Title: I'm the lie living for you

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence; some dialogue taken directly from the film

Warnings: AU, violence

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 7475

Point of view: third

Note: I know it's spelled O'Conner but I hate that spelling. I also made up last names for the characters without them in the films.

Another note: I have ideas for a continuation into the second film, where things would go way AU.

When they ran together in a pack of two, safely ensconced inside Rome's ma's pack, Rome and Brian fought like cats and dogs – which makes sense, because Rome other half is a coyote and Brian's is a goddamned mountain lion. He got it from his father, according to his mom, because there's no 'shifter in her family. But the bastard up and left when Brian was still just toddling around, without even telling her that Brian was a cub, too.

Brian didn't talk about it much, but Rome could smell the same thing he did, and Brian's mom was washing her hands of him steadily, every time he got into trouble - and with Rome at his side, watching his back, Brian got into a lot of trouble. His mom was done after his second stint in juvie, so Brian went home with Rome, and Rome's ma didn't exactly welcome him, but she made sure he was safe.

In Barstow, most every 'shifter was a wolf or in Rome's ma's pack of coyotes and jackals. There were a couple of cats, too, the small kind - Brian was the biggest thing, and he always smelled slightly off, even compared to the small cats. The wolves didn't like him for it, but every time the younger ones tried to make trouble, Rome was there, and where Rome (son of the alpha) went, so did the rest of Aunt Constance's pack.

Brian was Rome's pack, until he wasn't. If he'd known, though - if he'd known the cops were about to bust Rome, he'd have told him. Warned him. Helped get rid of the evidence, or run with him - that's what pack did.

But he didn't know. And Rome was busted, locked away in the shifter-proof cells. Without Rome, Barstow wasn't home, and without Rome as his pack, Barstow wasn't safe.

"I understand," Rome's ma told him, "but I can't forgive."

He tried telling Rome, but Rome wouldn't listen for years, so Brian transferred to LA without a pack, without back-up. Cougars were solitary, anyway.

...

Most shifters who join law enforcement are canines of some sort, usually wolves since wolves are by far the most common of all shifters. Avians are getting rarer altogether, and the few who remain are entirely insular. There are way fewer felines than canines, and felines usually stick to themselves, too. Of the rest – well, they don't advertise. No one's really sure how many are out there, or what they are.

Brian's not the only feline shifter at his precinct and his direct superiors are the only humans who know what he is. If they dug into his record, they'd find it – you don't have to admit in the private sector if you're a shifter (not since the civil rights movement) but if you work for the government, you do. All the shifters know, of course. He couldn't hide it if he tried, and why would he?

Well, they know he's a cat of some kind, and they know he doesn't back down at all when they try to intimidate him. It's a lesson the wolves back home learned, too: Brian O'Connor does not flinch or shy away. He can be beaten but he won't break or beg. If their other halves want to go for his throat, he'll fight till he's dead.

Of course, they're all law officials, so it never goes past a little light hazing. They're supposed to keep the other world under wraps as much as possible, and try not to involve humans in their quarrels.

Brian's popular with the humans on the force because he's friendly, affable, charming. The other felines stay close out of solidarity and because the canines snarl at them, too. But when they're on duty, if they need back-up, the canines are there - canines are pack animals, after all.

…

The movies always make it either more romantic or more terrifying than it really is. Brian's least favorite are probably the romantic comedies where each shifter has a soulmate somewhere, waiting to catch their scent. He can ignore the horror films where out-of-control shifters are the villains, always put down by either a heroic shifter or heroic humans because he knows the cat is part of him, not something other that takes over. Humans don't get it – can't, probably.

He's never bothered explaining it to a human because he's had Rome his whole life, and Rome knows just as well as he does. Humans have feared shifters because of their other half, always scared the animal would take over, would bite and turn innocents into monsters. It doesn't work like that, not that Brian's ever bothered explaining that to someone with the prejudice, either. You're born a shifter or you're not, everything else is just a load of crap, probably used a long time ago to keep enemies and neighbors in line.

Fat lot of good it does shifters today, though.

Some shifters go through life pretending to be human. Brian knows that's what his mom wanted him to do. When he was a kid, he'd spend days as a cub, learning his territory with the cougar's senses. Those senses are diluted in human form but still better. He'd wander the house smelling, shoving his whiskers around, learning the house probably better than Mom ever knew it.

Brian has never advertised his other half but he's also never hidden it. Maybe it's because of Rome's ma, his siblings and cousins, the pack he and Rome made within Aunt Constance's pack, the way everyone was both themselves and their other halves – but he is the cougar and the cougar is him, and he doesn't need a pack anymore. Doesn't want one, either.

(The thing Brian O'Connor does best is lie, and he lies to himself the best of all.)

…

Brian is sent under for the truck hijackings because the only thing everyone agrees on is that the drivers must be shifters because of the precision required to pull it off. There are a few crews on the radar but them being shifters is not enough to pull them in for questioning, and even if it were, it'd be a tip-off that would send the smart ones running and piss the dumb ones off.

When he was a kid, Brian did a lot of stupid shit, all of it with Rome at his side. They only got caught because of their big mouths – when they were behind the wheel, they were unstoppable. They could read each other's minds: in movies, it's romanticized as the pack connection, but that's as much bullshit as soulmates. It was just how well they knew each other. How much they trusted each other.

Brian didn't turn on Rome and Rome didn't turn on Brian, and they both did their time and got out on their eighteenth birthdays. Brian went on to become a cop; Rome didn't.

But these guys hijacking trucks, he knows they must be shifters because they drive like him and Rome. Humans could learn the precision, given time and practice, but the reflexes? Those can't be learned. Those are innate.

The FBI marches in on a bright Monday morning and order that every shifter capable of driving a car present themselves. Two FBI agents are already prepped in case no one in LA is able –

But Sergeant Tanner just sighs and looks at Brian.

There's a debate, of course. Not every wolf becomes a cop but if a wolf starts slinking around after the 'jackings? Yeah, it's suspicious. There's also the fact that wolves are far more territorial against wolves than anything else. There's a few foxes on the force, a lone osprey, half a dozen cats, most of them small. And then, of course, there's Brian, who once boosted cars for the sheer thrill of it.

The Feds offer him a Detective badge if he breaks the case. "So what are you?" Agent Bilkins asks like he doesn't know, didn't know every shifter before he set foot in LA. Besides the two possible UCs they brought with them, none of the Feds are shifters.

Brian grins at him, wide and sharp. "Puma," he says, meeting Bilkins' gaze. He's not the first to look away.

…

There's the Trans, a wolf pack that definitely has ties to organized crime. The Toretto pack, also wolves. A few others, but not as good as the Trans and Toretto packs. The Trans won't let him close, so Brian focuses on the Torettos. He gets set up at a local CI's garage and wanders into the Toretto's corner grocery store for lunch every day for almost a month.

He clocks most of the pack there at one time or another: Leon Williams, Jesse Herbert, Vincent Johnson, Leticia Ortiz, and then both Toretto siblings, Dominic and Mia. They're all recorded as wolves, but it must have been a human who marked it, probably based on Dominic, the clear alpha. He's on public record as a wolf because of the conviction that sent him to Lompoc for two years, to the shifter part of the prison. But Williams and Herbert aren't wolves – hell, Williams isn't even a shifter, he's a goddamned human.

Which means Brian's got a shot of getting in.

...

The only one of them ever alone is the alpha's sister, Mia, when she's working at the shop. So he stops in every day for lunch and is friendly, charming. Just a guy.

Wolves are the easiest to tell, shifter to shifter. It's an unmistakable scent, common enough that every shifter knows it. Canines have a particular smell, just like felines, avians, and all the rest do. So he'd know Mia was a wolf even without the records, but all she knows is that he's a cat of some kind.

Picking tuna every day is just a joke. He knows it's working when on the seventh day, Mia Toretto says, "It's funny 'cause you're a cat, right?" setting the sandwich in front of him.

He smiles up at her, keeping his lips pressed together, before saying, "Somethin' like that."

...

Mia softens more towards him every day. Sometimes, Toretto is in the back room and Brian has to split his attention, part on Mia but most on her brother. There's nothing suspicious about a business owner working on paperwork.

He likes Mia. The fact that a girl like her is still hanging around means the Toretto pack can't be all bad, despite Johnson's unpleasant attitude.

Every day for three weeks, and Johnson's temper gets shorter, his annoyance turning to anger, all of it focused on Brian and his ten minute visits on his lunch break from Harry's garage.

And Brian just smiles, lips closed, until the day Johnson storms after him, spoiling for a fight.

They have to know he's a cat. Probably think he's a small one, like Herbert probably is. He could shift, go for the throat, but that'll just have the entire pack after him. So as long as Johnson stays human, Brian will, and they tussle like kids in the schoolyard.

Brian learned to fight against jackals and coyotes, against wolf cubs that became wolves as they all grew. But he brawls with Johnson like he learned in juvie, keeping his audience in mind the whole time, and he ifeels/i when Johnson's alpha decides to get involved because two of his pack have asked him to, Ortiz and Mia.

The thing about Brian is that he doesn't back down, no matter who's baring teeth at him. He meets Toretto's gaze straight on, Toretto's pack surrounding them, and says, "He came at me."

Toretto demands Brian's wallet from Herbert and Brian's in, even if known of them know it yet.

…

Brian Earl Spilner is the only child of Earl and Jean Spilner, from Tucson. He was constantly in trouble as a kid, an uncontrollable little shit without the proper supervision a high-speed child needs, so he turned into a surly teenager looking for trouble. Jean Spilner was the daughter of a feline shifter (which parent, she didn't know) and Earl was the son of a caninie and a feline. It was practically guaranteed their child would be a feline, and so he was.

Jean Spilner tried to drown her cat with pills; Earl drowned his with booze. Their son learned about his other half completely on his own. Brian Earl Spilner grew up without a pack. He got his GED in juvie and didn't bother with college. He drifted below the radar till he wound up in LA.

His driver's license says he's feline. It's the law. He knows they'll check him out and that he needs to make a favorable impression the second go round.

The shop is their territory. The garage. The racing scene itself. Anyone's welcome if they prove themselves, shifters and humans mingling. No one cares so long as you're good.

Brian Earl Spilner is good, but not enough to win. Not yet.

So he doesn't.

…

Brian Earl Spilner has all of Brian James O'Connor's best qualities and none of his worst.

…

Brian loses to Toretto, coming in second and grinning the moment he's out of the car, adrenaline still racing through him. The last time he felt such a rush, he'd taken a weekend for himself, months ago, now, gone out to the mountains and let his other half roam. He'd missed Rome tumbling beside him, yammering on in coyote, missed bowling him over with one big paw, missed Rome jumping onto his back and trying to wrestle him down, missed Rome's cousins and siblings all joining in.

"What are you grinnin' about?" Toretto demands so Brian has to laugh, "Man, I almost had you!"

It gives Toretto a moment to alpha the entire crowd but it doesn't dim Brian's grin because that race was closer than Toretto knows, but not being cowed fits Brian Spilner's attitude because he's just a young punk looking for somewhere to belong, and he doesn't know any better.

Brian Earl Spilner has never had a pack, never had a pack that turned away.

The cops come because of course they do, and if it's planned, no one bothered to tell Brian. But he uses it, tracking Toretto as he tries to blend – wolves are persistence predators who never give up; cougars ambush. So Brian waits until Toretto's been spotted by a cop and then pounces, giving Toretto a get-away driver who drives best when there's traffic around to distract pursuers.

The quarter mile is Toretto's place to shine and so, on the run from the cops, adrenaline pounding in both their systems, Brian shows him what he can really do.

And it works, at least until the fucking Tran pack surround them on those stupid fucking crotch-rockets.

…

The wolves (about a third of the gang with Tran) ignore Brian for Toretto, except for the one Toretto calls Lance, Johnny Tran's cousin. There's something off about his scent, something sharp and bitter.

There was a kid in juvie who smelled like that. He was human, and he circled around the younger boys like a shark, looking for the weakest. Brian wouldn't be surprised if he'd gone on to become a serial killer or something like that, and he keeps his eyes on Lance while the rest of his senses track the pack, memorizing everything about them.

Johnny Tran hates Toretto but Lance is the dangerous one. Tran will follow whatever his alpha says, both because he's a son and a member of the pack. But Lance – he leans in close to Brian, scenting him, and murmurs, "What are you, kitty cat?"

Brian doesn't react, his eyes the only part of him that moves. Part of him wants to snarl something, to lash out, but that'll play into Lance's game and this is Toretto's show, not his.

Whatever the endgame is here, Johnny Tran does not want to start a war, so his pack gets back onto their bikes and leave. For just a moment, Brian thinks that's the end of it but then the engines are getting louder and he and Toretto jump away from the car in the same second as the Trans shoot it to pieces.

Fucking NOS, Brian thinks the same moment Toretto shouts it and they dive behind separate cover, Brian clutching his ears like that'll help mute how loud the explosion is. Fucking cat hearing.

…

Toretto's excuse leaves much to be desired: apparently, a business deal between the packs went sour, and he also slept with Johnny Tran's sister. Which is an out and out lie, because Brian knows that Johnny Tran has two younger brothers and numerous female cousins but no sisters. He lets Toretto skate by, though, because Brian Spilner wouldn't know that.

"You know I'm a wolf," Toretto rumbles after the second block passes in awkward silence. "So are the Trans."

"Yeah," Brian mutters, rolling his shoulders. The adrenaline's finally wearing down but there's still a ringing in his ears.

"What kind of cat are you?" Toretto asks, turning to square off against Brian.

Brian stares at him without blinking for a good long minute, eyebrow raised before remembering he's supposed to be Spilner, so he glances down. "Mountain lion," he says, then, "Do taxis run on this side of town?" because Spilner is also new to LA.

Toretto chuckles, slow and deep. "We gotta go a little further to find one, Spilner."

Brian just keeps walking next to him, untangling himself from Spilner. He can't fuck this up, won't. He's a cop, they're suspects, and Rome's ghost is keeping pace with him, angry and yapping on about betrayal, which, no. Brian never betrayed him. And he won't be betraying the Torettos (if they're the thieves) because they are not pack. Brian doesn't have a pack.

Toretto catches them a taxi and they sit in silence for the drive, and then Brian leaves him at the front walk, so tired and done with the whole night.

But Toretto calls him back. Toretto invites him into the den. Toretto grabs a beer out of his packmate's hand to give to Brian.

He is in.

…

He'd been right that they'd check him out; the best covers are ones that are the truth, minus a few details. Brian Spilner has the same brushes with the law as Brian O'Connor, minus a packmate and minus O'Connor turning his life around. Brian Spilner's a good guy but kind of an idiot, and he's been looking for somewhere to belong. Brian O'Connor knows that what he's got is all he'll ever have

It's Toretto (Dom) who invites Brian Spilner in; it's Mia who makes him welcome. The way she controls Johnson shows that while she may not be alpha, she's definitely second in the pack. It'll take both their approval for new members to join (not that he wants to join, not that he will for real) and he's well on his way to earning it.

He knows he has when Dom smiles at him (without teeth) and says, "You still owe me a ten second car."

…

Brian doesn't sleep much that night. He wants to roam around, learn the territory, settle in. imagines curling up with the pack that isn't his, that he doesn't want. He doesn't. He needs to report in, let Bilkins and Tanner know what he's learned the last week.

When the sirens sound the next morning, he's not surprised but he still puts up a damned good show.

…

Bilkins doesn't tell him anything new, just barks at him like a pissed off Chihuahua. Brian wants to snarl at him but doesn't because – well, unfortunately Bilkins outranks him so a few sarcastic remarks are okay but truly letting loose isn't. Damnit.

Tanner tries to keep the peace and he's pretty good at it, so Brian lets himself keep calm. Brian doesn't have much for them that's new, either – everything goes back to Dom and his pack because even if they're not the ones hijacking, Dom definitely knows who is.

The only good thing that comes from the meeting is getting that ten second car for Dom, in bad enough condition that it'll require time and effort to fix, which means that Dom'll need to have him around.

…

Dom says, I have faith in you.

He owns you now, Mia says.

Brian knows it's all a lie but working at the garage is soothing. Listening to the Toretto pack poke and prod at each other, all in good fun, being drawn in so easily – it's all so easy. Like running with Rome had been.

Keep your head, Brian has to tell himself, time and time again. Remember why you're here, O'Connor.

It gets harder when Dom invites him to dinner at the den, when Jesse prays to the car gods and Brian just wants to curl around him and protect him from the world. The kid is everyone's favorite, harmless and twitchy, a tiny little kitten in with a pack of wolves who would never hurt him.

Brian even asks, while Jesse is rambling on about his latest car design, "What kind are you?" and Jesse answers, "Gray tabby," peering apprehensively up at Brian, so clearly someone has given him a hard time before. Not the pack or he wouldn't be so at ease here.

"What about you?" Jesse asks, settling down when jeering doesn't come.

Brian chuckles, reaching out to run his fingers along Jesse's shoulders. "Mountain lion," he says.

Jesse just blinks up at him. "No shit?"

He grins without showing his teeth. "All my life," he says.

Looking back at the computer, Jesse says, "So you could kick Vince's ass easily?"

Brian chuckles again. "I could, yeah, but that might piss off Dom."

Vince seems to be coming around, anyway. He comes back to the barbeque, sinks into the chair across from Brian. He makes comments after, when Brian's helping Mia with the dishes but Mia puts him in his place and even gives Brian a date.

He needs to be careful because there's other ways to stay close. The more time he spends with the Toretto pack the less he thinks the hijackers are them. Surely Dom's too smart to put his pack in harm's way like that. The Trans, or even Hector's pack of coyotes and foxes, it's gotta be them.

Brian goes sniffing around the garages, leaping onto the roofs and slinking in the windows. He listens carefully while examining Hector's cars and it's like a blow when the tires don't match.

As he crawls back onto the roof, he hears Vince's heartbeat. He shouldn't have come in that recognizable truck. He pauses, completely silent, and listens – Dom's nearby, too. Fucking shit. A human would be caught but Brian Spilner's no more human than Brian O'Connor.

Vince is lurking with a shotgun, grinding his teeth, still in human shape. He goes down hard when Brian lands on his back, grabbing the shotgun away. He unloads it before Dom can get there, before Vince recovers, throwing it one way and the bullets another.

Vince comes up shouting, "You're a cop!" and lunging at Brian, half-shifting.

Brian snarls, moving in quickly, grabbing Vince's throat and throwing him back down.

"Vince!" Dom shouts, pulling Brian off him. "Brian!"

Brian goes quietly, pulling in his temper. This is such a fucking delicate situation and he has to salvage it, so he sorts through everything while Vince rants about him being a cop.

It's hilarious that Vince is the only one who's figured it out.

"Brian," Dom says, stepping between them, eyes the coldest Brian has seen them. "Be careful what you say."

"I owe you a ten second car," Brian says. "You know I can't lose again." And he rambles about what he saw in Hector's garage, and Vince doesn't believe him but he sees it in Dom's eyes, how much Dom wants to.

Dom soothes Vince with a rumble deep in his chest, with a hand to the back of his neck. Then he looks at Brian and orders, "Let's go for a little ride."

…

Johnny Tran is fucking insane. Brian crouches with Dom and watches him torture some guy, is very aware of Vince fuming behind another car, knows that only the stench of gasoline is shielding them, of Johnny Tran's anger blinding his ears and nose both. Any sound at all –

They are so fucking lucky and Brian doesn't move until the Trans are long gone. He doesn't realize that Dom must've been wanting for him to loosen. "Let's get the fuck out of here," Dom says.

Vince's anger has cooled but as they head for the car, Brian keeps Dom between them.

…

Bilkins demands another meet and Brian has to report what he's found. Bilkins wants to pounce on the Trans immediately, wants to finish this whole thing as quickly as possible even though there's not enough to prove the Trans are guilty, no matter how much Brian wishes there was.

Tanner asks about Dom, so Brian says, "I told you, I think he's too controlled for this. I mean, what, going suicidal on semi-trucks? No way." Dom wouldn't put his pack at risk like that, Brian is more and more sure of it as the days pass. "Maybe Vince," Brian admits, "but he's too stupid and he'd never do it without Dom's okay."

Bilkins goon says out of nowhere, "I think the kid sister's blurring your vision."

Brian looks over at him, demanding, "What'd you say?"

The guy shrugs. "I don't blame you. I'd get off on her surveillance photos too, buddy."

The guy has stupidly moved closer with every word, so even as Tanner is barking out, "Brian!" Brian lunges for the guy, too quick for any human to respond. The guy is big but easy to put down, fear in his eyes, heart panicking.

Brian stands up and slowly backs away, hands spread at his side. "You going native on me, Brian?" Tanner asks carefully. The guy is panting on the ground and Bilkins helps him up. "You read Toretto's file lately?" Tanner asks as Brian looks away from Bilkins and the guy.

"Yeah," Brian says softly. "I memorized that file."

"Read it again," Tanner commands, annoyance in the words. Brian doesn't know much about his sergeant, but Tanner knows how to move around shifters, knows how to use the pack structure without being pack himself. He talks about Dom like Dom's a monster, the kind in those horror movies Brian hated growing up, pulls out pictures of the guy Dom beat.

There has to be more to that story than is in the file and Brian's anger is still burning hot, so he tells Tanner, "I need a few more days." He stalks past the idiot without looking at him, tells Bilkins, "I need a few more days," and then he's gone.

It's gotta be Tran but there's no proof. It can't be Dom but there's no proof of that, either. It's all a fucking mess, and he wishes for that certainty he had a couple months ago, that he could remain aloof from all this.

…

The date with Mia is four days after breaking into Trans' garage. Letty and Leon have been giving him shit about it and Vince is fuming (again? or still? Brian isn't sure), and Dom decides now is the time to show Brian the most beautiful car he's ever seen.

The way he talks about the car, about his dad – he sounds like a little boy, still in the throes of hero worship. "That's my dad," he says, pointing at a picture. He sounds so young.

What Dom says is what is not in the file, the rest of the story. It doesn't excuse what he did to Kenny Linder – but it explains it. A wolf's hearing, a wolf's nose, and Brian shudders.

The fact that Dom attacked Linder as a man instead of a wolf is the only reason they're both still alive.

Brian wants to comfort him but Dom continues softly, "I live my life a quarter mile at a time. Nothing else matters. Not the mortgage, not the store, not my pack and all their bullshit."

No, Dom, Brian thinks, horror rising.

Dom says, "For those ten seconds or less, I'm free."

No, Brian thinks again. Please.

But he just says, "I'm sorry." Follows Dom out of the garage. Claps him on the back and goes back to work with him.

The words keep echoing and he wonders if Dom knows he just confessed.

…

Mia drives them to the restaurant. It's a bright place and Mia looks even prettier than usual. They talk about books and movies; Brian bullshits about the places he'd seen as he wandered He waits until they've ordered to ask, "So how'd the pack come to be?"

She hesitates, stumbling on the words as she says, "Well, that's, that's a whole lot of history." Their father wasn't a shifter, according to the files. Their mother was.

"I've got time," Brian says, smiling at her, trying his damnedest to appear harmless.

"Okay," she says, and talks about when they were kids, Dom and Vince, how their mother was gentle, dealing with two rough boys who got into trouble all the time. Letty grew up down the street, always coming around for the cars but staying for Mrs. Toretto's warmth. Mr. Toretto invited everyone in.

"How does Jesse fit into it?" Brian asks. "And Leon?"

"You mean because Jesse's a cat and Leon's human?" she asks wryly, then shrugs. "Jesse just wandered in one day, not long before Mama died. Dom was – Dom was gone, then, almost done with his time, and Leon showed up just after, following Jesse." She shrugs again. "Mama made them pack and when Dom saw that, he kept them." Mia nibbles on her lip, saying, "It's just the way my brother is, you know? Dom's like… he's like gravity. Mama was, too. Everything just gets pulled to them." She studies him for a moment. "Even you."

And Brian knows exactly what to say, how to play this moment. He could – he could lie, could charm her. Brian Spilner could love her.

When everything comes out – and it will, it will, Dom practically confessed this afternoon –

So he says, "I like you, Mia."

She nods. "I like you, too. And this is just fun, right?"

He could apologize. Instead he just says, "Yeah."

And they eat, and they go for a drive, and they have fun in the backroom at Harry's that's Brian's for the duration of this case, and he knows, when Tanner calls, he knows they're not going to find anything at the Tran's den, knows that everything is all spiraling out of control.

…

Brian O'Connor has not had a pack since he was eighteen years old. Brian Spilner has never had a pack. Brian Spilner is just a character, though. He doesn't exist.

Brian isn't on the team that busts into the Trans' den because his scent as a mountain lion is too unique. He's sitting on the hood of his car on a bluff overlooking Los Angeles, trying to imagine what Rome would say. What Aunt Constance would say. Even what Dom and Mia's mama would say.

Then he goes to HQ and waits for the fallout.

…

Bilkins gets chewed out over the phone. Brian hears everything before Bilkins relays it to Tanner. He knows how it's all going to go down – he's just the rookie undercover shifter. Bilkins asks snidely, "Is this the kind of intelligence I can expect from you, O'Connor?"

Brian says, "You're gonna put this on me?" even though he's seen it coming at every meet.

"I can put this on whoever I want to, kid. Perks of the job." Bilkins is angry, and that's fine, because Brian is too.

"You're not gonna put this on me," he says loudly, but he lets Bilkins, lets shout him down with unreasonable demands that would put Brian in hell of a lot of danger, lets Bilkins threaten his job.

He stalks into the yard, stares down at the pool, ignores when Tanner follows him out to call, "It's Toretto, Brian. It's always been Toretto." He closes his eyes as Tanner continues, "Tran and Hector are – they're just fumes." Tanner walks over, using that same soothing tone he must have learned from somewhere, "I know you've been lying to me. My question is this: Have you been lying to yourself because you can't see past Mia?"

It might've been true, in another life. Brian turns to look Tanner in the eye. "He won't go back to prison." Brian remembers the shifter half of juvie, the cell Rome must be in, even now, almost done with his time.

"Well," Tanner says, still in that tone, "that's a choice he's going to have to make." Tanner moves in closer. "There's all kinds of family, Brian." If he were an alpha, he'd put a hand to the back of Brian's neck as he says, "And that's a choice you're going to have to make."

He leaves Brian standing by the pool.

Humans don't get it, can't. Five years without a pack - he shouldn't need one. Shouldn't want one. Brian laughs, crouching down to run his fingers through the water.

The thing Brian O'Connor does best is lie. He lies to himself best of all. "Fuck it," he mutters, shifting into his other half. He needs the freedom, if only for this last night.

…

The ten second car is ready. He and Dom test it out, racing some jackass in a Ferrari, Brian's temper running high. Dom knows something's up but he lets Brian take his time, even gives him the okay to bait the jackass.

They stop for lunch. Dom tries that soothing alpha thing and it just – it rubs Brian the wrong way, and he's tripping all over himself, trying to get Dom to just tell him the truth. Thirty-six hours for proof, that's all he has, Race Wars ahead, and he knows. He knows.

He sounds angry but keeps his voice down, demanding to be let in, and Dom gives him the location of Race Wars instead. "We'll see how you do," Dom says, "then we'll talk."

Fuck everything. Brian grits his teeth, curls his fingers into fists. Dom's grinning at him, just a hint of teeth.

"Fine," he says.

…

Race Wars is mostly human with a few shifters. Brian races and wins, races and wins. It's easy, against humans. He takes a break to track down the Toretto pack and when he finds Jesse –

Jesse is about to race Johnny fucking Tran. "Don't do it," Brian says as Tran meets his gaze, smiling with all of his teeth. This is a trap and Jesse's caught.

Brian sees how it will all play out and he follows Leon back to the Toretto setup, feeling the snarl build in his throat. He hears Leon say, "He just raced Tran for slips," and if Tran hadn't pulled up right then, Brian would have thrown Leon onto the ground for letting Jesse get into such a mess.

But Tran challenges Dom, calls him a snitch. Dom's on him until security pulls him off, shouting, "I never narc'd on nobody!" Vince and Letty pull him away, Tran still bleeding on the ground.

When Brian goes to follow, he comes face to face with Lance. "Hey, pretty kitty," Lance says, blood dripping down his face. He reaches out to touch Brian and Brian catches his hand, lets his nails shift into claws.

"Don't touch me," Brian says softly, steadily meeting Lance's gaze as the crowd disperses, the fight over.

Lance blinks first, pulls his hand away. There are faint scores in his skin. Brian lets him go, hurrying to catch up to Dom.

Brian's never seen Dom this angry. Vince glares at him, but Brian's still pissed at Leon and goes straight for him, grabbing him by the throat and shouting, "How could you let him race Tran?!"

"Brian!" Dom says. "Brian, he's human!"

"I know," Brian says. He loosens his hold slightly. "If they hurt Jesse, I'll hurt you." Leon's eyes are wide, the stench of terror on the air.

"Jesse'll be fine," Dom says, reaching for the back of Brian's neck.

Brian moves away. Dom's hand drops. Letty, Mia, and Vince are all silent as Brian turns to face Dom. "I'm going for a walk," he bites out, retracting his claws.

Fuck, it's all such a mess. He's too close. It'd be so easy to slip in, but it's all a lie. They like Brian Spilner, who doesn't exist.

He walks until long after sunset, tracking the Tran pack mostly on autopilot. They want to hurt Dom and it doesn't matter how. The clock is winding down. Brian is so fucked.

He heads back to the Toretto camp to see if Mia's up for one last tumble before everything explodes and instead hears her yelling at Dom, begging him not to –

"Are you fucking serious?" Brian hisses, watching Dom, Vince, Letty, and Leon drive away. Mia's crying. Jesse's missing.

Fuck, and he hasn't warned them –

"Mia, where are they going?" he demands.

"What?" she asks.

"Come on, what's your brother racing off in the middle of the night for?" He doesn't mean to get louder. "I'm talking about the trucks. You know about the trucks?"

He's still an outsider. She won't tell him a thing unless he plays the one card he has.

This case was fucked from the beginning, wasn't it?

"Listen to me," he says, forcibly turning her around. "Mia, listen. I'm a cop."

She doesn't believe him. "What are you talking about?"

"Ever since I first started coming around," he murmurs, "I've been undercover. I'm a cop."

She snarls and pulls away but he keeps with her. "I like you," he says. "I like all of you. But Dom's about to pull a job and we're running out of time." He lays it all out, that there's no way to escape, that the truckers are arming themselves, and then he says, "You have to help me before it's too late."

There are still tears in her eyes as she betrays her pack and follows him to the car.

…

They figure out where Dom must be going and he calls in a trace, and Mia's scent is angry and hurting, and this is Rome all over again, except worse. He didn't know about Rome till after everything was done. But this –

"What's going to happen?" Mia asks as they wait for the trace to run.

"I don't know," Brian says.

…

They finally get there and everything's fucked.

All three cars are down. Vince is trapped on the side of the truck, tangled in wire and bleeding. Even shifting won't help him now – he'd still be caught without a way to hold on. Brian gets rid of the roof and tells Mia to take the wheel. Wolves are strong and fast and steady – but cats are goddamned acrobats, and this isn't worse than anything he and Rome ever did.

He jumps onto the truck, grabs onto the mirror, and keeps up a steady patter for Vince's sake, for Mia's. He cuts his hands on the wire but untangles Vince and throws him into the car, leaping to safety just as the driver tries to blow his head off.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants as Mia pulls away. He can hear Vince's heart racing but all the blood is just pouring out, his arm is jacked to hell, and he doesn't need Mia shouting, "We need help!" to know what he has to do. It's the only chance Vince has.

He just wishes Dom hadn't got there in time to hear him say, "This is Officer Brian O'Connor."

Brian feels the danger as the wolf in Dom draws a bead on him but he keeps reciting the necessary info for the chopper and keeps Vince alive until it arrives. Dom and the rest of the pack flee as Brian helps load Vince into the helicopter, telling the medic everything he knows.

He doesn't call Tanner or Bilkins or anyone. He checks the cars abandoned on the side of the road, cleans them for prints. "This is fucking stupid," he mutters but he doesn't stop. The one that's flipped over is leaking fuel so he gives it the spark it needs.

He bangs his head on his steering wheel and then he starts the car.

…

He goes to Dom's house and gets there as Dom's about to climb into the Charger he said he was afraid to drive, armed with a shotgun. Brian pulls his own gun and the situation just –

How did it get this bad? Jesse's still on the run from the Trans, Leon and Letty are gone, Vince probably won't make it. "You are the cop!" Dom shouts and Brian wants to scream, "What kind of alpha are you?" but he doesn't because that's when Jesse pulls up.

Jesse's panicking, and Dom drops the shotgun, and they all hear the engines about the same time.

Brian moves before he thinks about it, shifting mid-leap to cover Jesse, throwing them both to the ground. Jesse shifts, too, curling up beneath him, trembling and crying. Mia and Dom have to wait until the Trans are gone, until the bullets stop flying, but thank Jesse's car gods, Brian doesn't smell blood.

He can still hear the engines. He shifts back and heads for where he dropped his gun, climbs into his car. He can't think about how close Jesse came to dying, or what Dom's going to do. If he can get to the Trans first, the situation is salvageable.

They pepper his car with bullets, aren't even really aiming, and he should call for backup but he doesn't. They move in precision like he and Rome used to, almost trap him, but then Dom's there in that beast of a car and Lance is down. Johnny is panicking, there are sirens in the distance, and Brian's got him in sight, takes aim. Fires.

He checks the body though he doesn't need to and turns to see Dom in the distance. Waiting.

What kind of alpha are you? he thinks even as he begins the chase.

…

"There are good alphas and bad alphas," Aunt Constance told Brian when he was twelve, after he'd led Rome into another mess. They got each other into trouble equally, both loud-mouthed, both reckless. Mom would only sigh but Aunt Constance would shake her head, would try to make sure they'd learned a lesson.

Brian learned a lot of lessons. Aunt Constance was never his alpha, though he was in the pack because he and Rome were brothers. Are brothers, maybe, if Rome will ever talk to him again.

Brian doesn't have a pack, doesn't need an alpha. And Dom – Dom loves his pack, but the heists, choosing that last job over finding Jesse. Risking everything, and for what? Maybe he had a reason. Maybe he didn't. Brian doesn't know, but it doesn't matter.

He catches up to Dom at a redlight, pulls up next to him. "I used to drag race here when I was in high-school," Dom tells him conversationally. "That railroad crossing up there is exactly a quarter mile away from here." Brian looks over as Dom says, "On green, I'm going for it."

What the fuck is this? But Brian feels something in him settle. Dom wants to race, they'll race. Letty and Leon are gone, Vince may survive, Mia and Jesse are safe. Lance might be dead; Johnny definitely is. So he'll let Dom have this.

The light turns. Dom's driving his dad's car and Brian's in the car they rebuilt together. A train's coming but neither of them hesitate.

Brian doesn't back down. It's possibly the stupidest thing about him.

He's slightly ahead as they explode across the crossing just before the train. He thinks for just a moment that they're home free –

A fucking semi hits Dom and his car flips. Rolls.

Brian can still hear his heartbeat but something isn't right as he rushes over. Dom's left shoulder isn't hanging right so Brian helps him out of the car.

Sirens in the distance. Something not quite right about Dom's breathing. One working car.

What kind of alpha are you?

Brian offers the keys.

"You know what you're doing?" Dom asks instead of taking the out.

"I owe you a ten second car," Brian says.

Without him, there's no case. Without the driver, there's no case.

Brian watches him walk away, watches him drive.

Cougars are solitary. There's nothing keeping him in LA except the job he just quit, except the pack of wolves, a human, and a cat that won't want him now.

So he runs.