Chapter Text
The hospital room felt foreign, like a prison that kept him chained to a life he no longer recognized. Steve’s body still ached from the impacts, but his soul was far more shattered. It wasn’t the physical pain that troubled him most, nor even the fame that stalked him after his endless accidents. What weighed on him was the creeping sense that he was losing control of his own life, reduced to a pawn on a board he had never chosen.
The sound of his father’s footsteps echoed at the doorway—a sound Steve had grown to dread. His figure was imposing, not because of his size, but because of the cold authority he radiated. Years had passed since Steve had ceased to be his “boy” and had instead become nothing more than a “project,” a driver who was supposed to win but never seemed good enough.
“Five accidents, Steve,” his father said, his tone more statement than question. His words fell on Steve like unbearable weight. “What did you expect? That this time would be different?”
Steve didn’t look at him. He had learned to ignore, to stay distant, as if that were the only way to protect himself. But his heart beat faster. Fear of accidents was no longer just fear of death; now it was fear of failing, of disappointing his father, of falling even lower.
“I don’t care what you think,” Steve said, jaw tightening. “I’m done with all of this.”
His father came closer, taking a seat beside the bed without waiting to be invited. There was no concern in his gestures, only a calculated calm. “You can’t walk away from this, Steve,” he continued. “You can’t just quit. This is your life, your career, everything you’ve ever known.”
The words cut deeper than Steve expected. The life his father had built for him had always been one without doubt, a life where every decision was made by someone else. And that life had begun to collapse the moment he walked away from Eddie and accepted Wayne’s dismissal as his chief mechanic.
Everything had gone downhill since then. His father had insisted Wayne be replaced by a more “competent” mechanic, but Steve knew the decision was personal, not professional. It was his father who had ordered him to leave Eddie behind, who told him he couldn’t remain a “spoiled kid” swayed by his emotions.
Now, after years of mistakes and failures, Steve realized he had never truly been free. He had blindly followed the path his father laid out. He had given up Eddie, and with him, a part of himself. He had let his father decide for him, even when, deep down, he knew it was destroying him.
A knot rose in his throat, but Steve shoved it aside. He couldn’t let frustration break him now. He looked at his father’s impassive face and did something he had never dared before: he made a choice.
“I’m going to make a deal,” Steve said, his voice firm. “Next race—if I win, nothing changes. Everything I’ve earned, everything I have, stays mine. But if the other driver you choose, besides me, beats me… then I’ll give it all up. My team, my independence, my way of competing. I’ll race under your rules, under your conditions.”
His father studied him in silence for a few seconds, his eyes calculating, weighing the offer. He was not a man who decided lightly, but something in Steve’s defiant stare made him finally nod.
“Deal,” his father answered with unsettling calm. “We’ll see if you can hold to your word.”
Steve said nothing, the words still hanging in the air. Fear of losing pressed on him, but there was something else in his chest. Not just fear of losing the race—fear of losing himself, of remaining a puppet in a game he had never chosen.
The door shut softly as his father rose to leave, abandoning him to his thoughts. The deal was struck, and now Steve had to face the only battle that truly mattered: the one against himself.
Three days later, Steve was putting his plan into motion. His final throw of the dice.
The engine roared beneath the hood, the familiar sound the only thing grounding him as he drove down the empty road leading out of the city. Night had fallen over Indianapolis, but the glow of the streetlights reflected off the wet asphalt, painting neon lines that almost seemed to guide him to his destination.
The steering wheel was cold under his hands, but the heat in his chest grew, a constant pressure keeping him alert. The road stretched endlessly before him, the landscape blurring into shadows, while in his mind the past replayed like a film he couldn’t turn off.
Every curve he took, every burst of acceleration, reminded him of the time he had spent behind a wheel. Time he no longer enjoyed. He wasn’t the boy who loved racing anymore. He didn’t feel that visceral thrill of gliding over the track, the rush of wind across his face as the car seemed to fly. Instead, there was only emptiness, a disconnection that had grown stronger since the choice that led him here.
He had stopped loving racing when he chose his father over Eddie. When he let his father’s words erase everything it had meant to be with him. His relationship with Eddie—the bond that had lit his soul—had been the spark behind his passion for cars, but all of that crumbled the moment his father ordered him to let go. To stay in his father’s “favor,” to keep the sponsors his father secured, Steve had sacrificed the one thing that gave his life meaning outside the track.
The decision to stay with his father had been logical, Steve thought. A professional survival act. Without the right sponsors, without his father’s backing, Steve knew he would have no future in F1. Sponsors like ELF or Red Bull, the ones Eddie had always dreamed of, were simply unreachable for someone without a figure like his father behind him. But in his heart, Steve knew it had all been a lie he’d told himself.
The glow of the city buildings faded as he drove farther out. The Munson garage lay on the outskirts, near an abandoned airfield, a place that felt torn from another era, where the shadows of the past always seemed to linger. The contrast between the engine’s roar and the suffocating silence of the surroundings filled him with unease, as if he were crossing a threshold into something he couldn’t quite grasp.
“What do you expect to find here?” Steve asked himself, as though the answer might reveal itself while the wheels spun over the asphalt. He knew what he wanted. He knew what he needed. But words weren’t enough to fill the emptiness gnawing at him.
He had spent years searching for solace in races that no longer mattered, in teams that never understood him, and now, as he neared the garage, he realized the only thing he had truly lost was Eddie. The one person who, for some inexplicable reason, had always understood him better than anyone else.
Nostalgia twisted together with pain, and Steve clenched his teeth, pressing harder on the accelerator as the silhouette of the abandoned airfield emerged on the horizon. The old runway lay cracked and broken, overgrown with weeds, echoing with a past that would never fade. Coming back here, seeing the Munson garage, felt like facing a truth he had ignored for years. This was where it had all begun, where the lost pieces of the puzzle seemed, slowly, to fall back into place.
The Munson garage looked desolate, a shell of what had once been a sanctuary of ingenuity and passion for cars. Steve stepped out of the car with a knot in his stomach, scanning the place as a pang of nostalgia hit him. The air carried the scent of oil, rusted metal, and the silence of what had once been a refuge. The garage didn’t just look abandoned—it felt frozen in time. Dust-covered tools, half-finished cars, piles of tires—everything seemed to whisper that time itself had stopped here.
The metal door was half open. Steve hesitated before approaching. Light streamed through the broken windows, casting a somber glow, as if the sun itself had stopped reaching this place long ago. But what caught his attention most was the figure in the corner, hands deep in grease, working as though dirt and years of decay didn’t matter.
Eddie.
Steve froze. He stood there, watching him from behind, the weight of all the years between them suddenly crushing down on him. Eddie was… different. Or rather, he was both haunting and fragile, tragically beautiful in his withered state. His eyes were sunken, his skin paler than Steve remembered, as though he had been fighting something far greater than time itself. His cheeks were hollow, his shoulders slumped, and the once wild, lively hair that used to frame his face now fell limp across his forehead, drained of all its energy.
Pain shot through Steve’s chest at the sight of him, so close to collapsing. Something was deeply wrong, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes gave the impression that he was slowly burning out from the inside. There was something about him that silently screamed “death,” as if his body could no longer bear the weight of his soul.
Eddie didn’t notice him. Not until Steve took a step forward, the sound of his shoe against the concrete echoing through the silence of the garage. It was a small noise, but it was enough. Eddie spun around sharply, surprise flashing in his eyes for a second before it darkened into fury.
In the blink of an eye, Eddie’s expression hardened, his gaze heavy with resentment and years of repressed pain. Steve had expected anger—after all, the last time they had seen each other had ended with unsaid words and broken promises. But what shocked him was how Eddie’s rage seemed to animate his broken body, as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Eddie growled, his voice rough and raw, like he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a long time. His eyes blazed with anger, but it wasn’t only rage. It was desperation, frustration, and something else Steve couldn’t name. Something that made it clear Eddie still held him accountable for everything that had happened.
Steve stepped back, unable to hold his gaze for long. He hadn’t come here to fight, not now, not after so many years of silence. But the words slipped out, sincere in a way that startled even him.
“I… I’m not here to fight, Eddie,” he said, his voice low, almost unsteady. “I just… I want to see Wayne. I need to talk to him.”
Eddie stared at him, the tension between them taut as a wire about to snap. Finally, Eddie let out a sigh, heavier than the air between them, and for a moment, his expression emptied. As if all the anger he’d carried for years had drained away in a single breath.
Then his lips parted, and the words that came were nothing like what Steve expected.
“Wayne’s not here anymore,” Eddie said, his voice flat, stripped of emotion. “He died a few year ago.”
The impact hit Steve like a train. His stomach twisted, his mind reeled, and for a moment the world froze around him. The image of Wayne—the man who had always been his mentor and guide, the one who had built the team with Eddie, who had stood by him through every race—shattered before his eyes as if he’d never existed.
“What…? How…?” Steve barely managed to ask, his voice broken with disbelief. It wasn’t possible. Wayne had been so strong, so alive. How could it be? How could he have died so suddenly—and Eddie…?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve whispered, the pain finally piercing through his chest.
Eddie stared at him, and although fury burned in his eyes, there was something else. Something that looked like a mix of sadness and surrender. The rage that seemed to eat him alive from the inside suddenly burned out. His shoulders sagged, his expression blurred, and the light in his eyes vanished, leaving him emptier than before. As if all the anger he had stored for years had been extinguished the very moment Steve walked in.
“I called you, Steve,” Eddie said, his voice broken but deadly calm. “Years ago, I called. But… I stopped after that. I saw you reject me, I saw you hang up because you were busy with something way more important. You never called me back, and I… I didn’t know what else to do.”
The weight of those words stopped Steve cold. Reality hit him in the face like a freight train: Eddie had tried to reach out, had tried to tell him something important, and he… had ignored him.
“I… I didn’t know…” Steve began, but the words stuck in his throat. Regret was suffocating him. “I didn’t know it was you… I was in a photoshoot, I was… distracted, I didn’t think—”
Eddie cut him off with a gesture of indifference.
He had said everything he needed to say, but his eyes, now stripped of all emotion, made it clear: nothing remained of the person Steve once knew. The spark, the chaos, the wild energy Eddie had always carried—it was gone. All that was left was a void, a shadow of who he used to be.
Fear seized Steve as he looked at Eddie, who didn’t even seem angry anymore, just utterly apathetic, as if the fight had ended for him long ago. As if everything he once cared about had evaporated, leaving him hollow.
Steve felt like his heart had been torn out of his chest. Wayne, the man who had always been their anchor, was gone. And Eddie… Eddie wasn’t the Eddie he remembered, the reckless, brilliant boy who had made everything easier, messier, more alive.
The anguish of realizing he hadn’t only lost Wayne, but Eddie too, crashed into Steve all at once. He didn’t know what else to say, what else to do. The past had caught up with him, and the truth was tearing him apart.
Steve looked at Eddie, feeling the crushing weight of the years that had stretched between them, and the darkness that now clung to his old friend. The Munson workshop was cold, silent, except for the distant rattle of some engine failing in a forgotten corner. The air was thick with the smell of rust, grease, and something dead—like time itself had stopped here, abandoned by everyone except Eddie.
A knot twisted in Steve’s stomach. How had he gotten here? How had he gone so far, only to lose himself and, in the process, lose Eddie too? He looked at the man who had once been his partner in everything—his support, his confidant, the only one who had given him everything without asking for anything in return. And still, Steve had failed him. He had left Eddie behind out of fear, out of pride, out of a stupid loyalty to his father that, in the end, had led him straight to destruction.
But now, after so many years and five near-fatal accidents, Steve knew there was no going back. He knew Eddie was his only option. The only one who could save him. And he knew that if he didn’t act now, another season would go to hell and there would be no room left for regrets. So, carrying the weight of that decision on his shoulders, he stepped closer to Eddie with the same resolve he felt when revving up the engine before a race.
“Eddie,” Steve said, his voice steady though trembling inside, “I know this isn’t easy, and I know it might sound ridiculous after everything that’s happened. But I need you to listen to me, please.”
Eddie lifted his gaze, and for a second, those empty eyes flickered with something like confusion. As if he couldn’t quite tell if Steve was serious or if life was just playing another cruel trick, pushing them apart once more.
“Listen to me carefully,” Steve continued, stepping toward him. The air between them grew heavier, as if an invisible wall rose higher to separate them. Eddie said nothing, but the look in his eyes made it clear he was waiting—waiting for Steve to say something that could make sense of all this chaos.
“I need you to be my lead mechanic, Eddie,” Steve blurted out, straight to the point. The confession fell from his lips as if it were the last chance he’d ever get to say it. And yet, his voice didn’t falter. He knew that if he said it firmly, Eddie would have to hear him.
“What?” Eddie frowned, clearly thrown off. Steve, seeing his confusion, took a step back, already rushing to explain himself.
“Eddie, I know this sounds insane, and you might not even believe me, but… after everything that’s happened, after the way everything’s gone to hell these past years—I know you’re the only one who can save me. The mechanics my father forced on me are a disaster, there’s no chemistry, nothing. I’ve lost more than I’ve won because of constant failures, and the crashes never stop. Every time I get behind the wheel, I feel like I’m going to die right there. I don’t care what the doctors say, I don’t care what my father says. I’m at my breaking point. And if I don’t change this now, my career is finished—or I’ll be dead.”
Eddie looked at him, skeptical, his face etched with the years of solitude and bitterness. The rage he’d shown earlier had vanished, leaving only a deeper emptiness. And yet, Steve’s eyes burned with intensity, as if he were ready to sacrifice everything for one last chance—for one last hope.
“You don’t have to do this, Steve,” Eddie said, his voice as soft as a summer breeze but heavy with despair. “I’m not a mechanic anymore. Not like that.”
“I don’t care,” Steve shot back instantly, louder than he thought he could be. His heart was pounding, but he was more determined than ever. “I don’t care. The only thing that matters is that you’re the best at what you do, Eddie. And I can’t go on without you. You know how to work with a car, with an engine—you know how to read the track and everything that comes with it. There’s no one else who can do it better than you… I don’t trust anyone else.”
Eddie looked lost, as if Steve’s words were a puzzle he couldn’t piece together. But Steve wasn’t about to give up that easily. He was done feeling powerless, done being his father’s puppet, done playing games and wearing masks he’d outgrown years ago. It was time for at least one part of his life to be genuine, to be real. And somehow, Eddie still embodied that.
“I’m offering you the role of lead mechanic, Eddie. No restrictions, no budget caps, no one hovering over you telling you what to do. Total freedom. Full control of the team, the car, everything. If it’s money holding you back, forget it—I’ll give you whatever you need. No questions asked.”
Steve swallowed hard, and for the first time in a very long while, he felt completely vulnerable. Stripped bare. He met Eddie’s eyes, desperate for a flicker, a spark, anything that might tell him what Eddie was thinking.
But Eddie didn’t speak. Not for a long time. And with every second of silence, Steve felt the chance to set things right slip further from his grasp, like sand falling through his fingers. The quiet roared in his ears, each moment stretching tighter and tighter, wound with unbearable tension. His heartbeat was thunder in his chest, pounding, waiting, pleading.
Finally, Eddie spoke. His voice was soft, almost like water slipping over stone.
“Why me? Why now? Why after everything that’s happened?”
There was no accusation in his tone, not exactly. Only a sorrowful edge, a distrust that cut deeper than any anger could. And Steve realized then that the chasm between them was even wider than he’d feared.
He drew in a breath, forcing himself to pause before he answered. He knew Eddie wouldn’t accept half-truths or pretty promises. Eddie needed something real—proof that this wasn’t about desperation or convenience, that Steve wasn’t simply cornered.
“Because you’re the only one who can save me, Eddie. And more than that… because without you, I have nothing. I am nothing without you.”
Eddie’s face was unreadable, expression frozen, as if the weight of those words hung suspended in the air, too heavy to fall.
Steve didn’t know what would come next, but somewhere deep inside, he felt it—that there was still something left in Eddie. Something that could be the start of a new chance. Not just for the team, but for the wreck of a relationship they had both abandoned, left to rot in silence.
And whether or not he knew how, Steve was ready to fight for it. For all of it.
He didn’t know how much time had passed since he’d made the offer. It felt as if time itself had stopped between them, locking them in a limbo where nothing either of them said could break through. Eddie remained silent, motionless. It was as if he were hearing Steve from behind an invisible wall, too far away to truly reach him.
The workshop light was dim, casting the two of them in a muted glow, as though they were actors trapped in a stage play with no audience. Steve’s words lingered in the air, sharp in their clarity, raw in their honesty—yet Eddie didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. He didn’t look at Steve with the fire he once had, the fire that had carried their late-night banter until sunrise. He didn’t challenge him with that teasing spark that had always lit his eyes.
Instead, he just sat there, hunched forward, staring at the ground like it was the only safe place left. And Steve’s heart cracked at the sight of him—not the bold, unruly Eddie who could make anyone feel at home, who could conjure laughter even in the darkest corners. No. What sat in front of him now was something else entirely.
A shadow. A faded, broken remnant of the boy Steve had once known.
Eddie… Steve thought, but the word never left his mouth. The sound of it would be too hollow, too full of pain. The air between them was heavy, thick enough to choke on. For a brief, terrible moment, Steve wondered if he’d made a mistake in coming here at all. Maybe Eddie wasn’t the same. Maybe Steve himself wasn’t, either.
“Eddie?” he tried again, the word barely more than a whisper. This time, his voice carried a note of desperation that pressed hard against his ribs. He needed to believe there was still something in Eddie that could wake, something that could cut through the icy silence he’d built around himself.
And finally, Eddie lifted his gaze. Just for a second. Just long enough for Steve to see it.
The emptiness.
It wasn’t only the distance, or the years of silence, or even the abandonment. It wasn’t only Wayne’s death, though the weight of that was carved into him, too. What Steve saw in Eddie’s eyes was something far more devastating: an exhaustion that reached his bones, a distrust so complete it had hollowed him out.
And in that moment, Steve understood. Eddie hadn’t just drifted away. He had fallen.
Gone was the loud, reckless, burning soul he had once loved. What remained was a ghost.
Steve’s chest tightened with the urge to beg forgiveness, to spill the apologies he’d held back all these years, to admit he’d been wrong to leave, wrong to obey his father instead of fighting for what truly mattered. But how could he say it now? Eddie didn’t look like he wanted to hear. And maybe the words no longer mattered anyway.
“You know…” Eddie’s voice came quiet, strained, as though every syllable cost him. “I don’t get it. What do you even expect from me? Do you honestly think I can just… walk back into this? That everything can go back to how it was?”
Steve’s mouth opened, but nothing came. How could he explain that this wasn’t about convenience or a second chance at glory—that what he was offering wasn’t just professional, but personal? That it was, in a way, his last attempt to give them both a shot at healing?
“I—” Steve started, then faltered. Empty reasons would only sound hollow. Eddie deserved something more. Something real.
But Steve wasn’t sure he could give it.
Eddie watched him for a moment, almost as if he were waiting for the boy he once knew to reappear. But when he didn’t, Eddie dropped his gaze again, retreating behind the invisible walls he’d built around himself.
Steve’s throat tightened. Frustration clawed at him, threatening to consume him whole. The guilt pressed heavier, sharper—the wasted years, the missed chances, the chasm that now yawned between them like something unbridgeable.
And yet, it wasn’t just the guilt that hurt. It was the sight of Eddie himself—the way his light had burned out, leaving nothing but dim embers.
“Eddie…” Steve finally said, his voice stripped of everything but raw sincerity. The weight of exhaustion pulled on him as he leaned forward, trying to break through the barricade around Eddie’s heart.
“I need you.” The words were quiet, but sharp, cutting straight through him. “I need you on my team. But more than that… I need you.”
Eddie finally looked up, but his expression didn’t shift. There was no anger, no visible pain. Just a terrifying calm, as if nothing mattered anymore.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Steve.” His words were cold, almost apathetic, and in them Steve felt the abyss that now stretched between them. Distrust was etched into every gesture, every unsaid word. And that distrust cut deeper than any scolding, deeper than indifference itself. Eddie’s doubt was the final proof that nothing remained of the friendship they once had.
It felt like someone had torn Steve’s soul straight out of him.
For a moment, in that suffocating silence, words felt useless. The damage was already done, and the scars between them ran deeper than Steve had ever realized. And yet, giving up wasn’t an option. He knew he had come this far for a reason. He knew the love they once shared—though buried under layers of hurt and silence—was still there, waiting to be uncovered. Maybe it only needed time.
I just need him to give me a chance, Steve thought, but he didn’t dare say it aloud. Not now.
So he waited. And waiting was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
Steve left the shop in silence, his heart pounding hard against his ribs, the weight of his thoughts trailing him like a shadow. He had no idea what Eddie was thinking, no clue if anything written in that contract could change his mind. All he knew was that his life, his career, his very survival depended on this. The fear of dying—of becoming nothing more than the next casualty in a string of accidents—had dragged him here. And now, he was leaving Eddie with the choice of whether or not to save him.
At the far end of the lot, his battered car sat strapped to the trailer, silent, its engine long cooled. Steve hadn’t wanted anyone else to see it, hadn’t wanted them to realize how bad things had gotten. The vehicle still bore the scars of every crash, almost unrecognizable beneath the dents, the burns, and streaks of dried blood staining the paint.
Kneeling beside it, Steve traced the marks with his eyes, absorbing every flaw, every wound of the machine with a raw intensity he hadn’t felt in years. He had been so young when he started racing—so full of energy, so alive. But all of that had changed. Now, every lap was a gamble. Every turn felt like an invitation to disaster. How much longer could he keep this up? How many crashes would it take before he finally understood he couldn’t keep going like this?
With a long breath, he stood and turned back toward the shop. Its broken windows, its flickering lights fighting against the dark, the layers of dust coating the workbenches—everything spoke of decay. And in a cruel way, that decay mirrored Eddie himself. The boy who once burned brighter than anyone, who had been nothing but spark and chaos, was now trapped here, buried in silence, like he’d been waiting for time itself to erase him.
The shop was as forgotten as Eddie. And yet Steve could still feel something inside it. Something Eddie hadn’t managed to let die completely. Because if Steve had come here—if he’d forced himself through all that fear to stand in this place—it was because some part of him still needed Eddie. Needed the fire they once shared.
From across the shop floor, he saw Eddie perched on a workbench, staring at the contract as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to read it. His posture hit Steve like a blow—Eddie was locked inside his own head, so tangled in his pain that he couldn’t even see what Steve was really offering. But Steve understood. Fear had brought them both here, and fear would decide everything.
He moved closer, slow, deliberate. He didn’t want to push. The contract had been handed over quietly, almost like a last prayer. A fragile hope that Eddie might, somehow, say yes.
“Here it is,” Steve murmured, barely raising his voice. “No budget limits. No restrictions. Just you and me. Just you and the car. If you want it, the chief mechanic’s position is yours.”
Eddie didn’t answer. He didn’t even look up right away. But Steve noticed his hands tremble as they held the paper, saw how even a single page could shake the confidence Eddie had once carried so easily. It broke him, watching Eddie fight against his own doubt.
Steve stepped back, scanning the cluttered shop—oil stains on the floor, rusting tools, posters of long-dead sponsors peeling from the walls. Everything around him was a portrait of someone who had let the world pass them by. And the truth sank in: Eddie wasn’t just broken. He had stopped believing in himself a long time ago.
Steve thought of his own fear—the endless crashes, the haunting knowledge that one more mistake could kill him. He wasn’t there out of ambition. He wasn’t there for glory. He was there because the thought of dying under his father’s rules terrified him more than anything. And Eddie… Eddie was the only one who had ever made him feel like he could live.
At last, Eddie lifted his eyes, though he said nothing. His gaze was empty, but there was something else buried deep inside—hesitation, pain, conflict. Steve held his breath, watching him wrestle with a choice neither of them could take lightly.
He stepped closer, breaking the silence.
“I’m not here just because of the contract, Eddie. I’m here because…” He faltered, words fighting to form. “Because I’m scared. I’m scared this is my last year. That my mistakes will end me. And I’m not…” He swallowed, forcing the truth out. “I’m not tired of racing. But I’m done racing with the mechanics my father keeps forcing on me. I don’t want to die because of them.”
Eddie didn’t move, didn’t flinch. The contract remained in his hands, wrinkled under his grip. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, small—like someone confessing a secret he’d rather keep hidden.
“What if I can’t…?” He left the thought unfinished, but Steve heard the fear threaded through every syllable.
“I know.” Steve’s voice was steady, sure. “I know, Eddie. But I don’t have another choice.”
There was a long silence. Then Eddie dropped his gaze, inhaling deeply, his shoulders softening the slightest fraction.
“…Alright,” he whispered. The word was heavy, uncertain, but it was an answer. It was enough.
Relief washed over Steve—uneven, imperfect, but real. Eddie had said yes. Not with the faith Steve longed for, not with the spark he remembered, but he had said it. That was more than Steve could have asked for.
“Thank you, Eddie,” was all he managed, the words trembling with both gratitude and fear.
As the echo of his voice lingered in the hollow shop, Steve couldn’t stop the questions clawing at him. Could this be the start of mending what they’d lost? Or was it just the final thread keeping them from falling apart completely?
Hours later, as he drove away from the Munson garage, the lights of Indianapolis glimmered on the horizon, but all he saw was darkness. He had done the right thing coming here. He was sure of it. But that didn’t quiet the storm inside him. Something had shifted between them, something vital. Whether it was the first step toward healing or the last nail in the coffin of their friendship—only time would tell.
Driving back to his hotel, every mile brought him closer to the shadows he had tried to escape for years. The worst part wasn’t the fear gnawing at him now, but the bitter certainty that Eddie had been right all along to doubt him. Not only because Steve had walked away without a word, but because he had committed the most unforgivable mistake of all: ignoring Eddie’s pain—his desperate call for help—over something as shallow as convenience.
The memory of that call still hammered in his head. It was sharper now, more vivid than ever, a ghost he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life. Eddie on the other end of the line, sobbing, voice broken, words stumbling between tears. Steve, trapped in a photo shoot with sponsors, ending the call in a careless swipe, like it meant nothing. I’m busy. Those two words echoed in him like knives, cutting deeper each time he remembered.
Eddie had called that night, right after Wayne’s death. Steve remembered perfectly the way he’d smirked at Eddie’s incoherent rambling before hanging up. That crack in Eddie’s voice, the raw sound of grief… and what had Steve done? He had dismissed it. Cut him off without hesitation, as though Eddie were nothing but an inconvenience. As though all that mattered were the damned photos, the spotless image, the deal his father was negotiating. A contract Steve had never really wanted, tied to a world that was never his, a world that had dragged him away from the only thing that had ever mattered.
It hit him now how stupid he had been. How blind. He had convinced himself that staying in his father’s good graces, keeping the sponsors happy, chasing fame—that was what he needed. And in doing so, he had left Eddie to fall apart alone, swallowed by grief. Eddie had never been the type to ask for help. Steve knew that better than anyone. But that night, Eddie had asked. And Steve, with the arrogance of success and the carelessness of youth, had ignored him.
The regret ate at him, hollowing him out. But what hurt the most wasn’t that he had let Eddie go—it was the selfishness of not recognizing what Eddie truly meant to him. Eddie had been his anchor, his partner, his twin flame in the chaos of racing. The only one who understood him without words, the one who could make him laugh even when everything else was falling apart. And Steve had thrown it away, not because he didn’t care, but because he wasn’t mature enough to see that in chasing his father’s dream, he had abandoned his own.
Eddie would never forgive him for that. And the truth was, Steve didn’t forgive himself either.
When he finally pulled into the hotel and turned the key in the ignition, he allowed himself a moment of stillness. With the engine silent, he stayed there, hands gripping the wheel, mind racing. But underneath the noise of guilt and fear, something else was beginning to take shape.
Steve knew he had screwed up. But he also knew this wasn’t the end. He wasn’t ready to walk away from racing—not yet. The fear of death, of burning out on a track, weighed on him like a stone, but there was something he couldn’t deny: he still loved it.
Not the money. Not the contracts. Not the sponsors. What drove him was the roar of the engine, the speed, the pure adrenaline that burned through his veins. That was the part he couldn’t let go of. Even if the crashes had pushed him to the edge, even if his team had failed him over and over, he couldn’t quit. It was the only thing he knew how to do.
What he hated—what was truly killing him—was everything around it. His father’s empty promises. The constant pressure. The endless demand to be someone he wasn’t. The perfect image he had to maintain no matter what. That was the cage. Not the racing itself. That was what had driven him away from the boy he used to be, from the reason he’d fallen in love with the sport in the first place.
But now, after all these years, there was something he could still take back. Something that might not heal everything, but could at least start to mend the cracks. Eddie. He could try, at least, to help Eddie reclaim some piece of what he had lost. And maybe—just maybe—in doing so, Steve could heal too. Maybe together they could find a way forward. Not just on the track, but in life.
Steve was determined not to let Eddie fall apart any further. Eddie might not know it yet, but Steve was there, and he wasn’t going anywhere. He had lost him once, but he wasn’t going to let it happen again. Taking care of him, helping him climb out of the dark—that was his purpose now.
With that thought, Steve lifted his gaze toward the city lights shimmering beyond the car window, as if somewhere out there he could find the answer he was searching for. Eddie wasn’t the only one who had changed. Steve had too, even if he hadn’t fully realized it until now. But he understood something at last: what truly mattered wasn’t fame or success, but the people who stood beside you—the ones you couldn’t afford to lose. And in that moment, Steve knew he would never let Eddie fade into just another shadow of his past.
He was going to bring him back.
It was the only thing that mattered.