Work Text:
Morgan was on the way to his sister's wedding. Alex had opted to stay at the house, coming over in the morning. Punk rock played through the car's stereo, filling the car with a gritty guitar and punchy drums, drowning the dull hums of the road.
The car jolted.
Morgan's brain stopped working. The vague acknowledgment stirred in the back of his mind. I've been hit.
The car kept moving forward, it couldn't be that bad. He was about to tap the brake, try and pull over, but something was wrong. There was an odd feeling, like the car was dragging something, it was drifting. To the next lane over. His face started to pale, it was then he glanced at the center radio screen. It showed a display of the tire sensors. The back left tire was out.
Panic started to set in, his brain was going into overdrive, trying to take in every detail. Trying to survive. He was on route to hit another car- a blur of sparks flew across the road to his left, clearly another vehicle but so clouded by the fire shooting from the road around it, he couldn't make out a single detail.
Before he could register what he'd seen, he looked back to his right, trying to gently pull the wheel left, trying to avoid hitting another car. The steering wheel was fighting him, hed barely maintained any semblance of control since the beginning of the ordeal, but whatever he had was gone in an instant. His senses couldn't keep up. The car was moving, but he couldn't tell what was happening anymore. Am I going to die?
Images of every wreck anyone he’d seen pictures of ran through his mind, questions, flashes of his life, his love, Alex. Would Alex be ok?
He didn't get time to think about anything else. There was another jolt, harsher this time, throwing him forward into the steering wheel.
And there was nothing.