Chapter Text
A screech of the tyres, a touch on the white line, a counter steer that didn’t correct enough, it all ends up the same way. In the barrier, just slightly the wrong way and boom. Your whole life irreversibly changed. No one wants it, but people think that you automatically accept the risks when you start racing, but it’s not really the case. It’s just something that could happen, something not likely, but not entirely impossible either.
Lando hopes, prays that Max didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t predict the outcome. He’s absolutely desperate for Max to have been unconscious on impact, hates the thought of him being aware, feeling the pain that would’ve inevitably ricocheted through his body as the car slammed unceremoniously into the concrete wall. It had been four months, yet Lando still couldn’t watch that weekend’s racing. Couldn’t bare the fact that even though he didn’t race, refused to even go to the circuit on the Sunday after the crash in qualifying for the F2, he still didn’t see Max in hospital. Too much of a coward, too scared to face what remained of his best friend. Even now, four months later, nausea swirled in Lando’s stomach at the mere thought of visiting, although support had come from an unusual ally.
An incessant buzzing on the table drew his attention away from the spiralling thoughts in his overcrowded mind, his phone signalling that Billy had arrived to give him a lift to the hospital. Lando sent a quick text, letting his mate know he was on the way down to meet him. Lando locked up and tucked his keys into the coat pocket, zipping it up to make sure they were secure, jogging down the stairs and opening the door to Billy’s specially adapted Mercedes. “Hey mate, how’re you?”
”Hi Land, I’m good thanks, you ready? Exciting day, looking forward to finally getting Max out that shithole?”
“God, yes. I can’t wait. Really hope this recovery place is right for him, he’s come so far the last few weeks, it’d be awful if he went backwards now.” Lando nibbled on his bottom lip, making it red and sore.
”Honestly dude, they were fab with me, I’m sure they’ll take good care of Max too. How’s the speech coming?”
Lando smiled fondly, “Incredibly well. He’s worked so bloody hard. I seriously don’t know how he’s had the strength. It seems so tiring, but the keyboard is helping too, at least it takes the pressure off of him.”
”You’re acting like a proud dad, you goof.” Billy snarked good-naturedly.
Lando blushed as Billy pulled into the hospital car park, “I am proud though. Like, three months ago he was still in a fucking coma Bil. We were still living night by night to make sure he survived, like…now, now he actually has a chance at a future. And yeah, it’ll be hard and it’s not going to be the same future that he thought he’d have, but heck, he’s here, he’s still Max Fewtrell, he’s still my best mate. That’s more than enough for me right now.”
Billy’s eyes softened at Lando’s confession, “I get that Lan, I do. He’s strong though, he’ll get through it. He’s got plenty of support to help him. Now let’s go and get your man, it’s about time he got some fresh air.”
They walked side by side into the hospital and made their way to the private room Max had been situated in for the past four months. Billy went in first, sanitising his hands on entry to the room, Lando following behind him. “Alright mate, you ready to get outta here?” Billy announced, striding confidently over to the bed situated in the centre of the room.
Lando hung back, not wanting to overcrowd and overwhelm Max. He simply chose to observe the other man, seeing how his eyes were hooded and glassy, a sure sign he’d had speech therapy and was exhausted. The mask that covered Max’s mouth and nose was fogged over, his chest rising and falling rapidly, evidently struggling today. A small whine fell from Max’s throat, his fingers flexing on the sheets as he reached for the tablet that perched on the bedside table. His left hand held the tablet but Lando could tell he was really fighting against the tiredness as he typed into the device. (So ready, can’t wait). The tablet slipped out of his grip, falling and clattering onto the floor as Max groaned and let out a loud wail in protest. Lando could see the frustration take over Max’s features, eyes rolling upwards as he started to moan loudly, saliva and spit rolling down his chin as his head lolled to the left, eyes rolling backwards and limbs stiffening.
Billy turned back to Lando, gesturing for him to come forwards, “He needs you Land. C’mere.” Lando moved towards the bed, perching on Max’s left side. He reached out and brushed the curls away from his best friend’s eyes, running his hand down Max’s arm in a comforting gesture.
“Hey Fewts, it’s alright. You’re safe. Let’s wipe this stuff up yeah? Get you cleaned up and ready to move.” As Lando spoke, Max’s body began to shudder violently, rapid wheezes escaping through his constricted airway. Lando tensed, fear overtaking the rational part of his brain briefly before he slammed on the red emergency button above the bed, alerting the nurses and doctors on duty that assistance was required. “Buddy, it’s Lando, you’re alright, it’s ok, I’m just going to move your head so you don’t choke. It’s ok, you’re safe. Just ride it out Maxy, it’ll be over soon and you can rest. S’alright, it’s just me, you and Billy mate. Everything’s ok, yeah? That’s it Max, you’re doing brilliantly, it’s ok. I’ve got you bud, you’re alright. There we are, all over, just relax.”
By the time a nurse poked their head around the door, Max’s seizure had pretty much left completely, the only remnants were trembling fingers and a twitching cheek muscle that Lando soothed using his caressing thumb. Max fought against his drooping eyelids, breaths rattling unevenly as he tried to stay awake, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. Lando stroked through Max’s hair with his free hand, whispering softly, “Rest babes, s’ok. We’ll get the discharge papers sorted, we’re still going today don’t worry. Just get some sleep. You’ll feel better for it.”