Chapter 7: Late Night Tinkering Alone, And Complete Mess.

As midnight approached, the shop was quiet, its usual lively energy replaced by a deep, restful silence. Everyone had headed home after the long day, satisfied and tired from their work, jokes, and shared stories. The shop lights dimmed as Guldrin nestled into his bed, listening to the soft hum of the few remaining machines left on standby. But, just as his eyes began to close, a faint stirring interrupted his peace.

It wasn't hunger, well not exactly, but something akin to a gnawing craving, a deep-seated urge that he couldn't quite ignore. As he lay there, restless and fidgeting, Jesse's words from earlier echoed in his mind, 'engines, speed, food, money'. The logic spun in his thoughts, combining and building on itself, merging with the allure of the machines he'd worked on throughout the day.

Before he realized it, Guldrin was out of bed and padding over to the garage, his fingers itching to tinker. He flipped on the shop lights, his eyes scanning the dimly lit expanse of tools, parts, and the projects left unfinished. It was a smorgasbord of metal and grease, a buffet of potential that could satisfy that unyielding itch growing inside him.

Hours slipped away as Guldrin worked, his attention focused and unyielding. He was relentless, diving headfirst into engine parts, his fingers darting between wrenches, sockets, and screwdrivers with a fervor he hadn't felt before. Parts were soon scattered around him like a chaotic maze of tools, bolts, and connectors. The garage transformed into a whirlwind of his labor, and he kept pushing forward, adding, modifying, experimenting. The urge to see the machine come to life was overwhelming, driving him until his hands were slick with oil, smudges streaked across his cheeks, and sweat beaded on his brow. Even Emily was now black instead of her pristine white.

Guldrin's single-minded focus honed in on a half-disassembled engine he had decided was the heart of his makeshift project. The motor was stubborn, refusing to align with his vision, but that only fueled his determination. Bolts, nuts, and screws spun around his fingers like old friends as he meticulously reassembled, only to break it down and start again. Somewhere along the way, he'd lost track of what exactly he was doing, driven less by a specific end goal and more by the sheer joy of the work, the thrill of creating something entirely his own. Of course, the ultimate goal was to gain more food.

The garage became a chaotic canvas of metal parts and oil spills. Each new idea led to another adjustment, and soon, small sections of wiring, gears, and pistons littered the floor around him, forming a maze of semi-constructed pieces. Guldrin's hands were steady, but his mind was wild, threading pieces together and weaving something new, piecing together a half-formed creation from memories he didn't quite recall.

He didn't stop to think, didn't slow down, only urged himself forward with each completed piece. His Gluttony sin flared up now and then, urging him on like an insatiable hunger driving him forward. The thoughts of speed, engines, and the thrill of the road pushed him to go further, faster, and bolder. Even though he couldn't yet test the engine himself, he imagined it roaring to life, a triumphant surge of power and energy breaking through the garage walls. The sounds and sensations of the roaring machine filled his imagination, his every action feeding his craving.

It wasn't until the faint light of dawn began peeking through the garage windows that Guldrin finally felt exhaustion tugging at him. The craving receded, leaving him in a mess of parts and grime. He looked around, a bit dazed, finally noticing the utter chaos he'd created. Tools lay scattered across the floor; random bolts and springs were strewn like confetti from his endless disassembly and reassembly. Oil slicks painted the ground, his hands, and his clothes, even streaking across his face and dusting his hair with streaks of dark smudges. Emily was a comically unfortunate victim of his frenzy, her snowy white fur now smeared with a layer of black grease, looking at him in mild annoyance.

As he tried to catch his breath, Guldrin noticed the mess had taken over nearly every available surface, the small pockets of space where tools or parts had once been meticulously stored now empty and disorganized. His stomach growled, reminding him just how long he'd gone without food. Frowning, he grabbed the bags of chips, and sandwiches he was given for his work yesterday and began eating, not even noticing the fact that his food was being stained with oil and grime. 

The sun grew brighter, yet Guldrin remained hunched over his work, oblivious to the toll it took on him. Eventually, his exhaustion caught up, and he curled up against one of the tires, his makeshift bed surrounded by the remnants of his work, but before he could drift off, the soft padding of footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see the first arrivals from the crew filtering into the shop. 

Dominic unlocked the shop and walked in first, stopping dead in his tracks as he took in the scene. His eyes widened as they traced the path of disarray, pausing at the oil-streaked floor, the parts scattered about, and then finally landing on Guldrin, who looked as if he'd just been in a battle with a machine. In the midst of the mess was Guldrin, curled up, covered head-to-toe in oil and grime, looking like he'd survived a wrestling match with an engine and maybe even won. Letty, who'd entered right behind him, covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, her eyes wide with shock and amusement as she took in the scene. Jesse joined them, his mouth dropping open as he surveyed the remnants of what seemed to be a late-night hurricane.

"Kid," Dominic finally spoke, his voice calm yet exasperated. "Did you…sleep at all?" Guldrin's tired smile was the only answer he could muster, followed by a shrug and a shake of his head as he held up a grease-streaked hand.

"I…tried working on the engine," Guldrin said, blinking sleepily. "Jesse said it was like… the heart. So I wanted to make it run fast, but, well…" He gestured around him helplessly at the chaos.

Jesse crossed his arms, struggling to keep a grin off his face. "Well, you sure did work on something, alright. Haha, I haven't seen the shop look like this in all my life," he teased. Guldrin's cheeks tinged pink under the layers of oil, as he scratched his head and looked sheepishly around at the mess he'd created.

Letty chuckled, patting Guldrin on the shoulder. "You certainly gave it your all, didn't you?" Her tone was warm and encouraging. "And look at you, covered head to toe in grease. You're really one of us now."

Emily, still smudged with oil, meowed from her perch on one of the toolboxes, drawing Letty's attention. With a laugh, she scooped up the grumpy feline, giving her a gentle pet. "And looks like you've got a partner in crime here."

Vince joined them, surveying the mess with a raised eyebrow, giving a low whistle. "You've got a bit of a habit of diving in headfirst, huh, kid? First you boost our snacks and now this…" But his expression softened as he clapped a hand on Guldrin's shoulder, giving him an approving nod. "Not a bad instinct, though. You get that fire going, and there's no stopping you."

Dom sighed, his initial irritation melting into a kind of resigned amusement. "Alright, let's get this place cleaned up before we start the day," he said, glancing over at the others. "We'll call this one a learning experience." Everyone laughed and Guldrin had the decency to blush, though his grease and oil covered appearance didn't allow it to show.

Guldrin, still covered in grime, joined in the cleanup, laughing alongside the others as they tidied up the mess. The morning felt alive with a shared energy, each of them pitching in, joking, and ribbing Guldrin about his ambitious late-night tinkering. Despite the disorder he'd created, there was an unspoken understanding that he belonged. As they worked, he felt the weight of his actions were apparent by how long it took all of them to clean. 

Though, Guldrin's mind revisited his sign-in reward he gained last night, 'Ding, User has signed in at Toretto Garage. Reward: Tinker's Knowledge.' 

'What is Tinker's knowledge? I can't eat it but… Will it help me make things go fast?' Emily, hearing Guldrin's question, merely rolled her eyes and eye-smiled.

'Would you like to use the reward: 'Tinker's Knowledge'? (Y/N)'

"Yes." Guldrin spoke and his mind was once again filled with a multitude of information, making his head spin and he got dizzy. "Woah, are you okay there?" Letty braced him and prevented him from falling, "Take a small break, you are a kid and staying up all night can't have been good for you. Maybe it's catching up to you." She forced him to take a seat on a stack of tires till he recovered.

By the time the garage was nearly clean and the significant remnants of the late-night chaos were erased, Guldrin looked at the group with a sense of satisfaction and clear embarrassment. Dominic placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. "Next time, let us know when you get the urge to pull an all-nighter. We'll make sure you've got some guidance," he said with a smirk, earning a round of laughter from the crew.

Guldrin nodded, grinning ear-to-ear. He'd pushed himself to his limits, but standing there surrounded by the family he'd found, he realized it was worth every bit of grime, exhaustion, and mess. He belonged here, not just as a tag-along but as part of the team, part of something bigger than himself. At least, he hoped he did.

Dom gave him a final pat on the back. "Just remember, Guldrin, there's a time for work, a time for rest, and a time for food," he reminded him, glancing at the clock. "And right now, it's time for breakfast."

As they headed out, Guldrin couldn't help but smile. The mess was nearly gone, just some random parts, bits and ends lying around, but the memory of that night's feverish work remained. 

As the group moved toward the kitchen, the scent of coffee began to waft through the air, mingling with the remnants of last night's projects. Guldrin felt a twinge of embarrassment at the memory of his frenzied work session, but it was quickly overshadowed by a sense of belonging. The teasing and laughter were a comforting reminder that he wasn't alone in this strange new world, as he once was.

In the café kitchen, Mia set about whipping up breakfast with practiced ease, her movements fluid as she cracked eggs and tossed them into a pan, the sizzle bringing the rest of the crew to life. "So, what brought on this urge to pull an all-nighter?" Vince asked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, an inquisitive look on his face.

Guldrin, still trying to shake off the last remnants of near sleep, rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at Emily, who was perched beside him, her whiskers twitching with curiosity as to what breakfast would be, her now clean coat of fur making her much more content. "I… wanted to work on the engine," he admitted, sheepishly. "Jesse said it was like the heart of the car. If I could make it run fast, then-"

"Then you could win races," Jesse chimed in, finishing Guldrin's thought with an encouraging nod. "And winning races means cash, which means food. It's all about that logical flow."

"Exactly!" Guldrin replied, his enthusiasm bubbling up again. "But I didn't think it would turn into such a mess. I just got carried away." He chuckled lightly, the embarrassment fading as he recalled how much fun he actually had.

"Let that be a lesson, kid," Vince chimed in with a smirk. "Next time, just remember: don't drown yourself in grease before breakfast. I don't think we've got enough soap for that."

As they laughed and shared stories over breakfast, the clatter of utensils and the warmth of their banter filled the room. Guldrin couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude for the weird new family. This was a family he had never expected to find, one that welcomed his quirks and encouraged his new-found passion for tinkering and didn't get mad at his constant need for food.

Just as Mia placed a platter of eggs and bacon on the table, the sound of tires screeching on the road caught their attention. The crew paused, glancing out the window. A red pickup truck pulled up outside, emblazoned with the words "Harry's Auto" across its side. Vince's expression darkened as he leaned closer to the window, peering through the glass.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, irritation creeping into his voice. "What does he want now?"

"Is that another delivery?" Letty asked, squinting towards the brightening driveway. The garage door opened wider, revealing a red pickup truck emblazoned with the name 'Harry's Auto' on the side. A sense of familiarity hung in the air, but Guldrin couldn't quite put his finger on it. Instead, his head hurt when he tried to think of it and quickly stopped.

Vince crossed his arms, a frown tugging at his lips. "Looks like it. Probably that Brian Spilner guy again. What does he want this time? Didn't Dom say he would be fired the other day? I still feel that beating we exchanged that day." His tone was laced with disdain, eyes narrowing at the approaching vehicle.

"Come on, Vince. Give the guy a break, Dom tried to get him fired, but Harry said good help is hard to find." Letty chimed in, trying to ease the tension. "He's just doing his job."

Vince rolled his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Yeah, a job that involves hitting on Mia every single day. It's like clockwork. Tuna sandwiches and flirting. He's practically a fixture around here." His frustration was palpable, and he gestured dismissively towards the truck as it came to a halt.

Guldrin, curious yet apprehensive, watched as a young man with tousled blonde hair and a confident stride climbed out of the pickup. Brian O'Conner, though Guldrin and the others only knew him only as Brian Spilner, approached the garage with a casual air, a smile plastered on his face. The crew had grown accustomed to his presence, but Guldrin couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about him.

"Morning, everyone!" Brian greeted, his voice bright and cheerful, as if he hadn't a care in the world. He tossed a wave toward Mia, who stood by the counter, eyeing him with a mixture of intrigue and exasperation.

"Hey, Brian," she replied, her tone neutral.

Vince stepped forward, crossing his arms tighter. "What do you want, Spilner? Here to drop off more parts or just to annoy us?" The tension in the air thickened, everyone aware of the subtle undercurrents of rivalry.

"Just delivering the goods, Vince," Brian said with a smirk, unfazed by the hostility. "Got some new parts for Dom's project. And, well, I could use a break… Never too early to buy some of those wonderful tuna sandwiches." He gestured to the load in the back of his truck, the familiar scent of new parts wafting through the air.

Guldrin watched as Vince's expression darkened. "You should come up with something better if you're just trying to get Mia's attention… No one likes the tuna sandwiches here other than my cat." he muttered under his breath, but the words hung in the air like an accusation.

Brian chuckled lightly, clearly enjoying the irritation he sparked in Vince. "What can I say? I have a thing for good sandwiches and good company," he replied smoothly, glancing over at Mia, who had taken a step back, clearly having noticed the growing tension in the air.

As the rest of the crew exchanged glances, a mixture of amusement and annoyance passed between them. They had seen this dance before, and it never failed to stir the pot.

"Let's just get the parts unloaded," Dominic interjected, trying to maintain order. "We've got work to do."

As the crew moved to assist Brian with the delivery, Guldrin lingered back, feeling the whirlwind of emotions that swirled around him. His earlier sense of belonging had not faded, but this situation felt different. There was something beneath the surface he couldn't quite grasp. Something was wrong, but he couldn't place it.

Brian chatted with Mia and Vince stood nearby, arms crossed and scowling, Guldrin leaned against the workbench, his mind drifting back to his late-night tinkering. He couldn't shake the memory of that insatiable urge to create something fast and powerful, something that could take him far beyond the confines of the garage. He felt a flicker of determination reignite within him. Even more so now that he got that new knowledge after his sign-in.

As the crew started unpacking the truck, Brian's eyes scanned the chaotic remnants of Guldrin's all-nighter, taking in the scattered tools and parts. "Looks like someone had a productive night," he remarked casually, nodding toward the oil stained Guldrin, even though he cleaned up some, the evidence was still clear, who suddenly felt self-conscious under the scrutiny.

"Yeah, well, you could say that," Guldrin replied, brushing off the grime on his hands. He met Brian's gaze, searching for something beneath the surface, something more than just the charming delivery guy.

"Keep it up, and maybe you'll build something that'll really make a name for yourself around here," Brian said, his tone oddly encouraging, though Guldrin couldn't shake the sense that there was more to the man's words.

'I need to look into this kid… Who is he, and why is he here? What is he, 8, 10 at most?' Brian's mind whirled as he imprinted the kid's appearance in his mind.

"Let's just focus on the parts," Dominic said, noticing his lingering gaze, breaking the moment. "We've got a long day ahead of us."

As the group got back to work, Guldrin couldn't shake the feeling that beneath Brian's easy going demeanor lay secrets and intentions far more complex than they appeared. But for now, the chaos of the garage, his memories of last night, he was determined to keep forging his path among them, fast cars, good food, and all.