Racing Hearts

7. Wake Me Up (When September Ends)

     "Alright, Stevie," Bucky chimes over the comm, "Rhodes and Zemo are comin' up on your left."

      "I just can't shake them, can I?" I groan in frustration, "This is getting ridiculous."

       It's September 19, 2020. We're at Bristol Motor Speedway for the third playoff race, the last round of 16 cars before it drops to 12. I came into the playoffs with half a dozen wins and have come up short this far, placing second in the first two playoff races. It's been frustrating, and I wasn't exactly looking forward to tonight's race, but here I am — chasing the checkered flag again. I can almost taste it, it's so fucking close.

     "Breathe, Cap," Tony says. "We still have a few laps left."

      "Then riddle me this, Stark," I say, "I'm a half lap ahead of these bastards with the win in my sights and they fly up out of fuckin' nowhere."

      "Stevie, you gotta breathe, babe," Bucky says, doing his best to calm me. "Your heart rate is through the roof. Breathe. Don't focus on the other cars. Look at the track ahead of you."

       "They're too close," Natasha notes. "Tony, you're seeing this, right? They're way too close to him."

       "Rubbing's racing, Nat," Tony sighs, "Not much we can do except speed up or let them pass."

       "Stevie, ease up on the gas for a second," Bucky tells me. "We'll do a rolling shield around this next turn to get you back in the lead.

       "Got it," I say, easing up just the slightest on the accelerator. "You said a rolling shield, right?"

      Zemo flies past...but, not without incident.

      In slow motion, I watch his rear tire bounce off of my front tire. This isn't the first time it's happened, but this is the first time that the actual wheels make contact with each other and I get spun around.

      Fuck!

     I do my best to brace inside the spin, the all too familiar feeling of being in a spiraling helicopter rushing back to me in flashes.

      Shit, shit, shit!

      As the car spins, my crew shouts over the comms, and then I see it.

     Rumlow is high alongside the wall, trapped there by a pack of cars trying to avoid the pieces that flew off my car while I was spinning, and he has nowhere to go but through me.

      "Stevie!"

      Rumlow slams into the driver's side panel at almost 200 miles per hour, sending us both careening across the track. My seatbelts finally lock halfway through the first spin, just in time for me to get hit again.

     The car flies through the air.

    "Goddammit!" Tony hisses.

    "Oh my God," I hear Bruce gasp over the comm.

     The car rolls.

     "Steve!" Wanda screams.

      The car rolls again.

      "Stevie!" Bucky shouts, his voice the only thing I can make out as the sound of metal being torn apart rumbles through my ears and shakes my bones.

      The car rolls again.

      "STEVE!" Bucky shouts, hoping to get through to me as the car finally comes to a stop.