He saw the shadow move before he actually registered the sound, the click. Instinct and surprise should have made him move faster, but he was almost on the shadow before he noticed it, before it moved. It was no tackle, more like tripping, legs tangling with his, a heavier body and an amazingly solid fist punching into his lower back even while he twisted around to meet his attacker head-on. That faint filtered light from the windows and the kitchen shone off skin and a white t-shirt. A mostly white t-shirt. So glaring now even in the half-light and how had he missed it? How had he missed Dom sitting in his living room?
Last place he expected him to be. He should be in Mexico. Anywhere.
Pretty epic canon-divergence that deals in responsibilities and consequences.