Chapter Text
The scene was devastating. Alex’s father crumbled onto the floor of the all too quiet room. In front of him sat a shattered picture frame displaying an old karting photo. Alex was in his father’s arms holding a trophy and smiling brightly. The man just stared at the photo blankly until his eyes began to well up and the tears started flowing. His breathing quickly became more and more laboured as he caressed the image of small baby Alex.
It was unsettling to see a man that had been such a pillar for him during childhood crumble completely before his eyes. It was even more unsettling to see Alex’s expression, staring down at his dad like his heart was shattering into countless tiny little shards.
“It's been so hard without you,” He whispered to the picture of Alex, “Please tell me this isn’t real, I never thought you’d be gone before me. A father should never live to see his son die.”
The silence in the room was tense. George didn’t know what to do, his gaze flickered between father and son, calculating his next move. Alex looked so fragile, George was scared to even approach him. All he could offer were empty words of consolation. Given the state Alex was in, there was a high probability that would break him completely.
In the end, George didn’t have to act at all, it was Alex who made the first move.
“Dad! It's me! I’m here!” He yelled, pleading for his father to notice him. despite knowing it was futile.
Much like when he screamed for Lando, there was no reaction, no possibility that his dad had heard him.
He couldn’t bear to see his dad cry for a second more. He began shaking the curtains, moving the furniture, flickering the lights, but it was all in vain. His father didn’t even seem jarred or confused at all, he looked around at the paranormal shaking in the room as if it was nothing. To him this wasn’t real, it was just in his head,a figment of his grief-stricken imagination.
Alex was growing desperate, his moves were becoming more aggressive, more noticeable. There was a nightmare-like mess in the room but nothing seemed to stir up Alex’s father who just looked like he’d given up.
“George what do I do?” Alex cried out “What can I do to make him realize I’m here?! How can I make this better? Please, George.”
Something in George’s chest tightened. He wanted to keep Alex from any harm, to shield Alex with his arms and make sure that nothing would ever make him as distressed as he was now.
He had to think of something. Quick.
“What about a letter?” Suggested George.
“A letter?”
“Not necessarily to let him know you’re here or even dead but maybe you could give him something to hold on to. Tell him everything you wish you would’ve told him.”
“Do you really think that a letter will make things better?” Alex asked; at that moment George swore he sounded just like a scared little kid.
Even if Alex’s tone was doubtful, he still went out to pick up a pen and a paper from his living room. Writing the letter had been surprisingly quick; it was clear that all the words on the page were often thought about but remained unsaid until that moment.
The words really stuck to George, it made him wish he’d said everything he had to say to his loved ones before he left.
Alex handed the letter to George and asked him to place it close where his father could easily notice it. George did as he was instructed and subtly let go of the letter next to Alex’s dad. Alex came into the room while his dad was halfway through the letter.
“Alex, you were such a sweet kid.” His father muttered, running his finger over the writing on the letter.
Alex just stared, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Come on,” George placed his arm on him, “Let’s go.”
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They sat on a bench, silently observing the scenery around them. The streets, with its people moving around and going about their day, painted an animated scene. Not for Alex, who was busy staring down every family that walked by.
George moved closer to Alex and took his hand, trying to provide some sort of comfort.
“How are you feeling?” Asked George quietly as to not startle Alex.
“As okay as I can be,” he took a long pause, “It’s awful. I despise seeing him like that.”
“I can imagine.”
The silence was deafening , filled with deep thought and an air of awkwardness.
“I don’t want to go through that again. Can we steer clear from the people we know?” Alex pleaded.
“Sure, I’m okay with that.” Secretly, George had been hoping that he would suggest that in the first place. “Is there anything you’d like to do?”
“No.” Alex replied without wasting his breath.
“What about later?” George asked, already making plans to cheer up Alex.
“Maybe?” He sighed.
George wrapped his arm around Alex’s shoulders and pulled him closer. Alex wasn’t startled at all, he just rested his head on George and let him play with his hair. Eventually, George felt Alex’s breath steady under him, followed by light snores.
Alex looked so unbelievably calm, it filled George's chest with warmth.
The day turned into night and Alex was yet to stir. Despite having plenty of time to think, George hadn’t come up with a plan to make Alex feel better. Instead, he had avoided the challenge by thinking of anything but Alex. Which proved to be impossible when Alex was nuzzling against him and muttering complete gibberish in his sleep.
The memory of his best friend looking so devastated kept coming back to him. He knew he couldn’t let Alex wake up without having a plan to distract him from his misery. More pranks on their friends were out of the question and so were any places that held memories. George had hit this road block hours ago and was yet to move on.
His thoughts were interrupted by the faint sounds of sobs. He looked around to find no one, the streets were empty, devoid of any life. Which was completely out of character for a place like Monaco. The sobs only grew louder and louder. He looked around again. Nothing.
Was he going insane?
He gently shook Alex to wake him up, it took him a minute but Alex began to stir, yawning and stretching simultaneously like a cat. He did not look very amused, glaring at George like he had personally wronged him.
“Alex. Do you hear that?”
“Hear what? What am I supposed to be hearing?” Alex groaned.
Quickly, Alex’s demeanor changed. He began to look around hastily. He hopped off the bench and ran off, George followed suit. They came to a sudden stop when he encountered a little girl with her head on her knees.
“George, we need to do something. We can’t leave a little girl alone, crying in the middle of the street all alone.”
The girl turned her head towards them, allowing them to see her tear streaked face. “... who's there? Please don’t hurt me!”
“Hello, I’m George and this is my friend Alex. We just wanted to check if you were okay. We don’t want to hurt you.”
“Uhm.. I’m Dori, short for Doriane,” she sniffled, “I was at home just a minute ago! I swear!, but I woke up here and I don’t know how to get back anymore.”
George came closer and reached out, she took his hand and he picked her up in his arms which made her giggle.
“Tell me more about yourself, Dori.” George smiled, “Whatever you think I should know about you.”
“I’m 8 and a half years old! I love cars and when I grow up I’m going to be a racing driver!” She replied with the sort of giddiness only a child can muster.
George’s smile faltered. When he picked up Doriane, he’d realized that she wasn’t alive. He knew she would never get to grow up at all.
“Did you know Alex and I are actually racing drivers?”
Were. He bitterly reminded himself.
“Really? That's so cool!!! Tell me everything about it! I need to know.”
They sat down on the floor, Doriane was on George’s lap while they told her stories of unlikely wins and challenging overtakes. She hung on every word and added bits and bobs of her own knowledge when she could.Eventually, she tired herself out and fell asleep, drooling all over George’s shirt.
“Who knew you were so good with kids?” Alex leaned on George and began to draw soothing circles on Doriane’s back, “She trusted you so quickly.”
George sighed “What are we going to do about her?”
“We'll figure it out, she’ll be alright.”