Chapter Text
You can’t outrun who you are.
Wayne thought prison would be the worst thing that could happen to him.
He was wrong.
On the outside, Del is barely holding herself together. After her father’s sudden death, she’s left alone with nothing but his mistakes—debts, enemies, and a world that seems determined to swallow her whole. Every bad decision pulls her deeper, every fight gets harder, and for the first time, she has no way out.
Inside, Wayne has become something else entirely. Quiet. Feared. Untouchable. He refuses to belong to anyone, refuses to bend, and that makes him dangerous—not just to others, but to himself. When he learns Del is in trouble, there’s no hesitation, no plan, no second thoughts.
He escapes.
What follows is a reunion as inevitable as it is explosive. No explanations. No apologies. Just two people who were never meant to survive, finding each other again in the middle of chaos.
They hit the road, just like before—but this time, they’re not chasing something.
They’re running.
From the law. From violent men tied to Del’s past. From everything they’ve done—and everything they are. Every mile brings new trouble, new fights, new choices neither of them is ready to make.
Because loving each other was the easy part.
The hard part is what comes after.
As the world closes in, Del begins to see the truth she’s been avoiding: Wayne doesn’t just fight because he has to—he fights because it’s the only way he knows how to exist. And Wayne, for the first time in his life, is forced to face a question he doesn’t understand:
Can someone like him ever change…
—or will he destroy the only person he’s ever loved?
In the end, there are no clean escapes.
No perfect endings.
Only a choice:
Keep running…
or finally stop.
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The first thing Del notices about the prison is that it smells like wet concrete and bad decisions.
The second thing she notices is that nobody here looks surprised to see her.
“Name?” the guard asks without looking up.
“Del,” she says.
He sighs like she just told him her name was “Problem.”
“Full name.”
She hesitates. Not because she doesn’t know it—because saying it feels like admitting she belongs here.
“…Delilah Luccetti.”
The guard finally looks up. Raises an eyebrow.
“Relation to the inmate?”
Del shrugs. “Depends who’s asking.”
Wayne, meanwhile, is bleeding. Not badly. Just enough to make a point.
Some guy named Travis thought it’d be funny to take his tray at lunch. Wayne didn’t think it was funny. Now Travis is on the ground making wet coughing noises and Wayne is sitting back down like nothing happened.
A guard yells, “HEY!”
Wayne raises his hand slightly. “He fell.”
Visiting hours are loud.
Metal chairs scraping. People pretending they don’t care. People caring too much.
Del sits at the table, bouncing her leg like it’s got somewhere better to be.
She almost leaves.
Actually stands up, pushes the chair back—
“Luccetti.”
She freezes.
The guard nods toward the far door. “He’s comin’.”
And then—
Wayne walks in.
He looks… smaller.
Not physically. Wayne’s still built like a guy who could headbutt a car and win. But there’s something quieter about him. Like someone turned the volume down but didn’t tell his fists.
He spots her.
Stops.
For a second, neither of them moves. Like if they do, it might break whatever this is.
Then Wayne walks over and sits down across from her.
Silence.
He looks at her face like he’s checking if it’s real.
“You cut your hair,” he says.
Del blinks. Of all the things.
“Yeah, well,” she shrugs, “less for people to grab during fights.”
Wayne nods. “Smart.”
Another silence.
“So,” Del says, trying to sound like she’s not about to explode, “you in prison now.”
Wayne shrugs. “Yeah.”
“…Cool.”
“Yeah.”
A guy at the next table starts crying loudly. Nobody reacts.
Del leans forward. “You didn’t call.”
Wayne frowns. “I don’t got a phone.”
“You could’ve written.”
“I ain’t good at that.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“I wrote one.”
She blinks. “What?”
Wayne scratches the back of his neck. “Guard said it had to be… legible.”
Del stares at him. Then laughs. It comes out wrong—too sharp.
“Of course you did.”
Wayne looks at her like he’s trying to solve a problem he doesn’t have the tools for.
“You okay?” he asks.
And that does it.
Del leans back, shakes her head. “No, Wayne. I’m not okay.”
Heads turn. She doesn’t care.
“I drove across states with you, got shot at, stabbed a guy—”
“You stabbed him a little,” Wayne mutters.
“I STABBED HIM, WAYNE!”
A guard glances over. Wayne raises a hand like it’s fine.
Del lowers her voice, but it’s worse now. Quieter. Sharper.
“And then you just—what? Go to prison and disappear?”
Wayne looks down at the table.
“I didn’t disappear.”
“You did to me.”
There it is.
The thing sitting between them this whole time.
Wayne clenches his jaw. “I didn’t want you here.”
Del scoffs. “Wow. Great job. Really nailed that.”
“I mean it,” he says, looking up now. “This place—”
He gestures vaguely. “It’s not… good.”
“No shit, Wayne, it’s prison.”
He leans in, voice low. “People here, they don’t… stop. You look at ‘em wrong, they don’t forget. I didn’t want that near you.”
Del stares at him.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Wayne doesn’t answer.
Because she’s right. He knows it.
Another pause.
This one softer.
Del exhales. “I tried to move on.”
Wayne nods once. Like he expected that.
“I couldn’t,” she adds.
That hits.
You can actually see it land.
Wayne’s shoulders shift, just slightly. Like he’s adjusting to carrying something heavier.
“…Yeah,” he says.
A buzzer sounds somewhere.
“Five minutes!” a guard shouts.
Del laughs under her breath. “Of course.”
Wayne nods. “Yeah.”
She leans forward again, closer now.
“You getting into fights?” she asks.
Wayne shrugs. “Sometimes.”
“Wayne.”
“They start it.”
“You finish it.”
“…Yeah.”
She studies his face. The bruises. The small cut above his eyebrow.
“You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
Wayne tilts his head. “Probably.”
“Not funny.”
“I ain’t jokin’.”
Del reaches across the table.
Stops halfway.
Then keeps going.
Grabs his hand.
Wayne freezes.
Not like when he’s about to punch someone. Different. Like he doesn’t know what to do with something that isn’t pain.
“You don’t get to die,” she says quietly.
He looks at their hands.
“…Okay.”
It’s not a promise.
It’s the closest thing he can give.
The buzzer goes again.
“Time’s up!”
People start standing. Chairs scrape.
Del doesn’t move.
“Del—” Wayne starts.
She stands up suddenly, walks around the table—
And kisses him.
It’s not gentle.
It’s not soft.
It’s the kind of kiss that says you idiot, I missed you, don’t you dare leave me again all at once.
The guards start yelling immediately.
“HEY! BACK UP!”
Wayne stands there, stunned.
Del pulls back just enough to look at him.
“I’m coming back,” she says.
Wayne nods.
“Okay.”
“Try not to beat anyone to death before then.”
“…No promises.”
She smirks. “Yeah. That tracks.”
They pull her away.
Wayne watches her go.
Doesn’t look away this time.
Back in his cell later, Travis—the lunch guy—groans from the bunk.
“…you got a girlfriend?” he croaks.
Wayne sits down.
Thinks about it.
A small, almost invisible smile.
“Yeah,” he says.