. Letty watched as her sister-in-law stepped out, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Her face was set in that determined expression Letty knew all too well. Whatever had happened with Brian had shaken her, but Mia wasn't the type to break.

"Got everything?" Letty asked, nodding toward the bag.

"Yeah," Mia said. "Clothes, phone chargers, cash, the essentials."

They stepped inside the shop together. The familiar smell of motor oil and steel filled the air, a comforting constant in an otherwise chaotic night. 

Letty flicked on the overhead lights, illuminating the tools scattered across the workbenches and the cars lined up like sleeping beasts. It should have felt like home. Instead, it felt like a war zone waiting to ignite as she looked at Shiro, Skye, Revy, and Alisa sitting there, waiting.

(Sorry about not uploading, life has been hectic, this is a hobby, and when life comes, I must answer the call… But things should slow down soon, soonish? Not sure, but thanks for reading and supporting me.)

(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)