The Team // A Formula One AU

Charles

I gasp awake.

Who is it? Not Max, it's in front of me.

Carlos.

I lie still but move my eyes up to his bunk. It's far too dark to see anything so I close my eyes again and listen. He's breathing so fast. Crying. Whimpering and sniffing.

"Carlos?" I whisper into the darkness and he falls silent. "Are you okay?"

"I..." He coughs quietly. "Charles?"

"Yeah." I reach for my phone under my pillow and turn on its torch for some light. His face is tear stained and scared.

"What happened?"

"I... I had a nightmare. It's okay." He leans out of his bunk, looking for something. The torch reveals a tiny shiny teardrop as it falls to the floor. He exhales. "It's okay."

"Okay..." What to say now? Go back to sleep?

"It was about Lando."

"What happened?" A long pause. Carlos sighs shakily.

"He... died. We were playing in the Bernabeu in Madrid. I... He was... It's..."

"It's okay." I get out of bed and walk over to his bunk. A nightmare about his best friend. Carlos swallows and edges further out of his covers, dying to check Lando's bunk.

"I have nightmares too sometimes. Just try to forget about it."

"But what if..."

"Don't worry about it. Lando's sleeping. We're all okay."

He smiles weakly. "Thanks Charles."

"It's nothing. We're going to the track early tomorrow. Get some rest."

"I... I don't think I can sleep again."

I sigh and sit on the edge of his bed. He saw his best friend die. It's understandable.

"Want some water?" I reach down to pick up his bottle from beside the bed and hand it to him. He sips it gratefully.

"Thanks." He rubs his eyes to expel the last of the tears and adds quietly, "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"That's okay." I sip my own water and think about what to say next. I'm not good at comforting people. I'm usually either listening silent for hours or monologuing some stupid story from my imagination. Maybe that's what I should do now.

"Okay. Once there was a boy named... Max. He was in a racing team called Dutch Dragons and he loved eating pies. In fact, he loved them so much that he ate them constantly. As a result, Max cost his catering team so much money they couldn't afford to buy him any racing shoes. He had to race barefoot, and his feet got so dirty with dust and oil that he couldn't even wash it out in the showers. Everyone laughed at him. The end."

I look up for Carlos' reaction. Maybe it wasn't as hilarious as usual but we're both tired so I hope it doesn't matter. Carlos is smiling, finally, but I hear stifled laughter from above my bed. Max. I look over and laugh too. How long has he been awake?

"You're so weird," Max whispers louder than a whisper should be. I wander over to bed and look back over to Carlos. He rests his head on his pillow and whispers into the new darkness.

"Charles?"

"Yes?"

"Um... Is Lando really okay?"

"Lando's just there in his bed, where he always is, twitching like an electrode. Just like he always will be."

"Thanks, Charles."

"Anytime."

"Goodnight."

I smile. "Night Carlos."