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Lando’s right arm has always gotten broken in some way, either Lando slammed it into a wall, fell on his race car, got a whiplash (but with his arm somehow) or gotten his arm stuck and pulled it out too hard. Lando has a broken wrist, his left wrist snagged on the crib and Lando has to have a cast now. Just as he thought life was done hurting him, his right arm snagged in the doorframe. “No, fuck, no please no.” He grabs his arm and winces, pulling, he pulls it to the side and then the other side and finally with enough force... crack!! He gets it free, he can’t move his arm, and it hurts like hell. “Ow ow ow!” He whimpers. “This isn’t fair, you stupid arm!” He hits it and winces. “Hey Lando, are you okay?” An engineer asks. “Perfect! I’m perfect. My wrist... my wrist is just fine.”
Lando gestures with his left hand. “Good, but your arm?” Lando looks at his right arm. “It’s okay, mate. No more broken arms.” The engineer nods and leaves, Lando allows himself to burst into tears once the engineer is gone. “I don’t want another broken arm! Why me- why me??” He yells, sobbing loudly. “I don’t-“ he coughs. “Wan’ more!” Lando continues crying his heart out, Oscar isn’t there to help, so Lando has to ride out his meltdown and Little episode by himself and go to get his race suit off. After that painful experience, he leaves the circuit and walks to the hospital, still sniffling. Many people are wide eyed to see Lando out and about like that.
In the hospital, he goes up to the ER. “Hello there.” The receptionist smiles. “H-hello.” Lando sniffles. “I uhm.” He sniffles again. “N-need to see a doctor, stat. My right arm, it’s broken.” He sniffles yet again. “Of course, just a wait a second.” Lando goes to the waiting room and sits down. He’s never done this without Oscar before, or that stupid pillow or without any comfort at all. After a while, he gets to see a doctor. After getting a cast as usual, he goes back to the circuit and continues his sniffling while walking. He forgot his phone and stuff. “Heyy! Lando!” Carlos grins. “Lovely to- to see you too.” Lando responds, grabbing his bag with his mouth. “See you next race!” Carlos calls out happily, going to find Fernando.
Lando sniffles before starting his way to the hotel. He stands and waits by the traffic light. Oscar must be worried sick, oh what wouldn’t Lando do to cry to Oscar. “Sharp, mate.” Lewis remarks, Lando gets scared a little. “Oh yeah, sharp... sharp.” He mutters behind the bag. “Broken arm?” Lando nods. “Ouch.” Lewis starts walking away and Lando crosses the road. He goes to his hotel room and drops the bag. He can’t text Oscar, but he can call Oscar. He does that. “Oscar Piastri speaking.” Oscar says. “Hey mate.” Lando replies, sounding shaky. “Oh, hey Lando!” Oscar sounds cheerful. “I’m at uhh, at George’s little after party thing, can’t talk now.” Lando feels sad again. “Oh..”
“Okay, I understand.” He smiles. “See you, mate.” Oscar hangs up and Lando swallows hard. No one’s going to help Lando, maybe Valtteri would, but Valtteri is a last resort, he’s far more busy. “Please don’t regress, please don’t regress, Lando, you know better.” He whines. But it doesn’t work, he regresses and just flops to the floor, he rolls onto his back and looks up at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Oscar said if Lando slipped, he should call Oscar, but Lando doesn’t want to bother Oscar... this is going to hurt really bad for the few weeks he’s going to wear a cast.