Author's Note: Okay so I was planning on writing a new fluffy bit for my series of one shots "The Moment" but in preparation for Fast 6 next month my roomie and I caught up and finally watched Fast 5. I liked it… except for the end. No, not the part where Letty is alive, I knew about that and was excited. I just wasn't thrilled with the whole Dom/Elena relationship, despite knowing it was coming. I wrote this one shot in response. It is Letty's PoV and gives some explanation as to why she may end up where she is. There were some rumors she might have memory loss though honestly they could go many different directions. Now I don't buy the whole Hollywood total amnesia BS. So I tried to use memory loss in a realistic manner. Hopefully it comes across well. Thanks for reading!

"It's in the stars
It's been written in the scars on our hearts
We're not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again"

Just Give Me a Reason - Pink

Broken

She was still alive. But she was so broken that she often wondered if it was even worth it. To pull herself out of the wreckage of the car over a year ago, and wind up in a life she detested. Parts of the last five years before the wreck were still spotty. Minor brain damage, the doctors had told her that first day she'd struggled out of her coma to find herself in a European hospital. No one she recognized or knew around her.

They said the memories would come back, and some had, a jumbled mess. The accident couldn't take Dom and Mia from her; they'd been a part of her life too long. She'd grown up with them. They had always been family. But she had no idea where they were, how long it had been since she'd seen them. They were no longer in LA and there had been no way to reach them.

After that she could remember parts of her life – being in Mexico with Dom and Leon, parting ways, mourning Jesse. She remembered traveling back and forth across the border. She remembered brief, passion-filled moments in Dominican Republic. Details were sparse, new people she'd met had slipped out of her mind like water through a sieve.

And there'd been Owen. He'd claimed to know her. They met because of Braga, he told her, that first month she'd been held in the hospital and feeling incredibly alone. She couldn't recall him, or Braga, though the name made her feel an irrational sense of fear.

Later, when she'd been discharged it had been Owen who offered her a place to stay. He'd supported her efforts to try and contact her friends; though without all her memories the trail was cold.

She couldn't understand why they didn't come looking for her.

After six months of fruitless searching she'd broken down and cried. She might as well have died in that accident. Owen had been there – though she hadn't dared to let him see her cry. He told her she wasn't alone.

Then he offered her a job.

At first it had been thrilling, and she was good at it. She was daring and a natural behind the wheel. The speed was addictive. So was the danger. After all, she hardly cared if it could kill her.

A few more months and she started to grow uncomfortable. The jobs were bigger, badder. They were carrying guns and leaving behind casualties. Owen was ruthless. She knew this was not her. But she found herself trapped in the company of dangerous people.

Quietly she began searching, trying to find their old friends, wracking her memory for anyone who might be able to find Dom for her. She remembered Vince was in Rio. She'd wanted to go there after DR and the fuel tankers. But before she could reach out to him, Owen came to her.

"You know," he said conversationally. "You really have nowhere else to go."

He left her a clip from the LA Times with an obituary. She was dead.

That's why no one was looking for her.

Owen wouldn't let her go. He liked to remind her that when people died, their loved ones moved on. Did she really imagine Dom would be faithful to a ghost? Would she expect him to? If she was really dead she'd want him to move on. To be happy.

But a part of her resented that he might be.

Maybe no one was looking for her… but they were looking for Owen and his crew. For the people leaving a trail of death and destruction across Europe.

She was going to make sure they found them. After all… freedom hardly mattered when you were already broken.