Maybe in another life-formula 1

Where I still lay

It started the moment they landed.

Angelus hadn't even stepped out of the paddock car before a camera flash hit his face through the windshield. 

The paddock was busy as always, but there was something different in the air, something heavier. Mechanics walked a little slower around him. Reporters tilted their heads with exaggerated sympathy. Photographers held their shots just a little longer than they needed to.

He wasn't just Angelus Reyes this weekend. He was the survivor returning to the scene.

The PR team did what they could, scheduled tightly controlled interviews, and gave strict time limits. But it didn't matter. Every headline had already been drafted.

"Ghosts of Eau Rouge: Reyes Returns to Spa"

He didn't sleep well the night before. Woke up twice, sweat sticking to his shirt, that metallic scent of blood and burning was always the last thing he dreamed.

....

Angelus didn't speak much that morning.

Brad had taken a room with him, ever since he had cornered him two days ago, he had watched Angelus like a hawk. It meant Angelus hadn't had much time alone with his thoughts. Which was both a blessing and a curse.

He showed up to the track walk late.

Max was already walking with a few engineers; the rest of the team was scattered ahead in small clusters. No one said anything when Angelus caught up, just subtle nods like it was written all over his face. 

Because everyone knew.

Angelus looked around at the circuit that used to be his favorite now the place where Angelus had nearly died. The place where, for days, no one knew if he'd ever wake up. Where drivers left flowers at the barriers. Where mechanics gasped behind garages. Where Max had locked himself in a hotel room and thrown a remote so hard it cracked the screen.

Now, Angelus walked the same path again, step by careful step. He moved slowly, not because he couldn't go faster, but because something in him refused to. He spoke with the few people walking around him, a way maybe to distract himself. 

The air felt heavier the closer they got to Eau Rouge and Radillon.

The trees still stood the same, tall and disinterested. The tarmac was smoother now. The barriers had been changed years ago, the paint newer, the angles adjusted—made safer, apparently.

Angelus slowed when they reached the corner.

Max noticed immediately. He doubled back instinctively, slowing to stand beside him. No words. Just presence.

Angelus stared at the barrier.

He tilted his head slightly, as if maybe if he just looked hard enough, he would see it.
The shattered carbon fiber, the smoke, a scrape in the asphalt, a crack in the barrier.

Anything.

Any proof that it happened.  Any evidence that he was there,  that the track remembered him. 

Max didn't breathe.

Angelus's voice was steady, but there was a tremor beneath it, something hollow and exhausted.

"It stayed in those barriers. Whatever I used to be... Whatever people keep looking for when they look at me now...I left it here the moment the car hit."

Max tried to say his name, but it came out as just a breath.

Angelus exhaled a slow and shaky laugh. "They changed the barriers, you know? Reinforced them. Painted over everything."