Away We Go • 2 • Formula One

Chapter 6

five and a half thousand word chapter... you're welcome!

*trigger warnings later on*

~***~

I didn't want to see anyone following the crash. If I could have my way, I would hide out in my driver cabin until everyone at the circuit had gone home, and then leave all on my lonesome just to avoid the judgement. Deep down I knew what I wanted was unrealistic and childish. The adult part of me was disappointed in how I initially reacted and knew that the mature thing to do was head to the garage and apologise in person.

My time after the accident was spent at the medical centre. Whilst doctors performed routine tests to make sure my body hadn't experienced any significant trauma, my mind ran through all the possible ways I could have avoided the outcome. I should've turned in at a gentler angle, I should've braked a little earlier, I should've caught the mistake before getting a wheel on the grass... but I didn't. There was a small relief that I hadn't crashed into anyone else, or endangered the other drivers in any way. I did, however, impede my teammate's flying lap. I didn't want to find out qualifying results until after I spoke to my team in order to deal with the guilt one issue at a time.

"You'll probably be aching for a while so I recommend relaxing tonight, maybe do a muscle soak," the doctor announced, looking down at his clipboard. He then looked up at me and smiled sympathetically. "Whilst your lungs came back clear, if you experience any shortness of breath, call triple zero straight away."

"Thanks for all your help." I nodded my head, absentmindedly tugging my lower lip between my teeth.

"Should I let your PO in?" The doctor asked. Wordlessly, I nodded my head. My gaze dropped to my lap as he moved to the door in my peripheral vision. Damien's shoes were the first thing I saw before a gentle hand placed on my shoulder. The contact made me want to groan in pain as the ache spread further than the contact, but I kept my bottom lip held tightly in between my teeth.

"Let's get you changed, yeah?" Damien suggested, however it was more like a demand. He dropped my bag of clothes at my feet. I could see my Mercedes team shirt and a pair of jeans poking through the gap in the zip.

My body was sore to move so I really needed Damien's help getting out of my racing suit. Luckily, he had dealt with me in much worse states and in much less clothing. D was a good friend.

Once I was all changed, Damien helped me into a standing position. Every step I took felt unstable and sent a burning sensation throughout my muscles. I could only hope that a hot bath later would put me in a better and less pained state for tomorrow's race or else my season start will go from disappointing to abysmal. My arm linked loosely with D's for an extra dose of support as we began the pained journey to the Mercedes garage.

I was always going to have to deal with the media upon leaving. As the cameras and microphones were shoved in my face, I forced a polite smile. Questions were being screamed in my direction and I clutched a little tighter to Damien's arm.

"I've been cleared to race tomorrow," I said as a general comment. Most of the questions were about my abilities to race, or my current condition. I didn't want to go into too much detail, or let them know how much my body was hurting, just in case people started voicing their doubts.

I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief when I was finally free of the attention. The feeling didn't last long when I finally entered the garage. My heart felt like it had dropped in my chest and my jaw slackened. Toto was sat at the end of the island, his chin resting atop his hand. From his side profile, he didn't look overly impressed and he hadn't even seen me yet. I could only fear how much more disappointed he'd look when he actually sees me.