by
DevilChild
Fandom: The Fast and The Furious
Rating: For Mature Readers
Pairing: Dom/Bri; Bri/Mia
Author's Note: A TF&TF High School AU inspired by an onlist challange. Thanks to Dawn and Bone for the beta. Thanks to Khal for additional helpful commentary.
Copyright and Disclaimer: The Fast and The Furious and the characters from it are creations of Gary Scott Thompson, Eric Bergquist, and David Ayer. I make no claims their ownership or creation. This bit of not for profit modern folklore (thank you Prof. Jenkins) is mine.
Thanksgiving dawned cool and cloudy. As Brian bundled pie stuff into a bag, his mother asked, "Sweetie, why are you up so early?"
"Mia thinks it would work best if we baked the pies before they put birdzilla in the oven. Besides, if I'm going to chow down with them, it'd be kind of nice if I help them mash the potatoes and stuff."
His mother smiled a bit thinly and said, "Well, just let me know how it turns out."
"It's pumpkin pie, Mom. Not chemistry." As an afterthought he added, "Your hair looks nice." She had had it specially done the other day. Brian didn't think it was anything that Miss Clairol couldn't do, but he wasn't going to say so.
The only people up at the Toretto house were Dom and Nick. Dom didn't say anything as he poured coffee in a travel cup.
"Where you going so all fired early?" Nick asked.
Oh shit. So, Dom hadn't talked about going to Chino with his dad. Brian's stomach tied itself in knots.
"Nothing big. Brian and I just got an errand to run. A favor for a friend."
"Dinner is at three."
Dom gave a lopsided smile, "Like two guys like us are going to miss food."
Nick laughed. "No, I swear you guys have hollow legs or something." He waived them on.
From the look on Dom's face as they got on the I-10, Brian could see that Dom had something big on his mind and really didn't feel like talking. Fine with Brian, because he had what seemed like nine million things buzzing through his brain, not the least of which was the trip to Mulholland, plus he felt completely amped about seeing Rome , and Brian knew that if he started talking, he wouldn't stop until he had completely emptied his brain.
As they hit the 71, Dom opened up. "After my mom died, I did two years in Juvie."
Brian choked on his coke.
"Yeah," Dom continued, turning the stereo off, his voice barely audible above the hum of the engine. "Assault."
Brian looked at him. He had zero idea what to say, or if he should say anything at all.
"My dad and Mia coming to see me, it meant everything."
"You did time in Chino ?"
"No, Chino 's for older offenders. I got sent to Stockton . The California Youth Authority is like a fucking industry up there."
"Dom, what happened -- I mean, I understand if it's none of my damn business."
"After my mom died, I was just so angry," Dom said. "Dad meant well, but he was just so busy working the store and taking odd mechanic jobs to pay the bills and make ends meet. He didn't want to lose the house.
"And Mia, well, Mia's always been the good girl, but everybody was just like 'Oh, poor Mia, she just lost her mother, that's so hard for a girl her age' and nobody had a damn thing to say to me. Everybody just seemed to think that I was fine. That I could suck all that shit up no problem. By the time my dad began to realize that something was wrong, I was primed and ready to blow.
"So, I'm down at the track with Dad one day, in the pit, and I had done something stupid, and Dad had just ripped me a new one. And I'm going to the porta potties, and there's this kid, Kenny Linder. I had never gotten along with him." Dom took a deep breath, his hands clenched the steering wheel. "I was walking by and he said something about my mom. I should have let it go. I should have fucking let it go ...
"But I didn't. There was a tool chest right there and I picked up this wrench, a big one, like 19mm, or something, and I just fucking beat him senseless," Dom finished in a rush.
"Shit ..." Brian breathed.
"Yeah," Dom said bitterly. "So on top of the hospital bills, and the house, and all the other day to day costs of having kids and a business, there's now all the shit with court and Kenny's bills.
"I really, really fucked him up. I don't think I was whaling on him for more than 30 seconds, but he almost lost an eye, and his coordination and balance ... he needs a cane to walk now." Dom took his eyes from the road for a moment, his gaze drilling into Brian. "It's why I never let anything get me really mad, ever. I get really mad and I can hurt someone real bad.
"And jail?" Dom swallowed hard. "I'll die before I go back. I'll fucking die before I go back, Brian."
In an effort to lighten it up, Brian shrugged half heartedly and said, "And here you are taking me to Chino ."
"That's different," Dom rasped. "Visits from Dad and Mia are what kept me human. It's ... you have to be hard to survive, and you're so scared and lonely. But every month Dad and Mia came for me. That -- and there was this one guy who worked there. He was different. He didn't talk at you. He just listened. Helped me a lot."
~oo(0)oo~
Seething mad, Brian slammed into the bench next to Dom. It turned out that minors, if they were not family, were not allowed contact with inmates of a CYA facility unless accompanied by a family member.
Well, didn't that just fucking beat all.
The guard behind the desk was nice about it, but firm. The rules were the rules and her hands were tied.
In a shaking voice, Brian explained the situation to Dom, doubly pissed that Dom had driven him all the way out here for nothing. Dom took it stoically and sighed. As they stood to go, Dom seemed to notice something interesting on the "Pictures of your CYA Staff" board. Clapping his hand on Brian's shoulder, he guided him back to the desk.
"Ma'am, is Warden Clark in today?"
She shrugged. "For a few hours. Why?"
"Could I possibly speak with him?"
The guard sighed and said, "He really doesn't have a lot of time. His schedule's usually pretty tight and I think he wanted to work on a few projects undisturbed."
In an earnest voice Dom said, "Ma'am, I got to know him a few years back up at Stockton . I just -- he made a huge difference in my life. Got me turned the right way. Can you please just see? I want to touch base and pay my respects is all."
Something about the seriousness of Dom's plea made the guard visibly soften. Her brow furrowed in thought, and with a shrug, she relented and picked up the phone. "Sir? There's a young man named --"
"Dominic Toretto"
"-- Dominic Toretto here to see you. Thinks you might remember him from Stockton . Sure. Yes. Yes, sir." The guard hung up the phone and said to them, "He'll meet you over by those doors in about five minutes."
A middle aged, slightly balding man with a graying moustache appeared at the door a few minutes later. His face brightened with a look of recognition when he caught sight of Dom.
"Hey, Mr. Clark!" Dom beamed, holding out his hand.
Mr. Clark ducked around it and instead pulled Dom into a backslapping bear hug. Stepping back, he looked Dom up and down and said, "You've grown, Dominic."
"Yeah, Mr. C, that happened -- just like you said it would, though I'm no b-baller." Pause. "I wrestle."
"Do you now? What brings you out here?"
"Brian and I," Dom nodded over at Brian, who smiled and held out his hand "drove over to visit a friend of his, thought he might want to see someone from the old neighborhood, but ..." Dom shrugged eloquently. "Then as we were going, I saw your picture on the wall, and thought I'd ask if you were here today."
"You always did have uncanny luck, Dominic. I was about to leave for home. Why don't both of you come on up and we'll talk."
Brian trailed a few feet behind them as they walked down a featureless hallway, his Chucks squeaking a bit on the well polished (and well worn) linoleum. He didn't understand how anybody could stand to work here. It seemed so cold, so colorless. There were no posters, no bulletin boards, just bare walls and old flooring.
They took a short elevator ride to the administration wing. Plusher, but still impersonal. Too neat drawings on the walls. Excruciatingly PC upbeat posters extolling the virtues of books and learning and the arts.
Dan Clark's office, thank goodness, was not impersonal. Brian had to give him that. Plants. A battered, much loved Jimi Hendrix poster. Model cars. A well worn couch. The books in the bookcase were a hodgepodge that looked like they'd actually been read and were chosen because Mr. Clark liked them, not because he wanted to impress anybody.
"How's school, Dominic?" Mr. Clark asked, as they both settled into the chairs in front of his desk.
Dom snorted. "Call me Dom. It's okay. I keep my grades good enough to wrestle. Mia, she's the smart one. Brian, too. It's why they get on so well. Always studying together."
"Any chance of a scholarship?" Mr. Clark kept his voice neutral.
With a groan Dom said, "Yeah, I get hassled all the time. I'm a really good wrestler, but, let me be honest. I don't really like school. I get by. When I graduate, I'll get a job."
"So, no interest in giving college a try?" Again, the voice was neutral.
"Nope. Not unless there's a four year program that will let me wrestle and get a Honda certification."
Mr. Clark snorted.
"Yeah, I didn't think so."
Mr. Clark smiled and nodded, "So long as you genuinely like what you do, Dom. Depending on how good you really are, there could be a lot of pressure on you to go to college. Just so you know. Just be really careful if you sign anything."
"I know, I know. There's been some college coaches by. I haven't signed anything."
Mr. Clark nodded and shifted his attention to Brian. "You say a friend of yours is here?"
"Yes. I was hoping to visit him. His name is Roman Pearce."
With a heavy sigh Mr. Clark buried his face in his hands for a few moments, causing Brian's heart to sink. Then he said, "So, if you're good friends with Dom and his sister and live in LA, how do you know Pearce?"
"I grew up in Barstow ," Brian replied, and quickly told Mr. Clark the rest of the story.
When he finished, there was a long pause while Mr. Clark finished spindling a paper clip. "You know that you can't visit Mr. Pearce. It's a CYA reg, and there's no way around that." Mr. Clark leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and smiled. "However, the young man knows the rules, but the old man knows how to sneak around them.
"I've been meaning to have a 15 minute attitude adjustment session with Mr. Pearce." He picked up the phone.
~oo(0)oo~
He's changed, Brian thought the moment a guard escorted Rome into the room. Rome strutted in a way that was hard somehow. Because he kept his eyes riveted on Mr. Clark from the moment the door opened, he didn't see Brian and Dom sitting on the couch against the wall opposite the desk.
"What 'chu want, Clark ?" Rome all but snarled.
"Six weeks paid vacation in the Virgin islands and a blow job from J-Lo. Turn around, Pearce."
Sulkily Rome began his turn and the instant he caught sight of Brian the look on his face snapped from one of sullen anger to delighted surprise. "Bri-an!" he shouted, holding out his cuffed hands.
" Rome !" Brian leapt from the couch and launched himself at his best friend, nearly knocking him into the desk.
Rome snorted, "Damn, I know I'm fine, but restrain yourself, whiteboy."
Brian pffft'd and whapped him in the head. "You earned that," he said when Rome threw him a chagrined look in reply. "How are you?"
"Fine -- who's this?" Rome looked over at Dom, sitting on the couch.
"My friend Dom."
"Okay."
As he looked at the glances that passed between Rome and Dom, Brian had no idea how or why, but it had taken them about .005 seconds to look at each other, size each other up, and decide to not like each other. It made the rest of the visit, short as it was, tense somehow, even though Brian and Rome spent all of it jabbering, catching up, and even laughing a few times.
And why, as Rome said, "See you next time, coz!" did it some how feel like good-bye?
(Because the Rome you knew has changed. The Rome you knew doesn't exist anymore.)
Try as he might, Brian couldn't get that niggling little voice of doubt to go away.
~oo(0)oo~
"I'm sorry about your friend," Dom said as they pulled out of the parking lot.
Somehow, having Dom try to be nice and understanding just put Brian on edge, so he nodded and said, "If it's cool, I don't want to talk about Rome right now. I'm still trying to ... digest, I guess, the way he's different now."
"It's totally cool. We'll go home, watch football, and a few minutes before dinner you'll help Mia and me beat up potatoes."
Brian smiled weakly. Dom gave his shoulder a squeeze. "How are you on that footage?"
"It's coming along. We should have enough in a week or two."Last Updated: 5//14/09