5 Years

by kanezra26695, SergeantDecember

Summary:

It's been 5 years since the events of Joy Ride, and Lewis (now Brian) has all but moved on. But when Jesse innocently brings a CB radio into the garage, Brian has to battle increasingly heightened panic attacks, and past memories that keep resurfacing no matter how hard he tries to push them down.

Notes:

I understand this isn't the best yet, so forgive me for any mistakes. I do not have a beta.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or plot of either Fast and Furious or Joy Ride! Anything you recognize is not mine!

P.S: Radio speak is in italics, and so are Brian's thoughts. I apologize if the characters seem OOC. Let me know if I should continue this!
:}{:

Chapter 1

The last thing Brian expected when he walked into the garage? Seeing Jesse playing around with a CB radio.

"Yo Brian! Check this out." He pressed the button down. "This is Rotten Tomato looking for any reports of a bear on highway 98 east?"

Brian's shoulders tensed, but he plastered a smile on his face. That was five years ago, Brian, get it together!

"Copy that, Rotten Tomato. No bear sighted, you are clear," a voice responds through the radio. Jesse grins.

"Sick, isn't it? Found it in the junkyard, a little beat up. I managed to fix it, though! I hooked it up to a car battery, so it's mostly portable. We could use it at races, to check for cops!" His voice is hyped up, excited. He's proud of himself. Brian grins and pats him on the back.

"Awesome, Jess! That's really smart." His voice thankfullt doesn't betray just how frazzled his nerves are. Ever since the incident he can't stand radios of any type. But this is the present. He is Brian O'Connor, and damn if a little radio is going to fuck with his headspace.

He picks up a wrench and slids under the Supra, trying to get lost in the mechanics.

~~~

Walking into the garage, once again, the first thing he hears. "This is Rotten Tomato, looking for any crashes or wrecks on Highway 83, westbound. Need immediate response,"

"Copy that, Rotten Tomato. No reported wrecks westbound."

Brian tries to ignore the radio chatter and walks over to Letty, who is cursing violently over her Challenger. "Need some help?" He asks, and her head jerks up.

"I'm good, Arizona. Think I just need a minute. Been staring at exhaust pipes so damn long they all look warped to shit. Give me a hand out?" She grabs his extended hand and rolls out from under the car. She stands, dusting herself off.

"Yo Letty! Wanna play a prank?" Jesse asks mischieviously. Letty chuckles, walking over. "Damn, you really like that thing, mad scientist." She ruffles his hair playfully and sits next to him.

"Buster, make yourself useful and hold this radiater in place," Vince calls, rather grudgingly. He hates asking Brian for anything, still believing him to be a cop.

That honestly might have been preferable. Maybe then I could've saved Venna. Saved Fuller. He pulls himself out of his thoughts. Get it together, O'Connor! He walks over and holds the radiator up, so that Vince can get underneath it. He rolls under and quickly starts unbolting it.

Last week, Dom and Vince been test driving the Supra when the hood started smoking. They pulled over, popped the hood, and got a face full of steam. Turns out the radiator had a massive leak, and they were actively leaking coolant.

They quickly get it unbolted, and lower it to the ground.

"Damn thing went bad," Vince mutters, examining it. Brian nods. "Dom already ordered a new one, Harry should have gotten the shipment by now."

"Well, I've got to go help Leon, so why don't you go get it?" Vince suggests, in almost a taunting way. Brian can feel the flare of his long buried temper, but he quickly shoves it back down, and nods.

"Copy that," he mutters, grabbing his jacket. Just be thankful they don't ask why you long wear long shit, he thinks, pulling it over his long sleeved black shirt and jumping in Harry's truck.

~~~

He returns to the garage, the new radiator box tucked under an arm. Voices are raised in laughter, and as he passes the threshold, he notices that Vince, Letty, and Jesse are crowded around the CB radio. But the thing that made him stop in his tracks?

 

Letty has a hold on the mic piece, and is talking into it in a sweet voice, very unlike her normal, tomboyish alto.

"Well, I'm lonely. Would you keep me company, Mr. Trucker man?"  Brian's blood ran cold. He barely managed to stop himself from running over there and yanking the mic from her hands, smashing the thing with a sledgehammer, and throwing it in the incinerator.
It's not their fault, they couldn't possibly know just how dangerous what they are doing is. He walks in as calmly as he can, and sets the radiator down. His shoulders are tensed up and all of his senses are screaming for him to run as fast as he can, get far, far away from here.

"Well, you sound mightly pretty, princess. What's your name?" A raspy voice comes from the radio. A bone chillingly familiar voice. Vince snorts. "Fucking perv."

"I'm Candy, Mr. Trucker," Letty responds in that same sickeningly sweet voice. Brian is standing there, frozen, unable to even move to stop her.

A chuckle from the radio. "I knew a Candy Cane once. Wasn't very nice. In fact, isn't Candy Cane in the garage with you right now? Say hi, Candy Cane. It's only polite."

Jesse looks confused. "What the hell does that mean? How does he even know we're in a garage?" He looks around frantically, and nearly jumps out of his seat when he sees Brian. "Damn, you scared the shit outta me, Brian!" He exclaims. Brian doesn't respond, his eyes fixed on the radio.

"C'mon, Lewis. Don't be shy. Fuller certainly wasn't, I remember. If only he had just apologized when I gave you the chance. Maybe he'd still be with us. Oh wait, you don't go by Lewis anymore, do you?" Vince looks up at Brian, and jumps up.

"What the fuck is he talking about, cop? You are a fucking cop, I knew it! I fucking knew it," he yells, about to throw a punch at Brian, until he noticed the look on his face. Brian, normally the snowman, always cool tempered, looked ready to kill someone.

"Where are you, Candy Cane? Or maybe we could talk about poor Venna. Waited for her knight in shining armor, but he was in the back, holding his brother's lifeless body. Right, Lewis? Or should I say Brian?"

Letty and Jesse look up. "What does that mean, Arizona? What the fuck does that mean? This some sort of prank?"

Brian walks forward and picks up the mic. "I'm going to kill you, you son of a bitch," he whispers.

The trucker chuckles over the radio. "There she is, my Candy Cane. I hope you've been getting my presents. I'll admit, it's been hard tracking you down. First Ronnie Knight, then Avery Woods, Gerald Thompson, Brian Spilner, and now Brian O'Connor. 5 names for 5 years."

"You're a fucking murderer. You killed that man at the hotel, then at the diner, and then the second motel. You killed Charlotte, Venna, Fuller. What more do you want? We were kids. Kids playing a stupid prank on a roadtrip."

Letty and Jesse stare at Brian in shock. Vince looks horrified. You mean, a prank like we were just pulling?" Jesse whispers.

"You embarrassed me. Humilated me. You killed those people. You killed Charlotte. You killed Venna. And you killed Fuller. You killed your own brother, Lewis. What an awful person you are. A man in Wyoming is still in a coma, missing his jaw, because of you. It was all your fault, Lewis. You're the murderer."

"So why didn't you kill me? Why did you kill Fuller? He was just a kid. I let him convince me to play a stupid prank. It was me. Why kill Venna? Why kill Charlotte? What, guilty by association? They were innocent. Innocent lives you stole. What do you want from me, Rusty Nail? What the fuck do you want?"

Silence for a long moment. "Candy Cane." The radio goes silent, and Brian drops the mic, leaning against the wall and sliding down. He buries his head in his knees.

 

Fuck

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Notes:

I wasn't going to continue this, but I saw that someone reviewed and that pushed me to update! So many thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own TFatF or Joy Ride

   Suddenly everything is black. His ears are ringing, and he’s sucked into a memory.

An innocent one, compared to the rest.

“No one ever said freshman year'd go by so fast.” Her voice. Even after so many damn years, he remembered it clear as day.

“At least Colorado has seasons. Berkeley's like summer all year.” He was lounging, hands behind his head.

“Yeah. It's late. I'm not keeping you on the phone, am I?” Her voice, sweet as honey, had a hint of guilt in it.

“No. No, not at all. So, what's, um-- You know, what's David doing this summer?” He asks, almost reluctantly, but he manages to disguise that.

“I don't know. Who cares?” Lewis nearly fell off of the couch.

“What?”

“Sorry. I didn't tell you before. I just... felt a little strange, you know?” What does that mean?

“You what-- I don't understand.”

“We broke up. He-- He's been acting serious and weird.” They broke up? They were really serious though. Lewis felt a sliver of thrill, and hope. His crush was single. But wait. He has to be the supportive best friend.

“Serious and weird, how? He was getting all serious and weird?” His roommate sits up, suddenly awake and looking annoyed, and clicks on his lamp.

“I mean I-- I told you what he was like, and–” She scoffs.

“Wait, hold on,” his roommate looks pissed.

“Lewis, it's 3:00 in the morning. I got a final tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be quieter.” Lewis throws him his MP3 player and headphones. The roommate rolls his eyes, but puts them on.

“Lewis?” She asks.

“I'm sorry. So, what happened?”

“He kept... looking at me, as if, you know... he totally thought that he knew me... which he so obviously didn't. And he started crying. Which sort of sealed the deal, you know?”

“You made him cry?”

“I broke up with him. Wouldn't you cry?” He chuckles.

“Listen, Venna, you're cute, but you're not that cute.”

She laughs lightly. “I was kidding.”

“Well, I'm not in the mood to go home. Wish I had a car, then I could... just get there gradually. Decompress a little bit, you know? If you had a car, you could stop by Colorado and pick me up. We could have an adventure. The two of us and a windshield.” He sits up and pulls open his bedside table, pulling out a plane ticket. From LA to Newark.

“I have a car.”

“No, you don’t,” her voice is light, teasing.

“Yeah. Didn't I tell you?”

“No!”

“Yeah, well, like, I got one.” His smirk transforms into a full-on grin.

~~~

The memory ends just as abruptly as it started.

He’s not Lewis anymore, he’s Brian. He is pulled out by a voice, familiar and deep. It’s Dom.

“O’Connor, you okay?” He sounds concerned.

Brian reluctantly lifts his head, the light streaming into his eyes.

Letty, Jesse, and Vince are still around the table, staring at him, worry in their eyes. Leon is right behind Vince, grease still smeared all over his arms.

Mia and Dom are crouched in front of him. That’s when he realizes that he’s slumped against the wall, in the fetal position. Mia looks apprehensive, a hand waving in front of his eyes.

“Can you hear me?” She asks softly. He nods.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He mutters, going to stand up, but Dom puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“No, sit back down. We need an explanation, O’Connor. I run in here to screaming, and find you keeled over on the ground. They were all yelling about the radio and fucking candy canes?” Mia elbows Dom in the side.

“Take it easy. What happened, Brian?”

Vince scoffs. “That even your name? That fucking trucker kept calling you Lewis. You’re a fucking cop, aren’t you?” Leon puts a hand on his arm.

“Chill man.” He mutters. Letty folds her arms.

“Tell me that was a prank, Arizona, because that was fucked up. Why the hell was he calling you Lewis? Who the hell is Candy Cane?” He scrubs a hand down his face.

“When I was a freshman in college, I did something really fucking stupid. I had a crush on my best friend, so I bought a car. 1971 Chrysler Newport. $1100 bucks. But then my brother got arrested for a drunk and disorderly in Salt Lake City, so I had to go pick him up, and then I got pulled over for a broken taillight and-” Dom cuts him off.

"Slow the fuck down, buster. Slow way down. Start from the beginning. Who is Lewis?”

Brian meets his eyes, an almost desperate look in his own.

“That was my name. Lewis Thomas. Born to Maria and Donald Thomas. My little brother was Fuller. Damn troublemaker, he was.” He laughs once, an empty sound with no real humor.

Leon speaks up. “Then what the fuck is going on? Why is your name different? And what happened to Fuller, Brian? The trucker, I heard him say-”

“Fuller is dead, Leon. We did something stupid, to the wrong person. And he paid the price. All because I wouldn’t just put my foot down and tell him no.”

“What happened?” Vince asked, unease filling his voice.

 

“That trucker, Rusty Nail? He killed Fuller.”

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Notes:

Thank you everyone who has taken the time to read and review this fic, it means the world to me!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize, meaning The Fast and The Furious, Joy Ride, either movie's characters or plot, or any of the story taken from Joy Ride.
Please remember I have no beta, and any mistakes are my own :)

Enjoy!

“Hold up, that-that trucker on the radio, he killed your brother? ” Jesse asked, sounding shocked.

 

“How did-how did you meet this trucker, Arizona?” Letty asked, eyeing the radio warily. Brian winces, clenching his eyes shut to block off the memories. But they will not be silenced. He pulls out a cigarette, even though Mia scowls at him. He stands and lights it, leaning against the wall. Taking a lungful, it clears his mind a little.

 

“It all started when I bought my first car. I had a plane ticket to go home for the break. I sold it, and bought a used car,” he begins. “I planned to pick up my friend. Her name was Venna. She had just broken up with David, her boyfriend. She was talking about a road trip, just the two of us. That’s what pushed me to do it. $1100 for a vintage 1971 Chrysler Newport. It had a broken taillight.” He chuckles once, a harsh sound.

 

“Called my mom, to let her know I was changing the plans, that I was gonna drive back with Venna instead of flying. She told me that Fuller had been arrested again. A drunk and disorderly. She and Dad were gonna leave him, let him learn from his mistakes. He’d always been the delinquent. Always at odds with our Dad.”

 

Vince snorts. “Let me guess, you were the perfect child. All A’s, perfect attendance, Mama’s boy huh?” Brian stiffened at that nickname. 

 

Fuller picks up the mic to the newly installed CB radio. That Lewis didn’t give him permission to install. Lewis glances over and glares at him. Fuller takes no notice, and adapts a fake southern accent.

 

“Breaker one-nine, breaker one-nine. We need a westbound, come on. You got Black Sheep here ridin' front door with... uh, Mama's Boy.  We're barrelin' down on ol' Eye-8-Oh east away, just wonderin'... - if you could see any bears from your rockin'chair, over.” Lewis chuckles a little, but scowls at him. What the fuck kinda name is Mama’s boy?

 

“Roger, you got a 40-mile clear shot, 'cept for Jamestown. Got yourself a Kojak with a Kodak at 1-8-5. ” Fuller grins and 

 

“All right, no cops till Jamestown. Free to speed like a motherfucker for like the next 40 miles or so.” Lewis rolls his eyes, unconsciously speeding up by a fraction. He can’t help but grin.

 

Brian shakes off the memory. “Yeah, you could say that.” he mutters. Vince frowns a little, he’d meant to cheer the buster up. Even though he was sure that he’s a cop, he’s not a complete asshole. From what he could tell, the buster had lost his brother. A trucker had murdered him? That’s fucked up.

 

Brian takes a drag from his cigarette, and continues. “I got pulled over on the way to Salt Lake City, to pick him up. Cop gave me a ticket for the taillight, and sent me on my way.”

 

Lewis signs his name on the sheet. In the background, he hears his brother. That he hadn’t seen for years. 

“Look, I'm aware of how frustrating... the prison system in this country must be for you. Repeat offenders, the unrehabilitated-- I watch American justice, with your host, Bill Kurtis. But I'm different. I'm reformed. You know, I'm strong. I'm-- Officer Wilkins, this is my-- Listen, this is my pledge to you. You will not be seeing me again. Two strikes are enough for Fuller Thomas.” 

 

Lewis looks up to where the officer is rolling his eyes heavily at Fuller as he unbuckles the handcuffs. He signs another paper, this one a check. For Fuller’s bail. As the officer walks away, Fuller notices Lewis.

 

“Hey,” he calls. They walk towards each other. Fuller looks shocked. Out of anyone he’d expected to pick him up, it hadn’t been his brother. 

 

“Hey.” he says again, quieter. “You look... tall. Taller than me.”

 

Lewis smirks. “That’s typically what happens. I’m older, hence the height. How’s it goin’?” Fuller chuckles.

 

“Well, a lot better now.” They grasp hands and hug, grinning.

 

“Kid. Good to see you.” Lewis mutters.

 

“You came all the way to Salt Lake just for me?”

Lewis rolls his eyes. “Well, technically, you are still my brother.” Fuller snickered, and turned to a drunk man cuffed to the seat next to him.

 

“Hey, this is my brother.” He turns back to Lewis. “I can't get-- Look at you, man” he clasped Lewis on the back of his neck. The woman at the front desk calls.

“Mr. Thomas!”

Fuller ignores her. “Thank you for coming.” Fuller says quietly. Lewis nods.

 

“Thank you,” Fuller squeezes Lewis’s cheeks, saying it again in a babyish voice. Lewis playfully pushes him off. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

They walk toward the front desk, and Fuller signs out. Lewis runs a hand through his hair.

 

“Listen, I'm supposed to be picking up a friend. - And I'm running kind of late, so–”

 

“Uh-huh?” Fuller mutters absentmindedly. 

 

“I just, uh, well, I just wanted to see how you're doin'... and take you wherever it was you needed to go... because I sorta need to hit the road.”

 

“Yeah, where are you goin'?” Fuller asks. Lewis sighs.

 

“Um, Boulder, Colorado…- and then I'm goin' home.” Fuller grabs the bag of stuff they’d confiscated when he came in and turns to Lewis.

 

“Oh, perfect. - Yeah, that's great!” Fuller starts to walk away. Lewis follows.

 “Wait, what?” He asks, confused. 

 

In the car, Lewis driving.

 

“With the exception of the seatspring piercin'my ass... this ride's excellent.” Fuller asks, his arm on the open window. “So, uh, who's this friend you're pickin' up?” He begins picking through the glovebox.

 

“Her name is Venna. She's a friend of mine from back home.” Fuller turns to him.

 

“Wait, the blinker? That girl from the Heights? The one who was like–” Fuller rapidly fluttered his eyelashes, blinking quickly. “All day long?” He laughs.

 

“No, she's not like that all day. You haven't seen her in years.”

 

“Oh, okay. You're fuckin' her?” Lewis scoffs. Fuller throws his hands up.

 

“Well, what question's more legit than that?”

 

“We're just friends, okay?” 

 

“Okay, you're not fucking her. But you want to.” Lewis rolls his eyes.

 

“You don't know what you're talking about.” Lewis mutters, annoyed. Fuller smirks.

 

“Oh, I don't? I don't know what I'm talking about? All right, here's how it is: Um, she's always dated guys from the right side of the 'burbs. You were always left on the sidelines. You get your scholarship to Berkeley.  She's off to the University of Colorado. Right?”

 

Lewis looks towards him and shakes his head. “You don't understand.” 

 

“You guys have been talking on the phone alot... and now she realizes that you have the warm fuzzies for each other. You're not lettin' on, even though you scrambled and bought this car... just to pick her up. No, you're still playing the neutered boy "friend"... who's like, always there for her... because you're nice– Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing? Whoa, whoa!”

 

Lewis swerves the car into the dirt on the sides of the road. His jaw is clenched, and he’s definitely pissed. Fuller doesn’t take the hint, staring straight ahead.

 

“So, you're still good, or need me to drive, or–” Lewis cuts him off.

 

“No more bullshit small talk. About me, my relationships, or my car.” His voice is low, and he’s breathing deeply. Trying not to snap at Fuller. He wisely doesn’t push it.

 

 

“Okay.” Fuller mutters.