everyone had at least tried to move on. everyone except pope.

he was locked in on this heist, convinced it could change everything for him and for the rest of them. it didn’t take long for the others to fall in line, not after all the pushing and persistence. pope had always been like that.

ex special forces, all of them. they looked at the $17k like it was some kind of blessing dropped straight into their laps. too easy, almost suspicious. map the route, get in, get out, take the money. simple. that’s what they told themselves.

and they were trained enough to believe it.

especially now that benny had something to prove, stepping into a whole new life as a boxer.

but there was still something missing.

you.

no one wanted to be the one to reach out. not after the way things ended, not when it was clear you were done with all of it. you’d moved on. built something different.

didn’t matter.

they needed you before they could even think about heading to brazil, before the safehouse, before any of it.

so pope sent ben.

and yeah, you weren’t exactly thrilled about it.

didn’t really matter though. ben was already there, sitting on your couch like he belonged, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight. his eyes stayed on yours, steady but unsure.

“look,” he said, voice low, careful. “i know you left all that behind… but it’s seventeen grand.”

there it was.

and then yeah, the look. the one he knew would get to you.

“pope’s been on this guy for years,” he added, softer now. “we gotta help him. money or not.”

a pause.

“we owe him that much.”