NASCAR Imagines

Ryan Reed

For josefsperfection, I had a similar request to this, so I'm leaving it like this. Hope you enjoed xxxxxx

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His heart leapt in his throat at the sight. His throat was parched, his mind was on overdrive, and his heart was skipping beat after beat as the deafening silence irked his soul. She was in that one, there was no way she'd walk away. it was too hard, too fast. Too devastating. He couldn't lose her. Not now, not today, not this soon. She was too young, she wasn't done yet. He couldn't lose her. 

Callie Richards is a star-- she places top 10 nearly every race, she's exxcellent at most and she's basically the whole show. She can pull risky moves and win and she can come back from bad accidents. She's insanely good. Racing for Andretti Autosport in the Verizon IndyCar, she excels.

After meeting Ryan Reed, her current boyfriend, she had a sudden drive-- no pun intended- to continue excelling. He was always there when he could be, and the Indianapolis was the one race she was stoked to win. The two were almost always attached at the hip, their loves and passion for racing being the basis for their relationship.

They both had monstrously huge hearts, were nothing but kind and accepting and loved deeply. They fell fast, they loved each other. They were the couple people envied and loved at the same time. They were the playful, teasing couple while also the gross romantic couple.

Debris was everywhere. Fires sprouted form engines, smoke erupted from the flames. Cages rattled as the scraps fell. Tires rolled, rubber flew, metal scraped the pavement. The cars were almost not recognizable. People were exiting them, ambulances driving out and paramedics rushing voer. He found himself trying to shove by Officials, trying to get to her. Things  were in slow motion, his yells and pleads begging to be with her nearly silent over the commotion. "I need to get to her, I need to be with her!" He shouted, shoving away. People stared, people cried. He shoved by, rushing toward the infield care center. A man offered up his golf cart for him, and he thanked him, his heart thudding in his ears.

They first met at one of her races. He caught her eye, her run being more than acceptable. After the race, he approached her and told her exactly what he thought of her. This led to her offering to show him around her garage, and numbers were exchanged. After this, the two found themselves on another date, and it all escalated from there. It's been months since then. Her family approved of Ryan, as did his of her. Their families and friends got along perfectly, and it seemed to good to be true.

Perhaps that's why this ordeal happened. All good things must come to an end. Nobody can ever remain truly happy until the end, right? Nobody deserves to be that happy, right? Or is that just how it seems. Is it possible to persevere and thrive in a world that's so unfair? Did he do something to deserve being left alone? Did she? Was karama meeting them head on? Was this God? Was the universe against them? 

No. That matter of the fact is, they both compete in a disaster filled sport, a dangerous sport. They knew what they were getting into the minute they buckled in. Life or death, or something similar. Maybe not that extreme, but it was dangerous. They both knew that. He took for granted the safety regulations NASCAR and each series related to it had. Nothing lasts forever, nobody is truly safe. It's the matter of the fact, however sorrow-filled it is.

Ryan burst through the doors,, eyes frantically searching for her. He yelled out her name, asking for her as he looked around. "Where is she? Where is she?" He yelled, a nurse bringing him away. She told him to remain calm--however, he couldn't. His hands and legs trembled, his eyes watered and his heart raced. The nurse spoke to him, but he couldn't hear her. All he could hear was his worry, his fear. He could taste the grief, and he felt sick.

"Sir, we're transporting her to the hospital--" His stomach flopped and face paled. He ran deeper inside the infield care center to the back, begging the paramedics to let him go. 

"Please, I need to. I need her, I'm begging you, please!" He yelled and finally, the men allowed him on. He climbed inside, tears falling from his worried eyes at the sight of the women he loved wrapped up in a blanket, casts, bandaged, stitches, tubes, and wires connected to her. His breath left his lungs, his hand darting to hers. "I love you." He whispered, but something told him she couldn't hear him. He bowed his head, a sob falling from his lips. "I love you."

The hospital was always an eerie place. A place, essentially, where people either came to be healed or to die. It was heaven and hell, all in one. It gifted some with life and took lives away. It gifted some with more years and took them away. Mistakes are made, as much as they pretend they aren't, and people pay the price. 

Ryan sat in the waiting room, thinking about the girl in the hospital bed. How could something she adored so dearly bring her to a place that did such horrendous things? How, and why? Everything was a question, everything was an enigma. He wanted answers, and yet there are no true answers. The confusion, the worry, the sorrow-- they were all the answer. Life happens, life gifts, and life takes. There's no balance. There's no karma. There's no destiny. Anything can be altered to end differently depending on the series of steps you take throughout.

He looked up, tears on his face as her family burst through the doors. Her mother ran to him, him rising to his feet to greet her. He opened his mouth to speak, to give them an update. To give them hope, but he couldn't. He looked down, wiping his mouth as tears fell from his bloodshot eyes. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I don't... I dunno how she is." Her mother gave him a sympathetic look as she wrapped him up in her arms.

The surgeon strolled in, just then and smiled at the sobbing family. "You here for Callie Richards?"

"Yes," Ryan choked out, sniffling. "That's us."

"She's okay. I can bring you all to her room." On the walk there, he described her injuries and steps to recovery and all the risks that still remained. His hands shook as he stepped in pass the doctor. He stopped beside her bed, his eyes raking her face. She had a breathing tube in her mouth, her hair pushed back. She had a bruise on her head from where her helmet hurt her. Her leg was wrapped in a thick cast and propped up on multiple pillows. A wrist brace was secured on her leg brace while the other was wrapped with a splint around two of her fingers. 

He shakily sat down beside her, his hand resting over hers as her mother ran inside and hugged her gently, crying on her shoulder. Callie remained asleep as Ryan shifted closer, wiping beneath his eyes. He leaned down, gently kissing her cheek before he rested his forehead on hers and brushed her hair back.

"I love you." He whispered , bit the inside of his lip as tears rolled down his cheeks. "I love you." 

A/N I'm leaving it there for mystery. Does she wake? Does she not? Who knows.