Deckard's POV

I jumped down and went straight for Isa, helping her out of the trunk. Her hands gripped mine—tighter than usual—and I could feel it. The tension in her back, the pain she was biting down on. She didn't need to say a word. I knew.

The doc warned us—twins would be harder. And with our lives? Yeah, multiply that by a hundred. I leaned in, voice low, just for her.

"Babee... lean on me. Take my hands."

She did. No hesitation. That's Isa for you—strong even when she's hurting. We moved slowly, like every step meant something. Because right now, it did.

Up front, Owen was helping Hattie out of the truck. Hobbs was checking the machine, jaw tight. I kept Isa close, resting her against the trunk, my arm wrapped around her waist. She needed that second to breathe. We all did, and I helped Isa sit down, and Owen gave me a look, saying he would watch her.  I walk off knowing my wife is safe with Owen.  

Then Hobbs said it, dead serious."I'm sorry, brother. This thing's really destroyed."

Owen dragged a hand through his hair, frustration all over him. And me—I felt that weight drop in my gut. That punch of sadness. But no way was I losing my sister. Not now. Not to this. Not even if she's been acting like a stubborn kid about me being married

Hattie let out a breath. "Well, there goes option two. That only leaves the first one."

I looked straight at her. "Come on. Stop it, Hat."

She turned to me, eyes full of exhaustion. "I'm tired, Deck. I'm done running."

I looked to Isa—my center—and she gave me a nod. Owen too. I stepped forward, letting that big brother voice cut through and said, "We still got time."

Hattie shook her head. "Time? Time for what? The machine's destroyed."

I didn't blink. "Yeah, well... we'll fix it."

She stared at me like I'd lost it. "How?"

Hobbs spoke up. "We need to find a place to get off the grid."
Owen, crouched by Isa, added, "And we need to make sure the babies are okay."

Hattie wasn't wrong. "Where?" she snapped. "We're wanted everywhere. And Brixton won't stop. I told you on the plane—we should've gone with option one. It's done now, Deck."

I stepped up to her, voice raised, before I could stop myself.
"It is not done."

She jerked slightly at the sound, but I pressed on.

"Look at me. You remember what you used to say to me when we were kids? 'Deck, it's never over till I say it's over.' We used to laugh, remember that?"

She looked away, voice breaking. "No, Deck. That went... a long time ago."

"Then bring it back." My voice dropped, steady now. "Say it. Remember who you are. Who are we. We're the Shaws. We don't quit. Not ever."

Owen stepped beside me. Isa, with that fire in her voice, added, "We've got each other's backs. No matter what."

And finally—finally—Hattie smiled. Small. But real. The spark was still there.

Then Hobbs, quiet until now, stared off like something had just clicked. I turned toward him.

"We've got a day. Maybe more," I said, voice level.

Hattie sighed. "We don't even know where we'd go."

Hobbs looked up. "I know a place."

We all turned to him. I raised a brow. "Where?"

He paused, like the words tasted like nails.
"The last place on earth I ever wanna go... Home."

Later that night, Hobbs made the call to Dinkley. Within the hour, an aircraft was in the sky, coming for us. No questions asked. We got on board, bruised and quiet.

Isa leaned into me. Owen sat across, eyes closed, arms folded. Hattie rested her head back, finally still. And me?

For the first time in what felt like forever... I shut my eyes too.

We weren't safe yet. But we were still standing. Still together. And that? That's a start.