Chapter Text
Sonny grips the steering wheel angry, feeling like the entire universe was making a cosmic joke out of his life.
Finally, FINALLY, when he starts to trust and open up and become part of the team at APXGP—his team—and they were going places, all the good they’ve done, in one moment. BOOM! It was gone. Ripped away, vaporized in an instant.
It hurt so much, almost more than it did thirty years ago. At that time, it was only him that suffered. Guilt gnawed at him as his mind replayed Ruben’s voice at the garage, desperate in such unfairness. He would suffer as one of their drivers, for sure, but this time, everyone at APX would go down with him, especially Ruben. And it was all because he wanted to chase through the dirty air, fight closer in those tight corners, give them the unfair advantage he knew deep down in his gut they were capable of. It hurt so, so much he could barely breathe.
He half-listened to the team on the radio as his arms shook, enraged.
Maybe he didn’t deserve good things like this. He was always the cause of the problem, in every aspect of his life. JP’s voice cut through the noise for a second, exclaiming, “the rules were always against us.” Then he heard it. The little voice in his head returned. It’d been years since its last appearance, but it was unmistakably it. The monster. It wasn’t loud—it didn’t need to be to cut through all the noise.
No, the rules are always against YOU.
Hugh’s voice came through. “Sonny, we just need to keep it in one piece. Okay?”
A beat. It circled back, digging its invisible claws into his head.
This is all your fault. What were you doing here in the first place, hm?
Sonny felt it force his head down toward his pocket. He felt for the card. It wasn’t there.
The voice became younger, almost childlike.
You're the reason Dad is gone.
The red lights blinked on, one by one.
He felt his entire being go cold. His breath hitched when the claws forced his head back up toward the race track. His hands returned to the wheel, gripping it tightly. Sonny tried to even his breathing, but all he could hear was blood rushing in his ears, panic rising in his chest.
When the voice spoke again, it was older and adolescent.
And look what you did to Mom.
He tried to will the voice to go away, to stop, to leave him alone. Everything around him faded into the distance, hazed, as if Sonny was inside a soundproof bubble. Only the monster cut through the silence.
The red lights blinked off. They raced ahead.
The bubble vacuumed inward, fusing itself onto every cell of Sonny’s being. It felt like his entire body was spiked with morphine, sudden and unstoppable. As he turned sharply, Sonny tried to fight it, angry that he couldn’t even control his own body. He was weak, useless.
A nobody.
A never was.
That's right.
Hugh’s advice to take it easy on his tires fell through on deaf ears. Sonny couldn’t hear him. The track blurred. His arms locked, lungs seizing.
The desire to destroy it ran through his veins as he turned the dial to Qualifying mode. He wanted it to stop.
It’s all your fault, Sonny!
The voice scorched his mind—then it roared: ALL YOUR FAULT!
The car went faster and faster, hitting a high speed of 210 miles per hour. Sonny fought for control, but the wheel answered somebody else. He braked hard and lunged toward Sergio Pérez—too close. There was no room.
You want me to stop?
He felt his eyes prickle with wet heat.
Sonny begged. Pleaded.
Please.
Then fix it.
Faces flash in his mind’s eye—Ruben, Kate, JP. Everyone he had come to care for at APXGP.
“I’m sorry,” he says to no one and everyone all at once.
Just as he attacks from the outside, he whispers, defeated.
“I’m sorry—I'm never enough.”
The entire world watched in horror as Sonny’s car flew into the barrier and spun, demolishing itself on the Vegas track, splitting into pieces.
“No! No!” Ruben ripped off his headphones, bolting onto the track.
Joshua slowed just far enough past what was left of Sonny’s car. The rookie scrambled out, sprinting to the wreck. His voice cracked over the radio, laced with panic: begging Sonny’s unconscious form to stay awake, that help was coming.
Sirens closed fast, but it wasn’t enough. The halo was dented, trapping Sonny inside—no way to drag him free, not like Monza when Sonny had saved him. Blood streaked from beneath the helmet. Panic surged. Joshua didn’t even realize he was speaking aloud, but everyone at APXGP held their breath as he pleaded: “Old man—don’t you dare die on me!”
Medics swarmed, one wielding a saw. Joshua stumbled back, watching as they cut through carbon fiber, pried Sonny out of the cockpit, and lifted him onto a stretcher. His helmet came free. Blood speckled the asphalt.
They checked for a pulse. Nothing. No breath.
Ruben reached him just in time to hold Joshua back, the younger man thrashing and screaming Sonny’s name.
Kate gripped the fence, knees buckling, as she—and the rest of the world—helplessly watched the medics fight to bring Sonny Hayes back to life.
Notes:
Revised 09/22/2025
Chapter Text
Time stood still as Ruben watched the medical team cut Sonny’s shirt down the middle in one sweep, immediately pressing their hands against his chest, right over his heart. Another placed electrode pads across his tattooed torso.
Ruben felt like he was watching a movie. This moment couldn’t be real. Yet against all odds, it was. A searing, fiery rage threatened to overtake him. This was too cruel, too unfair. He cursed whatever god had dealt Sonny such a horrible hand. To try and take him away, again—it was too much.
He wanted to lash out, destroy everything in his path. Memories, old and new, hit him like a freight train. Sonny’s boisterous laughter. That drawling voice. The way he could take a room by storm with his swagger. The warmth of his hand on Ruben’s lower back whenever they greeted each other, as if it had always belonged there.
No. This was not how Sonny would go out. Ruben refused to accept it. Sonny had too much life, too much fight, to just end like this.
But the other, colder part of his mind reminded him lashing out wouldn’t help. His hands were already full with Joshua. Adding himself to the chaos would only make it worse. And Sonny couldn’t afford that.
“Clear!”
Ruben flinched at the shout. Sonny’s body jolted like a puppet, then slumped back, unmoving.
Chest compressions again. Two endless minutes passed. Another shout: “Clear!”
Beside him, Joshua had stopped thrashing, sinking to his knees. His chest heaved, wrung out by fear.
“The old man’s gonna make it,” he said aloud, like a declaration. Then again. And again, a mantra, eyes locked on Sonny. Ruben could only lay a steady hand on his shoulder, echoing the words silently inside his own mind.
APXGP had never lost a driver to an accident. Drivers left for plenty of reasons—their shitbox of a car, better offers, poaching from rival teams—but not this. Never this. Ruben’s gut twisted for Joshua’s sake. He had studied the kid closely before signing him. In his own racing days, Ruben had seen teammates maimed, careers ended, worse. Joshua hadn’t, not yet. The risks were known to everyone in Formula 1, but knowing wasn’t the same as watching your mentor fight for his life.
Hell, Sonny had been the one who pulled Joshua out of a burning car at Monza. Saved him from missing more than three races. Now the roles were reversed. And if Sonny didn’t make it back, Ruben feared Joshua would break. Badly.
At APX headquarters, Pippa covered her mouth as the newsfeed zoomed in on the medics.
At the pitwall, Kaspar stood beside Kate, a steadying hand on her shoulders as she leaned into him.
Inside the garage, Jodie clung to Dodge’s arm, tears streaking down her face.
A few feet behind them, Bernadette Pearce bowed her head, clasped her hands, and whispered a prayer.
Four minutes and fifteen seconds had already passed.
With each tenth of a second, so too did the hope of Sonny Hayes returning to life.
“Clear!” The shout came a third time.
Everyone’s thoughts spiraled into the same, horrible question.
What if it was already too late?
Ruben’s heart nearly fell out of his chest when the medics cried, “We have a pulse! He’s breathing!”
The entire circuit erupted in cheers. The medical team ignored it, focused only on the patient in front of them. Ruben’s legs nearly gave out. He barely noticed Joshua grabbing him, shouting in his ear, bouncing up and down like he’d just won a Grand Prix.
“He’s alive! Sonny’s alive! He’s gonna make it!”
Ruben nodded on autopilot, but his eyes stayed fixed on his friend’s limp body, handled with the kind of urgency that said Sonny was far from safe.
Four minutes and thirty seconds. That was how long it took to bring Sonny back.
A miracle.
Hope clawed its way into Ruben’s chest, and he clung to it with everything he had. Still, he knew how fragile it was. Cardiac arrest was only the beginning. God only knew what other injuries Sonny had sustained—if the bleeding from his temple was any sign.
But for now, Ruben gripped the sliver of hope like a lifeline. For now, it was enough.
As they loaded Sonny into the ambulance, Ruben’s brain snapped back to life. He remembered, suddenly, how Sonny hated hospitals. The thought of him waking alone, terrified—
Just like the first time.
Regret stabbed deep. He started forward, then stopped, forcing himself to turn to Joshua. He gripped the younger man’s shoulders, team-owner mask sliding back into place.
“Take care of this race, Joshua. I trust you—all of you—to go win it.”
He didn’t add For Sonny. But Joshua heard it anyway. He nodded hard.
“Take care of him,” Joshua said. Ruben squeezed his shoulders once more before sprinting toward the ambulance.
Joshua couldn’t hear what Ruben argued with the medics. Only the crowd chanting Sonny’s name, as if sheer willpower could keep him alive. Ruben’s arms flew in wild gestures; he looked almost deranged. At last, they let him through. The doors slammed shut. The ambulance tore away.
Joshua stood on the track, alone. His eyes fell to the wreckage of Sonny’s car. Guilt gnawed at his gut. He clenched his fist, resolve hardening.
A voice called his name. He turned to see a safety car window roll down. The FIA had decided: the race would restart.
Joshua climbed back into his car, rolling into the pit lane in silence. He made brief eye contact with the crew as he hauled himself out of the cockpit.
“Let’s get to work, guys. We have a race to finish.” He added, quieter: “For Sonny.”
They regrouped, re-strategized. The team welcomed the distraction, working as if Ruben and Sonny were still there, driving them on.
When Joshua lined up on the grid again, one thought burned in his mind: to give everything he had. To prove Sonny’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain.
Forty-nine laps later, Joshua brought APXGP home P4 in Las Vegas.
Notes:
Revised 9/22/2025
Chapter 3
Summary:
You knew he would take the bait, you conniving son of a bitch.
Chapter Text
It was almost 4 AM in the morning when Ruben heard the hiss of the sliding doors open, followed by a stampede of footsteps enter the waiting area. From his hunched over position on the chair, Ruben peered over his hands. He unwound himself, pressing one arm into his leg while scrubbing his face with the other before moving to stand up. Kate came up first, and Ruben bent down to accept her embrace. She squeezed tightly before letting go.
“You all made it here quick,” he greeted them tiredly. There were bags under his eyes, which were bloodshot with exhaustion. Ruben looked as if he had aged ten years.
He turned to Joshua, nodding at the driver, then everyone else. “Congratulations on a job well done.”
They all gave them tight half smiles or nods. Last night, APXGP had placed P4—their highest position to date, and did so with the shitbox of a car too. It was a proud moment for the entire team. Yet, none of them were celebrating.
“How is he?” Kate asked, clutching the hem of her jacket. She looks just as tired.
Ruben took a moment to gather himself mentally, looking at the men and women standing in front of him. Kate, Kaspar, Hugh, Rico, Joshua, Jodie, Dodge, Luca. And surprisingly, Bernadette. His team. Sonny’s team. Everyone who supported APXGP.
“He’s currently in surgery”, he started. “His lungs had collapsed from the collision, and when he arrived, he was hit with a…” Ruben paused. He swallowed the lump in this throat. His eyes stung at the edges. Kate and Kaspar had come over and lended Ruben a steady hand on his shoulders.
He blinked away the tears and whispered, “He had a seizure.”
Jodie’s hand came up to her mouth. The others stiffened, lips pursed.
“Have any of the doctors come out yet?” Dodge asked, standing next to Ruben.
Ruben shook his head. “No, not since he was admitted. They said the surgery could take a few hours, except the seizure only complicated everything, possibly even his older injuries.”
It took two nurses to force Ruben back into the waiting area when he tried to force his way into the emergency room. That had been 8 hours ago.
“Wait, you mean from the crash thirty years ago?” Kate asked.
Ruben simply nodded, unable to offer up anything else. The others looked at one another, perplexed. Most of them knew about the accident that forced Sonny out of Formula 1 back in the 1990s, but they were not privy to the extent of his injuries. Neither was Ruben. Clearly, it had been thirty years ago, so they figured they all must have healed up enough for him to return back to an intense motorsport like F1.
Right?
“What are his chances?”
Everyone minus Ruben whipped their heads towards Hugh, gasping and sputtering equal parts aghast and in disbelief.
“What the hell, man?!” Luca asked.
“Yeah, what type of question is that? Of course he’s gonna make it!” Joshua added on, agreeing with Luca on something for once.
“What?” He shot back incredulously, his English voice turning octave higher. “It’s a legit question! He’s your teammate! Don’t you want to know, too?!”
A moment of silence followed, but Hugh didn’t back down, even though he was shaking like a leaf. When he spoke again, it was quieter, more reserved.
“I-I’m his race engineer and I just…” He faltered, shoulders slumped, looking at the floor. “I just need to know what to do next.”
The team had seen how over the races, Hugh had slowly opened up to Sonny—something the reserved ginger-headed engineer hadn’t done before with their previous drivers, especially their former number one. Sonny had wormed his way into their hearts, became a fixture of APXGP where if he wasn’t there, it simply just didn’t feel right. They all heard the comms right before the crash. Hugh had desperately tried to reach Sonny, to figure out what was going on. It was his job, after all, to look out for Sonny while he was on the track. And anyone can see how this was eating away at him.
And despite their reactions, they knew this was Hugh’s way of trying to maintain control. To cope. And deep down, they were all trying to do the same thing.
Joshua opened his mouth to say something, but Ruben beat him to it.
“There’s a 50/50 chance he will make it through,” he replies evenly, almost mechanical.
They went quiet at the information, letting the weight of the situation sink in.
Which meant there was a 50/50 chance Sonny might not.
Ruben didn’t bother to register their individual reactions, instead opting to fall back into the chair, rubbing his face with his hands for what must have been the hundredth time. The image of Sonny’s unconscious form on the gurney burned in his mind. He inhaled deep, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling it out just as long. And repeated. They still had his scent from holding Sonny’s hand the entire way to the hospital. His cold, cold hands…
The hollowness in Ruben’s chest opened wider and wider until he felt the edges slip from his grasp. Suddenly, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. A horrible sound escaped Ruben’s lips. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, his entire body shook violently as he sobbed into his hands, a rush of emotions crashed through him all at once.
His chest ached, burning like acid. He opened his mouth, trying to control himself, but the voice in his head—you knew he would take the bait, you conniving son of a bitch—seared across his mind. Waves of anger, horror, and guilt gutted him open.
He never should have brought Sonny into this. How could he do this?
It was the first time the team had ever seen Ruben openly cry in front of them, completely undone and upset like this. The upbeat, professional, passionate, at times overly zealous man they were all used to seeing had been reduced to a vulnerable, hurting human. The sight broke their hearts.
There was shuffling, then hands and warmth that surrounded Ruben’s form as he continued pouring out everything he had been holding onto. His sobs came in tidal waves, each one louder and more uncontrollable than the next.
Someone had offered him a shoulder to lean on. Another rubbed circles on Ruben’s back, supportively. There were various hugs and soft offerings of support. Then, a soft, feminine voice broke through the storm.
“You don’t have to carry this all on your own”, Bernadette offered, handing him tissues to which he gratefully accepted, followed by her motherly instructions to breathe.
Ruben blew his nose, coughing. He took in a breath, then another. He felt her hands close around his own.
Kaspar’s voice found its way through the thick of their reassurances as he offered Ruben an assuring hand on his shoulder.
“You have everyone else here to lean on, Ruben. You will not go through this alone. And neither will the asshole.”
That got a few chuckles from the others, who all nodded at one another, agreeing.
“That’s right, boss”, Rico piped in. “No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together.”
Chapter Text
Exhaustion hit them all at varying degrees, especially since traditionally they all would have already headed to their hotels to get some decent sleep before waking up refreshed to check out and head to their next location. That was the norm, given the next race was only a week away and overseas on a different continent. But none of them had left the waiting area, each having found a chair to settle down in, but only after they had ensured their head honcho was okay.
Ruben had calmed down enough to collect himself, his cheeks whisked with a brush of pink at the slight embarrassment of openly breaking down in front of his team—something he isn’t known for doing, especially in public, nevertheless in front of his own employees, whether that was at APX or Cervantes Capitol. But they had assured him they thought nothing less of him. If anything, it brought upon a new level of respect for their team owner. Despite how invincible he seemed to be all the time, he was human like all of them. And he had trusted them, even if it was involuntary, with his emotions and had accepted their support. It was unlike anything Ruben had experienced in the past and he was humbled to be surrounded by such people.
And it gave him comfort that Sonny had them, too.
As they settled themselves in the surrounding chairs, Ruben had taken some time with Hugh away from the group, albeit still in the same space, to assure the red-head that regardless of what had occurred and will happen, none of it was his fault. And it wouldn’t change his career at APXGP either. It was Hugh’s turn to break down. He admitted through each sob-hiccup against Ruben’s shoulder that he wasn’t as concerned with his career more than Sonny’s wellbeing. Ruben merely held him, letting him let it all out, just as they had done for him earlier. Except he had initiated that space for Hugh because Ruben knew that the race engineer needed it just as much. And slipping back into the caretaker position as team owner gave him some sort of control that settled his nerves some. As much as the mere thought of losing Sonny hurt too much to put into words, his blonde friend would have wanted them to finish their last race of the season with gusto. And that wouldn’t be possible without Hugh doing what he did best.
They had ended their private moment together with a teary laugh at how Sonny had responded to Hugh during his ‘audition’.
“I swear to God, I thought I was going to be fired,” Hugh shared, wiping his eyes dry before putting his glasses back on.
“Ay dios mío! That was APXGP soap opera at its finest!” Ruben barked, clapping Hugh on the back as they came back to the group.
Overhearing their chat, the others began to chime in, sharing the odd or funny memories they had experienced with Sonny both on and off track. It led to several collective bursts of laughter or confused looks from Joshua and Luca, to which the elderberries of the team simply responded, “You Gen-Z kids wouldn’t understand.” Joshua, being Joshua, goaded them with a suggestive “try me”, eliciting groans and comments of, “you asked for it.” He immediately regretted his decision, leading to snickers and chuckles, even from his mother. Shop talk was sprinkled in, but they kept the conversation focused on memory lane. Then the conversation shifted to what they wanted to show Sonny when he got out, on all the “cool, young, and hip things” he was missing out on. That brought them all back down into their current reality, their playful demeanor from before settling down.
Although the silence that followed wasn’t as much of a chokehold like it was when most of them had arrived, or quelled the anxiety and fear that was still very much present, it helped make the black cloud that hung over their heads a little bit more bearable.
When Kate’s phone went off, noting that it was 5:05 AM on her screen, she excused herself when she announced it was Pippa. Everyone took that as the cue to either use the restroom, walk around, find a snack, or make phone calls themselves.
Joshua and Bernadette were the only ones besides Ruben who were in the waiting room when Joshua returned from using the restroom. Joshua leaned forward, propping his elbows on his legs. He pursed his lips, lost in thought.
“I’d like to schedule a press conference”, Joshua blurted out. “Regarding Sonny.”
Ruben knitted his eyebrows together. That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear.
“If it’s about last night, you don’t have to do it, Joshua. Lizbeth and I will handle whatever comes our way with the press,” he assured him, not wanting Joshua to feel obligated to do so.
“No, it’s not that.” He straightened up, facing Ruben first, then turning to his mom. “I want to clear his name. For what happened in Monza.”
Ruben and Bernadette traded looks—hers questioning, Ruben’s neutral—but both remained quiet, cueing for Joshua to continue.
“Mom, during the race, right before the crash, it was my decision to make the move. Sonny actually told me to wait.”
The words hung over them like thick molasses. Bernadette leaned back into her chair, taking the information in with a shuddering breath.
“But he still ordered you to make such a dangerous move”, she pointed out.
“He did, but I saw what I thought was an opening and went for it. Against his instructions.” Joshua turned his attention down to his hands, tracing the areas of scar tissue with his eyes.
“Is this true?” She asked, directing the question towards Ruben.
The man closed his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh of his own. “It is. Sonny didn’t want you to feel some type of way about your son, so he chose to take the blame himself.” Then he added. “Sonny had asked us to keep it under wraps, out of respect for you both.”
They stayed quiet like that for several moments, processing everything that had just been revealed. Joshua watched his mother’s face flip between guilt and shame—a reflection of his own feelings as well. After everything Sonny had done for him, he had treated the man like an asshole. Was it fair? Hell no, but it boosted Joshua’s ego. Being higher and mightier than the old geezer. After returning from his recovery, that was all he could think about at the Spa-Francorchamps Grand Prix. DNF-ing Sonny off the track was so satisfying at that moment, and yeah he did score P8, but if they had worked together, they both might have scored in the top 10, earning the team more points. Maybe even snagged a podium.
When he witnessed Ruben break down earlier, Joshua was confronted with the ugly truth that he tried to shy away from because he was too damn worried about what the rest of the world would think of him.
Ruben had saw something in him when they met after he won his F2 championship. Gave him a seat on his team, one that he had bought yes, but saw Ruben built up through sheer passion, blood, sweat, and tears. He recruited an odd range of people with various fire skills who weren’t picked up by the other teams because they didn’t fit the “standard expectations”. What Joshua truly liked about being part of APXGP was the diversity and the inclusivity.
He knew this better than anyone, the way he had to fight and climb his way up to Formula 1. And Ruben was the one that gave him the door to walk into this dream. And he gave him Sonny, who despite being an annoying prick, was quick, experienced, and, per his sagely advice, patient. And brought the team together—something Joshua and his previous ex driver team mates didn’t think was necessary to be a part of.
APXGP are a true band of misfits that had taken Formula 1 by storm. A team that he was proud to be a part of, and was willing to defend, tooth and nail. He wasn’t the best of the best, yet, but he might be great, given the people he was surrounded with and the tools that were given to him to learn from and grow with.
Hadn’t it been for both Ruben and Sonny, they wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be here.
That’s how dumb you are.
Yeah, Sonny was right to tell him that, and straight to his face.
“Joshua Damson Pearce,” Bernadette finally addressed him. “Thank you for your honesty. Although I am ashamed of only learning this now, I am proud that you have shared the truth. However, the moment that man wakes up, you are to apologize sincerely. Do you understand me?”
The boy swallowed, and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She turned to Ruben. “And I, too, owe Sonny an apology myself.”
Ruben offered a small nod and tight smile. “He’ll probably brush it off as ‘no big deal’, but I am sure deep down he will appreciate it.”
Chapter Text
“Thanks, Pippa. I owe you one”, Kate said as she hung up.
The Irish woman slotted the phone back into her jacket pocket, tilting her head towards the sky above. It’s a stunning litany of indigo, deep magenta, and the slightest hint of orange at the horizon. And anyone looking at it would have automatically whipped their smartphones out to take a photo to show it off to friends or loved ones. Perhaps even post it on social media and share it with the world. But Kate had no urge to do that.
It was truly a sight to behold, just simply so beautiful. And in seeing such beauty, the serenity slid things into perspective for her. Pursing her lips, Kate clenched her hands into fists, willing herself to hold back the torrent of emotions swirling inside her.
Before and even after she had signed onto APX, Kate had questioned everything—her relationships, her career, her entire life—and thought not less than at least once each day, how she didn’t deserve to be there. Many people questioned her career choices.
Her first year physics university professor had called her wit admirable, but thought she was better at home working a pub job and staying home to care for children with that pretty face of hers instead of studying “hard topics” like physics and engineering. That had royally pissed her off and she had gone to graduate with a series of Masters and PhD’s under her belt years later.
That resulted in her finding a stable job in the aerospace field at Lockheed, a career that was nothing to sneeze at. It was like winning an accolade, and she was praised by her friends and family, even her colleagues for making it so far as a woman. Even her newly wedded husband at the time, Richard, whom she had met during her university years, had supported her throughout the entire journey to get there. But even while she was there, building aircrafts and fire jets for the military, something inside her didn’t sit right. That spark in the beginning of her climb up the ladder in a world mainly dominated by men had faded. It was off its axis. She was starting to feel like she was living someone else’s life and the image of “living the perfect life” started to crack.
They had talked about children, possibly having one or two in the future once things started being stable at work for a few years. Planned out all the what ifs and tried to time out everything so it would all fit into a neat little line to check mark off as the years went by.
Was this all life had to offer? Is this what she was fighting so hard for?
Then, three years ago, out of nowhere, an associate informed Kate that there was a gentleman that had asked for a moment of her time as she was clocking out. Tilting her chin up to meet all five foot eleven of a man who introduced himself as Ruben Cervantes, all five foot three of herself felt something hum in her body as they shook hands in the lobby, and went out for dinner together, on his dime. He had explained to her that he was looking for a technical director for his Formula 1 team, to create an extremely fast car that could win seasons of races on iconic tracks all around the world. They would be “fighting to the death for a tenth of a second”, as he so eloquently put it, witnessed by the roaring crowds and global media. And, case in point, “make history”. His passion as he explained it was infectious and it tickled her fancy of such a thrilling, impossible task. At the end of their dinner, that hum alchemized itself into a buzzing that permeated her entire body. In her gut, she felt this was the way to go. It would be unlike anything she’d ever experienced. And the challenges it would bring made the hunger inside her stomach rumble with excitement. Over the moon, she couldn’t wait to share it with Richard.
When she had run it by Richard that same night, hoping he would support her like he had in every part of their time together, they had exploded into their worst argument ever in their marriage.
“Are you insane, Kate? How dare you think you can do better what you have now? Isn’t this enough? Aren’t I enough for you?!”
They went back and forth. And it dawned on Kate that her that the man she had called her husband for the past few years was afraid of change, was too comfortable with his life and the way she fit into it, and that he only truly supported her at Lockheed because it wasn’t as big of a challenge as this “stupid offer”. She thought they were a team all this time, but she had assumed wrong. It broke her heart, because she loved Richard, but her soul wanted to go farther, try new things, challenge herself to be the best version of herself. Deep down, she couldn’t do that at Lockheed. She couldn’t remain complacent and act as the “good wife working a stable job”. She couldn’t let her spark dwindle and die out. Because if she did, what the hell has she been fighting for her entire life?
And if she were to have children, she would want to support and push them to be the best at what they loved, too, unconditionally and whole heartedly.
The divorce was painful. Even when she put in her resignation letter to her boss, he had called her nuts. But she ignored them, packing up everything she owned and left Richard, left Lockheed, left her old life behind. To begin forging a new one, with her own bare hands and the skills and knowledge she acquired. Not because she was a woman, but because she loved what she did and she wanted to contribute where it mattered. Ruben helped her with the transition, to which she was grateful for. Kate had crash-coursed herself quickly on the sport of Formula 1. It made her excited to create this car, learning to work alongside a group of people that simply just loved racing, and were also seen as very insane, just like her. She was part of a team—her team—and it made her proud to wake up every day and do it all over again.
Year one and year two were a struggle, getting the tech issues right and getting the right feedback from the drivers as well. They didn’t score any points, and going into year three and with half the season over, silent rumors began to circulate that if APXGP didn’t turn themselves around, they would all lose their jobs.
Kate panicked. It couldn’t end like this. They had all fought too hard to let it just fall through the floor. She was praying that the parts she had developed over the past six months would give them the advantage they needed. It had to. All the calculations were there.
Maxwell Corn, APXGP’s number one driver to date, had quit over the summer break for the reserve driver seat at Haas, claiming that her car was a “shitbox” publicly on the media, leaving behind their rookie driver Joshua Pearce and a second open seat. Corn had also made side comments on how Kate would be better off designing home appliances instead of F1 cars, and openly shared his opinion that she wasn’t cut out for the job, and probably only got it by spreading her legs nice and wide for the big boss like a whore. Pippa held her when she found Kate in the women’s restroom that day, crying into her knees on the floor, shattered. The younger woman tried to assure her that the rest of the team didn’t think that way about her at all, and if they did, they would meet the spectacled woman’s wrath. True to Pippa’s words, the rest of the team supported her. Even Ruben had made a public statement against Corn’s crude comments, stating that if he had the time to slander a talented human being, then he had time to improve himself as a driver for his team. And publicly threatened the man should he decide to step foot back into APXGP’s territory, whether it be their garage or their headquarters.
Haas ended up canning Corn for his attitude, but it didn’t alleviate the sting his commentary left behind within the motorsport world.
That left her with their rookie Joshua Pearce, a talented young man whom had climbed his way up the ranks of various racing circuits to earn himself a name and recognition. They had their rocky start together, given she was considered a “newbie” to the world of Formula 1. Yet they had mutual respect for one another, aware that they individually had clawed their way through to be where they were. Kate appreciated his slightly more respectful demeanor towards her, to which she returned back, unlike the other men that sat in their number one driver’s seat. So she leaned on Joshua more for feedback and knew that once Corn had left them, he would be her only source of insight on the tracks. And that’s what they did all summer, her and Joshua, running simulations, testing out her changes, anything they could do to get them points for the remainder of the season. They butted heads time to time and she figured they did the best that they could when the second half the season started again.
And then, Sonny Hayes pummeled into their lives. For a moment…well, actually, many moments, during his ‘audition’ of APXGP, as Ruben dubbed it, Kate was perplexed by this strange man, who came into their garage, started picking apart the car she’d built, and decided to destroy it on the tracks of Silverstone to give her the feedback she needed. More thoroughly than Joshua or any other drivers previous had ever done. Then he jockeys into her “office” and she, against her better judgement, goes out for a drink with the man, recalling Ruben’s warning about his hot mess of a love life, to address his “urgent question”. The American proceeds to blindside her in a horribly flirtatious attempt, asking if she can upgrade the car so that he and Joshua could gamble their lives away on the track by entering the corners at 322 kilometers per hour. And that it was “urgent”. She had called him out, describing him as a “rough and tumble, old school, no bullshit cowboy” who thought he could just go in and do whatever he wanted. As she said that, her conscious reminded her that she basically did the same thing, but she pushed that into the deep depths of her mind. She suggested that he failed at Formula 1, with that “lone wolf” attitude. And reminded him that this was a team sport—something she held dear to her heart—and that she’d start listening when he wins a race.
And he did, after he had helped them score points in at the Hungarian Grand Prix via Joshua. Then Zandvoort, Suzuka, and Mexico City. With each race, they placed higher and higher. The other teams had started to take them seriously, seeing them as worthy opponents and in some of the post race interviews, complimented them for their “comeback”. All due to his request for aeros that would cut through the dirty air in the turns. It became apparent that this ‘cowboy’ actually knew what he was doing all along. A small part of her was glad they went out for drinks that day, just as she had taken the chance on herself after meeting with Ruben. That buzzing feeling that appeared after she met Ruben for the first time had returned back full-throttle. Despite having questioned the legitimacy and presence of Sonny Hayes, he brought her back something she feared she was starting to lose again. And more.
Although she didn't participate in all of their morning runs on the track, when she did, it felt amazing. They all synced together, running as one, garnishing the occasional odd looks from the other teams on the track. But none of them bothered to care. As they ran, they focused on the goal, and when one of them started to fall behind, they helped each other back up, keeping tight formation. The synchronization followed them onto the track, in the pitwall, and in the garage.
Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. That was their team chant before they ran and once they finished. It was infectious, just like Ruben's passion. Paired together with Sonny's confidence and steady presence, Kate watched every single person in APXGP come together in a way she had never thought possible.
However with all the points they scored with everyone’s one critical contribution every lap, she garnered a different kind of respect for Sonny after the accident in Monza.
The media had not been kind to him, blaming him for Joshua’s fiery crash and hospitalization that left him out of the season for several weeks. They had all heard it on their headphones over the comms. Sonny’s instructions to Rico was for Joshua not to gun ahead, but to wait and be patient. Rico had relayed the instructions to his driver precisely.
‘Tell JP to wait for the straight into turn one. Be patient! Straight at turn one!’
Kate watched Rico acknowledge and switch his comms channel.
‘Joshua, Sonny says wait for the straight. The straight into turn one.’
‘I’m right there! I’ve got him!’
They held their breaths as Joshua edged closer and closer to Verstappen’s gearbox at over 200 miles per hour. The sheer speed felt as though Joshua was flying a rocket. And when Joshua decided to go against Sonny’s advice, confidently relaying back to them.
“I see an opening. Going for it!”
Kate heard Sonny’s panicked voice come through at the same time as Joshua’s.
“No! No!”
She had never heard Sonny sound so terrified.
Rico pressed his comms channel to relay, but it was five hundredths of a second too late.
Kate’s hand had come up to her mouth, shell-shocked, as they watched Joshua’s car flip in the air and burst into flames when it hit the barrier. This had never happened before in APXGP’s history to any of its drivers. While learning the industry, she had seen footage of other accidents of this caliber happen to other drivers on other teams. It looked less daunting on a television screen. But when it happened so close to home, to someone you knew and respected and worked alongside with every day, it hit very differently.
The cameras had zoomed into Sonny stopping his car right in front of the flaming one, forcing himself out of the cockpit like a desperate man and run into the flames. When the fire marshals handed him the extinguisher, he went back in despite how the flames licked at his suit. Her heart leaped into her throat at the moment he leaped into the heat of the fire, pulling out Joshua’s unconscious form and away from the destruction. She saw how he frantically looked around, waving his arms around, as if signaling for someone to come quick. She realized later on, he was willing the medical team to get there faster. It had taken ten minutes for the ambulance to finally appear. Sonny didn’t leave Joshua’s side, clinging onto the younger man, as if he was willing him to stay awake.
To stay alive.
He let go when he was being loaded into the bay. The team didn’t know how severe the injuries were until Joshua had been admitted into the hospital soon after. The entire circuit was left on edge.
Given they had communicated via private comms, that part of their strategy conversation was not broadcasted to the FIA for them or the public to hear. And so when the press accused Sonny of being at fault for Joshua’s accident, Kate followed Sonny outside of Ruben’s office after he had told them he didn’t want them releasing what had really happened to the media. She had pulled him aside and asked him why and questioned why he didn’t even bother to attempt to defend himself.
“It wouldn’t matter what I say, they’re looking for a scapegoat and I’m their easiest target”, he calmly explained to her, slouched against the wall and hands hidden in his jacket pockets. He looked haggard.
“But that just ain’t right, Sonny. They need to know the truth!” She argued back, arms splayed wide, displaying her want to push back against the injustice his man didn’t deserve.
Sonny merely swallowed, choosing to look down at the floor for a while.
Kate’s shoulders slumped, her arms coming back down against her sides. “So that’s it? You’re just going to roll over and let them stampede all over you like this?”
It took a minute before Sonny decided to respond back. “I don’t want to burden him or his mother more than they already are.”
That struck something in Kate. “And she threatened you. Wrongfully so.”
Sonny flinched at the mention of Joshua’s mother, but said nothing towards it.
“It isn’t fair, Sonny,” she pleaded. “You don’t deserve this.”
“It’s not about deserving, Kate. Sometimes you gotta take one for the team and just go with it. I don’t care what happens to me, as long as Ruben keeps his team and in return, you all keep your jobs. Besides, it’ll be easier this way.” There was a sense of sadness and acceptance in the way he sounded, like he’s done this before. As if taking this kind of hurt was normal.
It cracks something inside her.
“I’m not asking you to agree. I’m asking you to respect my decision. That’s all.”
It’s the most serious he’s ever sounded. To Kate it was off putting, not at all the Sonny Hayes she’s come to know these past few months. Then it became evident to her. She was seeing a deeper layer of this man, a part of him that has been hiding under the visage of bravado and know-how. And he was trusting her by revealing this little sliver of himself, probably something he didn’t do often because when he did, it would only result in pain.
It made her insides flip inside out and she hated it.
He comes off the wall and starts to make his way past her. He stops before he turns the corner.
“Hey, Kate?”
She turns to meet him.
“Tell Ruben and Kaspar I’m going to be working on Luca for the upcoming races. If we’re going to save APX at any capacity, we need him to place minimum P10. He knows where to find me.”
Kate stood there alone in the hallway, drowning in disgust. Like she had just been slapped in the face.
They didn’t talk about it again, concentrating on the goals ahead of them. It didn’t lessen the feelings that Kate had towards the whole thing, but it kept her mind off of it for the most part. Joshua returned in in the Spa-Francorchamps Grand Prix. Chaos ensued between the both Joshua and Sonny, and everyone felt like they were back at square one with the two of them. So Ruben and Kate strategize a way to help them see eye-to-eye, which ended up backfiring on her in a way, but led to another surprise that was completely of her own doing. And she didn’t regret any of it. He had opened up to her again on the balcony, trusting her enough to share another, deeper layer of himself. Things were looking good and felt good, both physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Until the FIA met with them in the wee hours of morning, claiming that they had received the anonymous tip that their aeros were illegally manufactured outside of APXGP facilities. It was not possible—she had overseen that part of the process herself—but it was already too late to make any arguments. The representative made it very clear—revert back and stay in the race, or get out. She spoke for everyone out loud, shaking with dread, that without her new aeros, they were royally, fucking screwed.
She hadn’t paid attention to Sonny’s silent response, too focused on wrapping her mind around how this was at all possible to notice him slip out of the room. Kate only started paying attention to Sonny when he got onto the grid. His silence on the radio wasn’t entirely unusual, but that had been a sign. One she unconsciously and consciously chose to overlook. Then things got out of hand too fast too quick. Only minutes into the race the car was turned into Qualifying mode. Kate panicked. The words from Monza echoed everywhere in her mind like alarm bells.
No! No!
She yelled at Hugh, who then tried to reach him. But there was nothing but silence. And then…
BOOM!
The explosion that ricocheted across the entire circuit was beyond deafening, like a bomb had gone off. Then came the god awful sounds of Joshua’s voice over the radio, begging Sonny to stay awake, that help was coming.
Kate ran to the fence, clutching it for dear life as if it would change something. It was Monza all over again, except worse. So, so much worse. She didn’t notice Kaspar come up beside her, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. She didn’t register her knees go weak, or lean on Kaspar’s form for support. All she could think of when the medics tried to revive him was how unfair this all was, and she dared to wonder if this was the universe's answer to the desire of a man who chose to take all the horrible things that happened to him because he believed it was for the best.
She didn’t want to say the word. It was too daunting, too real. Kate didn’t want to give it any power. Not until she could piece together the clues that were left behind. Although it was a speculation, it was something she couldn’t rule out. His demeanor in the hallway and his silence over the radio…none of it made sense.
As Kate stood outside the hospital in the silence of the pre-dawn, that crack that had formed inside her after Monza started to widened itself a fraction more. How awful would it be if Sonny Hayes never got the opportunity to see the morning sky like this ever again?
The thought made her heart ache painfully, not being able to share a moment like this with that rough and tumble lone-wolf of a man.
Fucking Christ, it hurt.
The sound of a car door opening and closing pulled Kate out of her mind. Parked along the curb with the hazard lights blinking on was a gentleman wearing APX gear and a pair of sunglasses. Slung over his shoulder was a green duffle bag.
“Hey Chaz”, she greeted him, signing a ‘hello’.
The man nodded in greeting, returning the gesture. Most people took Chaz for a quiet man, which in truth, he was. What most weren’t aware of was that Chaz didn’t speak because he couldn’t.
All of APXGP knew this and had no issue communicating with him through sign language, facial expressions or hand gestures. The man also knew how to read lips, so from time to time, he’d drop some intel after taking a casual lap around the circuit. Chaz also doubled as Sonny’s security detail, fully trained in hand-to-hand combat and Krav Maga. He was extremely reliable and very patient. It had made him the perfect assistant for Sonny, who liked Chaz in return.
Said man handed Kate the bag, nodding when she asked if this was everything. She was about to tell him thank him and send him on his way. But she paused when he had taken off his glasses, his facial expression laced with concern.
Kate sighed gently, offering him a sympathetic look. “We’re waiting to hear from the doctors if his surgery is a success. He’s got a 50/50 chance at making it through in one piece. I’ll keep you posted.”
A complicated array of emotions make themselves present on Chaz’s face, however they’re gone as soon as they appeared. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Kate, put his glasses back on, and left.
Kate lingered until the car peeled away from the parking lot before making her way back inside.
Chapter Text
When Kate reentered the waiting area, everyone had already returned, softly talking amongst themselves. Ruben was seated next to Kaspar and an empty seat, bouncing his legs in an attempt to stave off the sleep attempting to overtake him. Nearby, Rico and Luca were doing their best not to nod off, but failing miserably.
"Who was that?" Joshua asked Kate as she sat down in the empty chair, duffle bag in lap.
"Chaz," she replied, giving the driver a cursory glance before unzipping the bag open. After Ruben had left with Sonny, she had texted him if they should bring Sonny's belongings to the hospital. The response didn't come until over an hour after she had sent it, by which time she had Sonny's assistant get everything packed up and ready to go. Once the race had concluded, the team immediately began disassembling everything. Kate normally didn't involve herself, given her role, but everyone on the team, even the ones who didn't normally participate, contributed. In part, those who wanted to go to the hospital to see Sonny wanted to get everything done quickly, and those who weren't, figured the faster they finished, the more sleep they could get in.
Kate's body never felt more sore than it did after they finished, but it had been worth it. Except on the way over, she had kicked herself for forgetting the green duffle bag behind. She was grateful Chaz volunteered to bring it over when he helped the hospitality team wrap up the final kinks. It had worked out, she thought with an aching heart, as they were able to help give Ruben some reprieve. She couldn't even begin to imagine what was going through her boss's head right now. Even with her own pain, Ruben's was ten times as worse. And Kate truly didn't want to find out how he would react if Sonny did in fact kick the bucket. Because she, too, was afraid of how she would take it as well, or not at all.
You better pull through, Sonny. We're all counting on you.
Looking inside the bag, Kate couldn't help the little smile blossoming on her face when she spotted not one, but two extra pairs of APXGP lounge clothes, slippers, socks, and briefs underneath Sonny's sticker-covered AirPod Max. She had to hand it to Chaz, he always knew how to take good care of his driver. Next to the headphones were two clear plastic zip locks. One contained what looked to be a light brown wallet, a watch, and some toiletries. The one beside it contained a deck of cards—the same one they used to play poker the other night.
Kate's throat closed up at the sight of them, almost hesitant to touch it. Then, that's when she noticed it. A small note, tucked behind the box. She pulled out the clear bag, pried it open and took the note out first. It was a short note, written in Chaz's neat script.
'All 52 present. Please recheck.'
What?
Kate wasn't an expert with the world of gambling, and asked one of the others if they knew how many cards were normally in a deck.
"Fifty-two", Ruben replied automatically. "I only know because of my time with Sonny back in the day." They didn't miss the melancholy in his tone. Then he asked. "Why?"
"There's a note here from Chaz. He wants us to recheck Sonny's deck, but he says all fifty-two of them are here." Saying it out loud made it sound even more confusing.
At this point, Ruben had sat up straighter, his full attention on the note in Kate's hand. "May I?"
Kate nodded, handing it to him. Ruben slipped his glasses on, reading it himself, as if it was the most difficult puzzle in the world. Which in this moment, it was.
"Let me check the cards, hang on."
She was hit with a sense of déjà vu when the deck slid out of its box and onto her hand. Flipping them around so the numbers faced up, she began to deal them out into groups of four on the plastic mini table. Clubs, Spades, Diamonds, and Hearts. It didn't take her long to sort them. Then she proceeded to organize them by order number, going from kings to aces, like a finalized version of Solitaire. Every single group had thirteen numbers. Nothing was missing.
At this point, everyone's attention was on the cards neatly laid out in front of them.
"I don't understand", she said out loud. "What are we not seeing?"
"I've seen him flick his cards before races", Ruben supplied, leaning forward, elbows on knees. The note was clutched between his thumb and index finger.
"What else does he do before a race?" he asked the rest of his team. Ruben felt bad for not knowing this part about his friend, but his time was usually eaten up by entertaining his investors and guests during race time.
"Tennis balls and music," Joshua piped up.
The team stared at him, baffled. Joshua’s face twisted with equal disbelief.
“What? Have none of you heard him bouncing them like he’s rehearsing for Wimbledon in there? It’s obnoxious. I can’t even concentrate sometimes. And he probably doesn’t hear a damn thing with those childish-looking headphones on.”
"Well, we can't hear anything either besides the noise in the garage, and Dodge yelling at us." Jodie commented, shooting her chief mechanic an apologetic half-shrug and a sheepish grin. Dodge only rolled his eyes in response.
"But I've seen him also kneel next to his car, giving it a 'good luck prayer'. I think it's really humbling," the young woman added.
She had seen him do it the first time on the grid in Silverstone, back in September. The first thing she thought was how cool it was. She had never seen another driver do something like that. Granted, they all had their own 'pre-race rituals'. But in those moments, it looked as if Sonny was connecting with the car in a telepathic kind of way. And over the races, she began to understand that it went deeper than being just a simple prayer. Sonny was one of the first drivers she's seen at APXGP where he and his car drove together as one, like they were in sync.
He shared with her during a lunch break they had one time while exploring the local restaurants in Suzuka that the difference between a good driver and an outstanding one wasn't just the driver or the car, but the people who put it together. That the driver was only as good as his team, because when they can 'build a car', they're nothing stopping them from going places.
'You might not see it yet, Jodie, but you're the glue that holds that pit team together. Dodge is great, but you've got something he doesn't.'
'And what's that?' she asked in return.
'Intuition and grit. Tons of it. Or me and you wouldn't be talking right now.'
Recalling that conversation, Jodie turned to Luca. "Did you see anything when you were filling in for Joshua in Zandvoort, Suzuka, or Mexico City?"
The team's third driver thought to himself quietly. Then his eyes lit up, like a light bulb had went off.
"Sonny took an ice bath before we started Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez", he said, his Spanish accent rolling off.
"Kate said before, not after, idiot," Joshua immediately quipped.
"I know that, JP," the other driver spat back.
"Hey, quit it. Only the old man can call me that!" Joshua exclaimed, earning raised eyebrows.
Rico was trying to suppress a snicker. "I thought you didn't like that nickname."
"I don't—"
"Lads! Focus! Sonny's life is at stake here!"
Kate didn't mean to yell that loudly, but her nerves were fraying and she was very, very tried. The triage nurse glanced over at their direction, but said nothing.
She rubbed her face with both hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"Kate, it's okay. We all understand," Kaspar assured her. Joshua’s shoulders hunched as he looked away, chastened. Luca winced, rubbing the back of his neck. Neither argued; they both only nodded. Kaspar motioned Luca to continue.
"Anyways, I'm aware he usually takes them after a race. But after we finished sharing notes on when to brake on Sector 2, he asked me to help him set up an ice bath. He said his back was on fire," emphasizing the 'on fire' portion with air quotes.
When all of them turned identical confused looks his way, he shot one right back. "What?"
"And you didn't bother to tell us?" Kate questioned. "Any of us?"
A flash of embarrassment and something else crossed Luca's face. "Look, guys, I wanted to, but he ordered me to keep it to myself. Otherwise, he threatened to run me off the track."
They all groaned.
"God, that impossible man," Kate seethed through her teeth. If he had told Luca to keep something like this to himself, what else could he have been hiding?
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Other than that, no. Afterwards, I helped him out, he felt better. We both got dressed. I had a question for him, so I met him in his driver's room while he was doing his usual stuff, like putting his watch on his altar and slipping a card into his pocket. Then we talked before going onto the track—"
"Wait! What did you just say?" Ruben practically leaped off his seat.
"Uh, we talked before we went onto the track", the younger man repeated himself.
"No, before that."
“Um, he was slipping a card into his pocket—” He stopped mid-sentence, clamping his mouth shut, eyes widening.
All at once, their gazes dropped to the table. A quiet, heavy realization settled over the group.
There should only be fifty-one cards staring back at them.
Luca swallowed, the color draining from his face. “He never put one in his pocket.”
"And is there a reason why he do that, other than for racing preparation?" Bernadette asked.
Ruben started pacing back and forth, lost in thought. Ruben felt like he knew the answer, like it was on the tip of his tongue. But the answer went away as fast as it appeared. He let out a frustrated sigh.
He came back over to the table, hands on his hips, looking down at the cards. His eyes raked over each row, willing the cards to speak the answer. Eventually, his eyes roamed over to the seven of Spades, a number that had been decaled onto Sonny's helmet. The number had also been chosen prior to Sonny's arrival to APXGP on his car. Ruben shook his head, mentally laughing to himself. It was as if he had manifested Sonny's return unconsciously, and despite what he had told Ruben at the diner, he had shown up, like he prayed his friend would.
Brother, you have never let me down.
Well, there's still time.
Ruben carefully pried the card out of its neat pile, holding it in his hand. The note fluttered to the ground, forgotten.
Meanwhile, Kate went back into the duffel bag, finishing out the other ziplock bag. She pulled out the contents, setting the watch down carefully on the table, almost reverently. Flipping the wallet open, a faded photo stared back at her. It was an older man, with long curly hair and a mustache, sitting on the ground and holding onto a young boy with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a racing suit on. Both wore matching smiles. And both their faces looked like carbon copies of one another—one younger and one older.
"Is this his father?" she directed the question towards Ruben. The Spaniard leaned over, a sad smile plastered on his face as he looked at the photo.
"Yes, this is the only photo I've ever seen of his late father when—."
Suddenly, Ruben froze. A chill ran through his entire being like a lightning strike—sharp and cold. He stared at the photo, and as he did, the thought he was chasing before came rushing back through him.
It was the night Ruben had pulled a drunk Sonny out of his car, thirty-three years ago.
His friend preferred to keep his childhood life as private as possible, and had only ever confided in Ruben about his mother's passing once and to no one else. At least to his knowledge at the time. It was a painful time for his friend, especially when he had to relive it every May around Mother's Day. He remembered Sonny refusing to come out of his apartment. And the one time he did, he had attempted to drive drunk. Something in Ruben told him to go check up on the blonde, and so he did. And thank God, he had. If Ruben hadn't pulled him out of the car, pissed drunk and a mess, who knows what might have happened that night.
He dragged Sonny up the stairs and into his apartment, laying him down carefully onto the ratty old furniture his friend dared to call a couch. He mumbled to himself, Ruben unable to catch the words clearly. When he asked him what was wrong, his answer came in the form of a choked sob.
'I hate myself, Ru. She did, I did. It hurts so much.'
Ruben kneeled in front of his friend.
'What hurts, Sonny?'
'Here.' He pointed to the middle of his chest, to his heart.
Ruben pulled the younger man to his chest, encasing him in a tight embrace. He let Sonny sob against his chest. The sounds that came out of his mouth sounded like a man who had lost everything.
'Talk to me, amor.' He only used this word when they were alone, in private, and could let their barriers down. 'You're safe, no one is going to hurt you.'
He rubbed circles on Sonny's back and rested his lightly stubbled cheek against Sonny's bleached blonde hair. It took several more sobs before Sonny was able to find his voice, and when he did, he couldn't stop.
'I just couldn't stop racing. It was my only way t-to still feel Dad in my heart and Mom didn't understand when I tried to tell her. S-So I came home one day and s-she was asleep. I tried to wake her up for dinner, but she didn't. W-When I went to go dump the l-leftovers, I saw an empty bottle of...of her sleeping pills in there. I-I-I called the police. T-They said s-she...she...!'
Ruben didn't need Sonny to finish his sentence to understand. He only held Sonny tighter in his arms as the blonde wailed, repeating the words, 'I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry.'
It was a long night. Ruben's heart shattered into tiny pieces as he held his team mate and friend, listening to those sad, awful sounds. He whispered sweet nothings against Sonny's hair and face, in an attempt to coax all the sadness he had been holding on to for so long out of him. After what felt like an eternity, eventually the man in his arms started to shake less, his breathing started to become more stable.
Ruben took a moment to actually take a look around them as he held onto Sonny in a vice grip. Next to them on the coffee table, he spotted the photo of his papa and playing cards strewn all over the wooden surface. His chest tightened. Sonny had lost both his parents so young. Given his current age of twenty-four, he guessed they must have died within a few years from one another. This poor thing.
Then, an idea came to him. Carefully peeling off one arm off of Sonny's body, whispering to him that he was just grabbing something, Ruben picked up the seven of Spades card off the edge of the coffee table. Sonny's sobbing had subsided enough where he was left hiccuping against Ruben's chest, completely spent from his emotional breakdown. His crystal blue eyes had dulled, exhausted. Carefully, Ruben pulled him a fraction closer to his body, as if afraid he would disappear in his arms. He handed him a handful of tissues, wiping away the tears and mucus off his face.
'Do you remember what you told me about your father, amor? That the seven of Spades reminded him of your mother?'
He felt the blonde nod his head against his shoulder. Sonny's form started to shake again as another sob ripped through him. Ruben merely held onto him, firmly, as they rode through the waves. When he felt Sonny was coherent enough, he continued.
'Your mother loved you enough to have you with your father. And they both, your father especially, loved racing and so did you.'
The head on his chest shook in disagreement. 'Not after Dad died. M-Mom changed, but I didn't want to.' He whispered into Ruben's chest.
'That's right. You loved what connected you to them, and you still do.'
He adjusted himself so that Ruben could meet Sonny eye to eye, his deep chocolate ones to Sonny's soulful blues.
'So, keep the happy memories of them close by.'
He felt the blonde watch him as he slipped the card into Sonny's jean pocket, then guided his hand where the card sat.
'Don't stop racing. Don't stop doing what you love. No matter what has happened, this is how you honor their memories. Make this your ritual. Don't forget, okay?'
He kissed Sonny's forehead when Sonny started crying again. They clung to one another for the remainder of the night. And when the sun finally rose over the horizon, they were found on the couch, having fallen asleep in each others arms.
Tear tracks trailed down both sides of Ruben's face, hand clasped over his mouth.
The seven of Spades had joined the note on the floor.
He was unaware of the others who had gathered around him, asking if he was okay. None of them heard the double doors open, or the footsteps of the doctor that walked through.
"Family for Sonny Hayes?"
Notes:
Updated 11/15/2025
Chapter Text
It took the doctor three attempts to cut through the clamor within the waiting room.
"Family for Sonny Hayes?"
Ruben snapped his head up, startled. The whiplash was so intense, he saw stars at the edges of his vision. But he ignored the sensation, and ignored the others, beelining straight towards the source of the voice. He waved at her, almost frantically.
"Yes! Yes! I am Ruben Cervantes. I am on Sonny's emergency contacts!" he said in one breath.
The Spaniard couldn't be more grateful for his past self when he had forced Sonny to list him as his emergency contact when signing his contract.
'C'mon, Ruben, this isn't grade school.' Sonny laughed, shaking his head.
'I'm aware, my friend. But should something happen, you should always have a back up. Everyone here at APX does, even myself.' Ruben reasoned, splaying both hands palms up, as if to prove a point.
Sonny huffed, staring at the paperwork for a good minute, wearing a complex expression.
'So you'll be there if I put your name on the form?' he asked, challenging Ruben with a single cocked eye brow.
Ruben leaned forward to inch himself closer across his desk. If there wasn't three feet of glass and marble in between them, the tips of their noses would have touched.
'I promise.'
Ruben nearly stumbled into the doctor, like a starving man finally reaching food. The doctor, who was dressed in scrubs and had her mask tugged down around her neck, didn't comment. She merely gave him a grounding squeeze on his bicep—the one connected to his hand that was pressed against his chest over his heart—and nodded.
"My name is Dr. Abigail Griffin. And yes, you are, Mr. Cervantes. Here."
Blinking several times, it took Ruben's brain a second too long to register the handful of tissues in her other outstretched hand. Graciously, he thanked her, lifting up his glasses to wipe his face dry.
The woman studied him for a beat after he pulled himself together. She looked over his shoulder, nodding to the group waiting anxiously behind him. She returned her attention back to him, voice low.
"Mr. Hayes made it through surgery. It was a long procedure, but the outcome was successful."
Ruben nearly doubled over at the words, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding, and all the anxiety within him at the same time. Sonny had survived.
"Gracias a Dios," he muttered to himself, unable to help the laughter that escaped his lips seconds after. Overwhelmed with joy, he hugged the woman. A fresh new onslaught of tears followed.
"Thank you, to you and everyone here who saved him. I...You don't understand how much this means to us," he tearfully shared as he pulled away, clutching his undershirt.
He didn't dare to say 'and me too', although it seemed his face had betrayed him. She gave him a knowing look, offering a soft smile.
"Of course," she responds. "He is stable right now, and has been moved to the ICU for monitoring. We've put him under a medically induced coma to give his body enough time to heal. It will take a few days to clear out of his body, so he should be awake when that time comes. And of course, depending on how his body handles it as well."
Although Ruben hasn't turn his back to see the others behind him, he could hear them whispering and gasping at overhearing the good news. He couldn't help the smile that came to his face hearing Joshua's voice over the rest of them.
"Yes, the old man made it! I knew it!"
"Mr. Cervantes, may I speak to you privately?" Dr. Griffin asked.
"Of course."
They headed into a quiet corner of the waiting area, where the others were out of earshot.
"Is there something wrong?" Ruben asked, his insides flipping inside out with dread.
"Not necessarily, but I wanted to pass along some advice. Are you aware of Mr. Hayes's injuries from his crash in 1990?"
Ruben, taken aback, shook his head 'no'. "I do not know the details."
"I see."
Despite her neutral expression, there was something else behind Dr. Griffin's brown eyes.
Pity.
"I will keep this brief and to the point then. According to his medical records from the 1990 crash, Mr. Hayes had suffered several severe injuries—a C5 neck fracture, spinal contusion, and a compressed thoracic vertebrae. There are others, but those are the worst of them."
All color drained out of Ruben's face as he listened. Externally, he was trying to hold it all together. Inside, he was the complete opposite.
"The nerve and structural damage to his body were severe enough to the point where titanium orthopedic implants were required to keep his spinal cord together."
At Ruben's confused look, she clarified. "As in screws and plates."
"Are you serious?"
He didn't mean to exclaim as loudly as he did, but the anxiety inside him had transformed itself into absolute horror.
"As serious as what I'm about to tell you next. Your friend has several angels looking after him, that much I know. The crash thirty years ago should have ended his life, but it didn't. The crash last night? It should have killed him, especially after everything we went through with him. He suffered a cardiac arrest, two fully collapsed lungs where an ECMO machine had to be used, a seizure on top of that, and multiple bruises and lacerations, not to mention aggravation of the areas he's had prior injuries to. God willing he wakes up and doesn't have any brain damage. He has cheated death twice, but eventually everyone meets their due."
She pauses, letting that sink in.
"If Mr. Hayes decides to race again, in any form, or even gets into an accident in a regular car, he most likely will die. Or worse, live the rest of his life blind or paralyzed, or both, depending on which one comes first. My advice is, if you truly care about your friend, and want what is best for him, convince him to stay out of the car."
Not knowing what to do, Ruben simply nodded. He felt as if his soul had exited his body. As if this moment was too surreal.
Why hadn't Sonny disclosed this vital information to him? Why did he choose not to mention it? Why, why, why?
And worst of all, Ruben asked himself, why did he not look into it when he sought out Sonny?
Swallowing bitterly, he knew why. He believed in the wrong people at the time, naively so after everything he knew Sonny had already gone through, telling himself that this was what Sonny would have wanted him to do. To keep going, to keep racing and winning, for them. And he did, over the years. But reflecting on it all now, he had failed to be there for his friend, who was utterly alone, in pain, who hated hospitals because that was where his father had died, and that he literally had no one else to rely on. Except for Ruben. And Ruben failed spectacularly at that.
How could he consider him Sonny's friend? How could Sonny refer to him as such?
Did Sonny even forgive him? Or did he only come back into the world of Formula 1 because Ruben dangled the opportunity for him to return to the car and the sport, and not because of their past friendship?
He had hidden his pain in Mexico City, he had hidden his medical history from Ruben despite all the risks...
What else was his friend hiding from him? Was it because he no longer trusted Ruben? Or was it because of something else?
Dr. Griffin's next words drew him out of his mind. "I also wanted to mention one last thing."
She shifted on her feet, exhaling slowly, her exhaustion showing.
"During the surgery I noticed several raised lines on his left ribcage. It was well covered up by the tornado tattoo that's currently in that spot, but I know self-inflicted wounds when I see them. They're old, I'll tell you that much, but I would recommend getting a psych eval on Mr. Hayes as well. An accident like the one from thirty years ago can psychologically impact anyone and Mr. Hayes is no exception."
Then she added softly. "As someone who has personally lost a loved one to physical and psychological trauma, it could save yours. Demons like that know how to hide in plain sight. And you'll never know until it's too late."
She gave him a sympathetic squeeze on the arm before ending their conversation with visiting hours opening up in a few hours and they would permit him in and one other person at that time.
Ruben didn't move from his spot after Dr. Griffin departed through the double doors. All the tears within him had dried up, replaced with a deep seated desire to drown himself in a pot of hot boiling tar.
The conversation left Ruben with the horrible reality that painted Sonny's life after the crash. His gambling addiction, the declared personal bankruptcy, the annulled and divorced marriages, the various failed relationships, and all the 'unfavorable' details that the media fleshed out on paper—it all made sense. And in that same horrible reality, Ruben wasn't there to help Sonny through any of that. He practically left his friend to die.
And die, he almost did.
Chapter Text
"Mr. Hayes made it through surgery. It was a long procedure, but the outcome was successful."
There couldn't have been any better news to be delivered in that moment. Although it was Ruben who was directly speaking with the doctor, the woman seemed to have understood that the rest of them, huddled a few feet away from their boss like a pack of penguins, were anxious for the news as well.
They managed to behave themselves for the most part, bar their current number one driver.
Joshua was the most vocal, swinging his arms around Luca and Rico, jumping up and down, exclaiming that he knew Sonny would make it. They were grinning at each other like loons. Joshua's excitement was infectious.
Jodie and Kate clung to one another, hands clasped over their mouths.
Beside them, Hugh had his head tilted up towards the ceiling, his hands pinched in between his eyes in an attempt to abate the wave of emotion threatening to overtake him. Dodge offered him a pat on the back, trying to soothe the engineer through the emotional overtake.
Bernadette and Kaspar stood closest to Ruben. They were both the calmest of the group, the woman merely releasing a sigh of relief, hand over heart. The pair traded looks, and Kaspar couldn't help the huff that escaped his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. In only a matter of minutes, which had now stretched into several hours, he had watched his entire team undo itself in almost near perfect, utter emotional disarray. All because of one man. The prospect was just completely absurd, beyond any logical comprehension. Was he grateful to whatever gods had decided to pulled said man through the depths of hell and back?
Absolutely.
And when the idiot wakes up, he was going to wring him a new one. And by the grace of God, drag Hayes back down to hell himself and beat the living shit out of him for everything he had put them through from the moment he appeared on the tracks of Silverstone. And Ruben probably deserved a good neck wringing too, for inviting the bastard on board to begin with.
Kaspar tilted his head down, placing both hands on his hips, and released his own silent sigh of relief.
'He’s dead. And buried.'
Those were the second set of words he used to directly describe the man who became their second driver as he came up short against Joshua's sector times on Sectors 1 and 2. He shooed those words away from his mind, but it didn’t assuage the slither of guilt inside his chest for even thinking of them right now.
The former rear jackman was very, acutely aware of how close they came to losing their lucky number nine. He had seen his fair share of horrible crashes and drivers surviving their fatalities. Joshua himself was very fortunate to have been one of them. Yet despite the high survival rates, there were a handful that weren't lucky enough to return home to their families not boxed in a casket.
He wished this fate upon no one, not even this asshole that was Sonny Hayes.
Everyone in motorsports, the drivers especially, knew what was in store for them the moment their cars took off from their places on the grid. It was a gamble on their place to the podium, on how would score the most points, and who would come back with both their cars and lives in tact in one piece. The drivers relied on their pitwall team and their pit crew, and vice versa. But even with all effort put in, they could never predict what the true outcome will be, only for what they want it to be.
Bringing himself back to the present, Kaspar pried his attention back up just in time to notice Ruben and the doctor stepping further away from them, out of earshot. His dark eyebrows furrowed, eyeing them like a hawk.
In an attempt to get any dirt on what they could be speaking about, the older man attempted to crane his neck this way and that, inching himself towards the side in hopes of catching something. Anything. But Ruben's back towards them betrayed nothing. He internally cursed. The doctor for sure knew what she was doing. Suddenly, after several painstaking minutes, Ruben gave way.
"Are you serious?"
It wasn't loud enough if one wasn't paying complete attention, like the majority of the others behind him weren't, lost in their whispers and celebration. But Ruben's tone was enough to indicate that whatever was being discussed, it couldn't be good.
It was about a good ten minutes before Kaspar watched the doctor disappear through the double doors, but not before placing a hand on Ruben's arm, almost as if in a sympathetic gesture. Kaspar tried not to assume the worst, holding himself together. It was clear only Ruben could take so much, as did Kate and Joshua. He needed to be strong for them.
Ruben finally returned back to them, pale. It was like he had seen a ghost.
"Is everything okay, Ruben?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet.
The man merely nodded, coughing into his hand. His tone did not reach his eyes.
"Sonny is currently resting in ICU. I will wait here until they will allow myself and one other person to visit him when visiting hours open up. Please, go rest everyone. It’s been a long night."
That got concerned looks from the team.
"And when is that?" Jodie asked.
The team owner sat down in the chair below him. He scrubbed his face with a tired sigh. "At seven o'clock."
They all looked down at their watches or phones. That was an hour and a half from now.
The group started talking amongst themselves on who should go stay with Ruben, others arguing that Ruben should at least go to the hotel and freshen up himself. Kaspar's authoritative tone cut through their chatter.
"Ruben, if I may suggest." He held his hand up when the other man opened his mouth to argue.
"I believe it would be best for you and me to stay here so that the others can go ahead and rest. Ja?" He holds out a hand towards Ruben, nodding. "Key card, please."
Realizing what his team principal was attempting to do, Ruben doubled down. "No, no, Kaspar, it's not necessary—"
"Not necessary, my ass! You've been here for nearly ten hours, Ruben. Look at you. You are a zombie right now! And as much as I'd like to drag you back to your hotel room by force, this is the next best option. Key cards. Now."
Not having the energy to argue his way out of this, Ruben fished the cards out of his wallet and slapped them into Kaspar's hands, giving the other man a hard glare, but it held no heat, only resignation.
Kaspar paid him no attention, handing the cards over to Kate. She took it without hesitation.
"If you can go back to his room and grab him an extra change of clothes, I will keep an eye on boss man here. The rest of you, follow his orders and go rest. I will call the hotel to extend our check out times. And as long as everyone is quick and organized, a few extra hours of sleep will not interfere with our flight schedule.” He turns to meet each of them, and their mixed expressions.
It's been a very long weekend, they could all nonverbally agree on that.
"Not to be selfish, Kaspar, but I think I speak for everyone here. We all want to see him," Joshua piped up, crossing his hands over his chest. "Can we, I mean, later?"
Kaspar opened his mouth to speak, pausing halfway. He glanced over to the other man. Despite his collected demeanor, he could tell the line of guilt that was written in practically every muscle fiber of Ruben's body. None of them knew the true extent of Sonny's injuries yet, or what is current condition is other than "stable" and resting in the intensive care unit was. Which, in hindsight, translated to any series of other complications could occur at any time. And with only a handful of days left before they had to head over to the United Arab Emirates to prepare for the final race of the season, there was still a lot that had to be done.
“I know you all do, but let me be frank. I will not guarantee you that courtesy right now. Ruben and I will determine if he is in the condition to have others see him. They have restricted his visitors to two people, as Ruben just explained. And if he just came out of surgery, we cannot do anything that may overwhelm him. Is that understood?”
Although not everyone liked Kaspar’s directive, they murmured and nodded in acknowledgement. An order was an order.
The group began to disperse. Joshua offered to help put the cards back together, failing spectacularly several times before all the cards made it back in, including the Seven of Spades Hugh finally found swept underneath the chairs. The contents within the green duffle bag were returned and kept with their team principal and owner. One by one, they reluctantly filed out of the waiting area into their Ubers and went their separate ways.
Kate had managed to get an extra large van for herself, Hugh, Rico, Dodge, Luca, and Jodie, since they were all heading to the same hotel. Joshua and Bernadette had gone into their own ride. The trip back was quiet, the cabin space filled with either silence or the occasional yawning. They were each lost in their own quiet introspection, although Jodie, Rico and Dodge were quickly winning a losing the battle against sleep, dozing off as soon as they boarded.
Kate flipped the keycard in her hand absentmindedly, her mind racing a mile a minute at everything that had occurred. She kept replaying Ruben’s reaction when he saw the photo of Sonny’s father, and knew in her gut that their team owner knew something that he wasn’t sharing with the rest of them. It left a bad taste in her mouth.
Spinning the card too hard, it fell out of her hand onto the floor. Kate bent down to pick it up and that’s when she heard it. She looked up across from her to where Hugh sat across from her. His face was downcast, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. His lips were moving, murmuring something incomprehensible. She had seen how he broke down with Ruben earlier in the hospital. He wasn’t the only one feeling the weight of responsibility for Sonny. In an attempt to comfort him, she bent close to grasp his pale Irish hand. A chill ran through Kate when she was close enough to finally hear what the engineer was muttering.
”What if he did it on purpose?”
Chapter Text
The ride back to the Encore was silent between mother and son. Other than the sound of the car engine and the soft hum of the AC, neither said anything to one another. Bernadette spared a few glances at Joshua. He was staring out the window, his reflection neutral. She had learned over the years that when her son is quiet, it wasn't always a good sign.
Contemplating what to do next, she ultimately decided to reach for Joshua's hand. Her heart fluttered when he squeezed back, but said nothing. Nor did he face her.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she watched the buildings they drove past them with little interest. Worry festered in the depths of her stomach, like heated water beginning to boil. She caught herself rubbing the end of her gold heart shaped earring between her fingertips, a habit she had picked up after her husband's passing. He gifted them to her when they had gotten engaged and wore it only during special occasions. Since his death, she wears them every single day.
Bernadette breathed deep, thinking of him. She thought of his smile and how proud he was of their son every time he raced, especially when he won. And how distraught Joshua had become when he lost his father at thirteen.
Her mind wandered back to the accident last night and how it would have turned out if Sonny hadn't survived. The "what-if" on how that would have affected her son trailed along that same thought. As fast as it came, she mentally swat it away, banishing it from her train of thought because it didn't happen.
Thank God.
Yet she pursed her lips. She was itching to know what was going through Joshua's head right now, both to silence the part of her that wanted to protect her son from everything, even from himself. And to assuage the guilt that was gnawing at them both.
When they arrived back at the hotel, they didn't go up immediately. Joshua asked if they could wait for the others. Bernadette obliged without complaint, despite her muscles screaming at her for sleep. They waited underneath the porte cochère, watching the sky lighten into a lighter blue.
Ten minutes pass before they hear the soft rumble of a car approaching. A black Mercedes van stopped in between the two black foo dog statues where they stood. Luca was the first to exit, followed by Jodie, Dodge, and Rico. Kate and Hugh came out last, the blonde closing the door behind them before they moved to greet the others.
They all wore matching bloodshot expressions.
"Are you going to be okay, traveling back alone?" Jodie asked Kate stifling a yawn. "I can go back with you?"
"I'll be fine, thanks Jo," Kate replied. "Our flight's at eight tonight, so it'll be best to get in as much rest as we can before checkout."
At her words, Rico yawned unceremoniously, stretching his arms over his head. "And what time is that now?"
A series of dings and vibrations hit the group.
"Speak of the devil. Three o'clock," Dodge announced, reading Kaspar's text to them all.
They all murmured a collective sigh of relief. This would give them a few more hours of sleep. Something they were all going to need.
"Do you guys think they're gonna let us see him?" Luca asked.
Kate shrugged, huffing. "Depends. It's not our call, as much as I hate it myself."
"Kaspar don't play," Dodge added, folding his hands across his chest. "I don't always agree, but I respect the man enough not to get on his bad side."
"It makes sense," Bernadette interjects. "Sonny is high-risk right now, so it will be best to leave him alone. I'm sure he has the best care there."
The address Ruben had provided took them directly to the University Center of Southern Nevada--a twenty minute drive from the Vegas Strip Grand Prix. It was the area's closest hospital and the only Level 1 trauma center with the caliber to handle severe critical cases.
Kate glanced over at Hugh. He stood next to Rico, shoulders hunched, hands in pocket. He looked as if he was trying to make himself disappear.
"Alright, well let's get to it, eh? I'll keep you all posted if anything comes up between now and when I get back. Keep an eye out for any news from the gents."
Luca cracked his neck from side to side, yawning. He held his arm up, thumb pointing towards the sliding doors.
"See you guys later?"
They all nodded collectively.
"Yeah."
"Bet."
"Good night!"
"See ya!"
The group dispersed, Jodie, Luca and Dodge disappearing down the hallway towards the elevators. Bernadette, Joshua, and Rico followed closely behind, engaged in small talk.
Hugh excused himself and soon enough, he too was gone.
Kate's bodily needs made itself known. She sighed and weaved her way through the lobby, following the signs. Pushing the door open, she beelined towards one of the fancy wooden stalls, and proceed to relieve herself. When she emerged to wash her hands on the granite sink, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
She looked terrible. Her hair was a mess from the garage breakdown frenzy. The bags under her eyes coupled with her already pale skin made it look like she was auditioning for The Walking Dead. At this point, she felt like it too. Turning the faucet on, she splashed her face with cold water, feeling the tiniest bit more awake. Her hair came next, untying the mess and straightening it out the best she could with her fingers.
Without missing a beat, she made her way back out through the lobby and into the elevators, selecting the forty-forth floor as her destination. As the elevator ascended, so did Kate's mind as she replayed Hugh's words.
She didn't say anything in the van, mindful of the others dozing off next to them. As much as she wanted to pin Hugh and find out where his mindset was, it wasn't the right place. They were all operating on no sleep and weren't thinking straight either. Instead, she simply grasped his hand, rubbing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. They made eye contact, exchanging nothing but silence.
It seemed to have pulled Hugh back to reality. He drew his hand back, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He gave her a tense nod, to which she returned, and sat back for the rest of the ride.
She made a note to keep an eye out for the engineer, and find some time to speak with him privately, away from the others. She'd just have to figure out when and where. They were all going to be traveling together for the next twenty-four hours. For now, she stored the task on the back burner. She'd have to attend to that later.
A soft 'ding' confirmed her arrival on Ruben's designated floor. Kate strode down the carpeted hallway, stopping in front of room number 4497, pressing the key card over the reader. Once it blinked green, she turned the gold handle down and pushed the door inward.
The room didn't look any different than the one she was in and probably the others' as well. Kate noted how neat Ruben's personal items were laid out and organized--a reflection of the man himself. She quickly got to work, searching for a bag and some clothes he could use. Red and yellow caught her attention as she worked through the closet. Sitting on one of the lower shelves was a magazine titled "RACER" in white, bold letters. She held the magazine in her hands, inspecting the two racers staring back at her wearing Camel race suits. They were the same two men waiting for her back at the hospital, except decades younger.
There was a hunger in the younger Sonny's eyes, and yet, she could sense a hollowness behind them too. It was faint, but it was there. Like the other times he had opened up to her. She pursed her lips, her mind made up.
Fifteen minutes later, Kate exited the room with a black duffle bag in her hands, heart heavy with resolve.
Chapter Text
The minute the clock struck seven, Ruben made his way over to the nurse's station asking when they could go in.
Sensing his urgency, the woman there explained with a clipped, but not unkind tone that the intensive care unit nurse assigned to Sonny would be out in a few minutes to bring both him and Kaspar into the wing. He listened, albeit impatiently, as she explained the basic rules and procedures about keeping their distance and hygiene expectations. Sonny had been noted as a Level 3 trauma patient, and that the charge nurse would confirm whether or not Ruben could enter Sonny's room.
The reality of a physical barrier keeping him from Sonny sent Ruben into an anxiety spiral, one that Kaspar caught onto quickly when he rejoined him in the waiting area. He didn't say anything at first, trying to process this and the emotions that surged to the surface. A sharp twinge of repulsion rippled in his stomach, at the mockery of being so separated from his friend. It brought back up a deep seated anger he had pushed down in the latter half of his life, when he would think back on how he could have pushed back more against Lotus leadership on seeing his team mate, despite their excuse of focusing on finishing the season.
It wasn't that their reasons were illegitimate. They had scored well in the Constructors Championship and Ruben had gone to make a name for himself as one of the best drivers that year, per the media's predictions. But he left Sonny behind. And no matter how much he wanted to, he could never go back and change that.
The disgust at himself gnawed at him. Every single day. There wasn't a day he didn't regret it. Especially now.
Ruben was pulled out his thoughts when Kaspar inquired about what the triage nurse had said. He repeated everything verbatim, trying to keep the venom in his voice at bay. The conversation morphed into plans for a statement. Ruben excused himself to contact Lisbeth, but Kaspar shook his head, stopping him mid-rise.
"Let me take care of it. You stay here."
"Kaspar, stop. I am a fifty-six year old man, the team owner and perfectly capable of handling this and myself," Ruben clapped back, clearly annoyed. He placed his hands on his hips, in a show of defiance. First the keycard, now this.
"And with all due respect, Ruben, one, I am five years your senior. Two, yes, you are the team owner, but as team principal you trust me to share and handle the entire team for you. And three, I don't give a shit about your tenure in business. Me and you are a team, right?"
He pointed between the two of them, settling his rebuttal with a hard look. There was no heat behind it, but there was concern. And it made Ruben feel inadequate.
Ruben closed his eyes, sighing with restrained frustration. He turned his back towards his team principal, lips pursed. The tenseness in his shoulders radiated down his entire body.
"You're not a failure if that's what you're concerned about."
Ruben stilled.
Kaspar stood and came by his side, his voice neutral and grounding.
"You're doing the best you can. We all are. But the difference between a good team and an extraordinary one is combating the problem together. Plan C, remember?"
At Kaspar's raised eyebrow, Ruben couldn't help the exasperated huff that escaped his lips and shook his head.
"Plan C is for combat," he commented.
Kaspar acknowledged with a side nod.
"I know. And I'm making a new definition right now. Contribution. Allow me to take this off your plate. Bitte."
The air was tense between the two men. Kaspar shifted on his feet, but otherwise said nothing else.
Time moved like molasses.
Lowering his head in defeat, Ruben finally gave in.
"Fine, but let Lisbeth know that I would like to also set up that press conference with Joshua in tow. He wants to speak about Monza."
In the years Ruben had worked with Kaspar, he had become proficient in reading the fine lines under Kaspar's poker face.
"Who convinced him?" he asked, his pause the only indication of surprise.
"No one. He convinced himself," Ruben replied. "He spoke with Bernadette who asked me for the truth. I was not going to withhold that from them."
Kaspar nodded, processing the information. Their plan was to take Monza to the grave, not dig it up and put it on a platter.
Ruben allowed himself a moment of doubt. He couldn't help but wonder if Joshua might crack under the pressure.
"Do you think the media will believe him?" he asked the other man.
APXGP was already under fire with the media attention from their previous races. He knew that if Joshua decided to 'make things right', the results could swing in either direction and either make the team that took accountability or make things much worse. They could accuse leadership for 'forcing' Joshua to admit those statements, or whatever bullshit they wanted to spin.
"I believe the truth will always prevail," Kaspar nodded before glancing down at his watch. He clapped Ruben's arm in a good-natured manner. "I'll be back."
"Yes, yes." His arms were back on his sides at this point, noticeably less tense. Then he added in afterthought.
"Danke schön, my friend."
"Of course."
After Kaspar returned from his phone call with Lisbeth, he rejoined Ruben in the waiting area. Their conversation lasted the better part of fifteen minutes, but he gave everything their PR Manager needed.
"All handled," Kaspar reported. "Lisbeth asked for you. I told her I'd pass on her regards."
Ruben nodded his thanks. "I'll send her a text later."
He had avoided contacting anyone except for Kaspar and Kate after arriving at the hospital. The only phone call he dared to pick up was his daughter's, which went as well as anyone could guess.
They didn't have to wait much longer. A gentleman in dark blue scrubs walked up to them, sporting a medical face mask. He greeted them both.
"Mr. Cervantes? Mr. Smolinski?"
Both men stood up immediately.
"Good morning, sirs. My name is Eric. I am the charge nurse for today's shift. You're both here for Mr. Hayes, correct?"
"Yes," Ruben answered immediately.
"Excellent. Please follow me."
Eric led them to the registration desk. The nurse stationed there asked for their government ID's, which were cross checked against the names Ruben had registered. Once their passports were returned, they were given their individual visitation badges. Both men slipped them on and quickly followed Eric through a pair of heavy-set double doors. The sign above the doors read, "INTENSIVE CARE UNIT" in large, black letters.
The strong stench of antiseptic greeted them as they made their way through the walkway. At this hour, nurses and doctors were already weaving in and out of drawn curtains. Ruben's stomach dropped lower and lower with each bay they passed, wondering which one might be Sonny's.
"I presume you have both been briefed about the hygiene expectations for this unit?" he asked them over his shoulder.
"Briefly, if you can repeat them again, please," Ruben requested. "How close can we get to Sonny?"
"Of course. Face masks and gloves will be required in order to enter Mr. Hayes's room. There is a sanitation area nearby where I will help you both get set up. All protective gear must stay on during the visit and can only be removed once you have exited the room."
They turned left, where the scenery changed into a corridor housing a neat set of wooden doors and windows that lined both sides of the wall. Each room was marked with a numbered plaque.
"Mr. Hayes has been placed in one of our private rooms to avoid the risk of infection, given his current state. His surgery was a success, however his lungs and heart are still weak. At the moment, he has a ventilator to help him with his breathing and an ECMO machine to help deliver oxygen into his bloodstream."
"What is this ECMO machine?" Ruben asked.
"It's a device that filters the body's blood. A pump removes the blood from the body, oxygenates it, and removes the carbon dioxide before the blood is returned back into the body."
Ruben paled at the information.
"Is he dependent on it?" Kaspar inquired.
"For the next few days, he will be. His heart and lungs are still very weak. Both organs will need time to recover without being strained," Eric answered calmly.
"So in other words...he is on life support?"
Kaspar's words were like acid to Ruben's ears.
"Yes, sir. It is only temporary until his body is strong enough to function on its own."
True to Eric's explanation, they stopped in front of a sanitation area. Eric gestured to the sanitizer, then handed them gloves and masks. He resumed his explanation once the two men were properly armed.
"You’ll only be allowed in for fifteen minutes at a time to minimize infection risk. And what you're about to see may be difficult and upsetting. Given his current vulnerable state, I will accompany you inside for both his safety and yours. Please refrain from touching any part of his body. You may sit in the nearby chair beside him if you'd like."
Eric escorted them to a nondescript door marked "107". He gave them a moment before slowly opening the door, entering first. Ruben followed right after, Kaspar a pace behind him. Nearly all of Ruben's strength left him when he came face to face with the scene in front of him.
Resting on the bed was Sonny's still form. His eyes were closed shut, his face completely relaxed. Sonny looked like he was sleeping peacefully and were it not for his unnatural stillness, Ruben would have believed it.
Ruben froze just inside the door, deaf to Eric’s words and the soft click of it closing behind him. He felt bile coming up the back of his throat.
The only thing Ruben could focus on was how frail Sonny looked, like he could disintegrate into dust at a moment's touch. An intubation tube was taped to his mouth, connected to a mechanical ventilator. The screen showed the image of a lung, his heart rate, and other data points Ruben didn't understand. White butterfly bandages were littered across different parts of his head, holding together a series of cuts.
However, what disturbed Ruben the most was the thick red tube that snaked from underneath the covers and into a machine that had several other tubes and wires coming in and out of various places. This must have been the ECMO machine Eric was talking about earlier.
The steady hiss of the ventilator filled the silence until it blurred into something else--Sonny's laughter, faint but insistent, echoing in his head.
He saw Sonny again in that diner, looking at him after Ruben had grilled him into analyzing his younger self on the magazine cover over a dream Sonny had given up on decades ago. The same one that Ruben kept pushing for, because deep down he knew somewhere inside Sonny, he too still believed in the possibility.
We both know how that ended.
The sensations were a blaring reminder of what Sonny had risked coming back to F1.
Coming back to him.
A hot wetness burned in his eyes. He clenched his fists, not having enough willpower to wipe away the tears that fell freely down his face.
Oh, Sonny, what have I done to you?
Chapter 11
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
48...49...50...
Kate couldn't help counting the seconds as the floor indicator decreased. It went down a floor every second and a half.
52...53...54...
The duffle bag sat heavy on her shoulder, even though it only contained clothing and self care items.
56...57...58...
Kate contemplated whether it would be appropriate to start bombarding Ruben with the burning questions she so desperately wanted answers for. She glanced at her watch, noting the time.
6:39 am.
Before she left Ruben's hotel room, she had hailed for an Uber, aligning it to arrive within the next ten minutes.
62...63...64...
She could begin to feel the elevator slow in pace as it finally reached its destination.
...66.
A soft ding signaled she had arrived. She clutched the handles with both hands, knuckles turning white. Every muscle in her body became tense, as if she was preparing for a fight.
Just as the doors slid open, Kate nearly collided with the other person waiting on the other side.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry--"
She looked up, shocked by who it was.
"Bianca?"
Ruben's only daughter was the last person she was expecting to see. Bianca had started working for her father the same time Kate started her career at APXGP, helping him build his investments in the aerospace department, collaborating directly with Kate and her team as needed. They met enough times to become acquainted with one another, and went out for drinks once a while. The young woman was bright, smart, and a shark in the world of business--something Kate both respected and envied. But she liked her numbers more. And they both worked well together.
"Kate! Oh my god, how are you?"
The two embraced. When they pulled apart, Bianca held her at arm's length to inspect her from top to bottom.
"Did I hurt you?" she flashed her a concern look. "You look terrible."
"Gee, thanks," Kate replied with an eye roll. "I'm alright. I was just getting Ruben a change of clothes."
Bianca's gaze lowered to the duffle bag.
"Do you mind if I check it? I'm sorry, my father texted me and requested I grab something for him."
They moved to an emptier part of the hall, Kate holding the handles as Bianca unzipped it open. Her hands pried the opening wider, and stopped.
"Did he tell you to bring this?" she asked, pointing towards the magazine.
Kate shook her head. "No, but I felt it was important." She shifted nervously on her feet. "Why?"
If the other woman noticed her apprehension, she didn't mention it. Instead, she tapped a finger on her temple twice, smirking.
"You must be clairvoyant, Kate, and read my Papa's mind."
She zipped the bag and offered to take it. Kate merely shot her a tight smile, wishing said abilities had been more useful 24 hours ago.
"I'm on my way to the hospital to see him. I have a driver ready, come join me."
Before Kate could argue, Bianca had already turned around and made her way across the white marble floor. Kate, swallowing her pride, jogged to catch up.
Ruben's legs felt like cement as he crossed the distance between where he stood to the chair stationed a few feet from Sonny's bed. His body moved, but his line of sight did not. He couldn't pry his eyes from Sonny's face, specifically at the mist condensating inside the intubation tube attached to his mouth.
The hiss from the ventilator was one thing, but seeing the act of breathing, even if it was through a tube, gave Ruben more comfort.
It was all he could look at when he finally sat down, sagging in the chair.
It was proof that Sonny was alive and breathing, and that he was there, in front of him in the flesh. Not lying on a steel table inside a morgue. With shaky hands, he grabbed a tissue from the small table next to him, and attempted to unsuccessfully wipe away the tears pouring down his face.
Beside him, Kaspar swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Moments like this were difficult. He had recalled his fair share of hospital visits from his time working at Ferrari, and none of them were pleasant. Accidents happened, co-workers get injured on the job. Some survived, and some didn't. It was part of the gig. But the recovery was always the roughest part. Sometimes career ending.
He was relieved Sonny had survived, if only by the skin of his teeth. But Kaspar knew from past experience this was only the beginning.
The American had a long road ahead of him.
Witnessing Ruben sob into the now second set of wet tissues, it seemed Ruben would too.
It was about ten minutes into their visit when Ruben finally calmed down enough, eyes puffy but no longer wet, having nothing else left to offer. He thanked Kaspar when he took the soiled tissues. Sitting back in the chair, he took a long moment to study each device that connected itself to his friend. The one that was on Sonny's right and to Ruben's left--the very machine that determined his friend's continued fate--had two red tubes connected to it. He followed the first one underneath the bedsheets. His heart skipped a beat when it ended at Sonny's neck. The other was further down his body, closer to what Ruben guessed was his thighs.
"Can you tell me more about his recovery?" he blurted out. He didn't face Eric, but he hoped his voice was loud enough over the soft yet insistent beeping of the monitors and machines.
The charge nurse nodded in confirmation, and turned to meet Kaspar with a slight bow in his stance.
Kaspar, getting the hint, gave Ruben a supportive hand on his shoulder.
"I'll be outside in the waiting area. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he advised. Eric informed him that a nurse would be waiting for him back at the sanitation station.
Two minutes later, the door softly shut behind him, leaving Ruben alone with Sonny's unconscious form and Eric's patient presence.
"I want to know what his future will look like."
"Thank you, Richard."
Bianca slammed the door of the black Lexus Sedan closed, waving the driver off.
"Does he always come with you?" Kate asked, walking alongside the younger woman. He hadn't noticed the butler's presence often until she started thinking about all the times she's seen him, and it was more often then she thought.
"Papa prefers to have Richard travel with us when he can. He trusts his butler very much, and it makes things easier for him too," Bianca offered. "He's very hardworking. That is why Papa loves him. And Chaz, too, of course."
"That's right, the two of them are related, yeah?" Kate recalled vaguely.
"Mhm. They're brothers. Richard is older, of course."
The sliding doors opened as they came within range of the sensors. Sunlight filtered through the glass, illuminating the waiting area with a lightness that wasn't present when she left over an hour ago.
The clock on the wall behind the nurse's station read 7:16 AM.
In the far corner sat Kaspar. The man looked as if he was about to doze off.
The pair beelined towards him. Apparently, Bianca's heels were loud enough to wake him up.
"Oh, you're back," he greeted them. Kaspar stood, giving Bianca a kiss on both cheeks. The woman opted to give the team principal a one sided hug as well.
Kate looked around at the nearly empty space.
"Is Ruben in there?"
Kaspar didn't say anything at first, almost as if he was having a delayed response. His facial expression was neutral, giving nothing away. But there was an inherent sadness that dulled his usual omnipresence, if the slump of his shoulders and the tired lines across his face were any indication.
Finally, he nodded. "They let us in not too long ago."
A tense silence fell over them.
"How is Sonny?" Bianca asked, voice laced with worry. "Is my father okay?"
When they spoke hours before, while she was still wrapping up her end of things in the Paddock, Ruben sounded the worst she had ever heard her father. She would be lying if it didn't scare her. After insisting that he can handle himself, Ruben instructed her to take care of things on her end with the investors.
Bianca didn't always come to all the circuits, but Las Vegas was a big deal for APXGP and Cervantes Capitol this season. With a majority of their investors having booked to attend, Bianca made sure her assistants cleared her schedule so she could stand by her father's side. But more than that, she was looking forward to meeting her Uncle Sonny again after the end of the race. It had been fifteen years since they had last seen one another. And even though they weren't related by blood, she liked him the most out of all her tíos.
She had pulled Kaspar aside at the end of the race, asking him to look out for her father, knowing that out of everyone, he would help keep his father in check the most.
Bianca held her breath in anticipation to Kaspar's report.
"He behaved. Had a few breakdowns, but they were necessary."
She sighed in relief.
"As for Sonny, um, he's in the ICU. He...it's not good."
Kaspar crossed his arms across his chest, pursing his lips as he tried to find a way to explain what he had just seen.
And wondering how much longer they would be standing in the same room as co-workers.
Notes:
Shout out to thingsbaker for letting me borrow Bianca Cervantes from their work, "A Different Way to Fly". If you haven't read it, PLEASE go read it. It's one of the best works (IMO) out there for F1 The Movie, amongst many other talented writers and their stories.
And thank-you to WhiteShiro for creating Richard. I didn't ask to borrow him yet, but I couldn't help but include him in here. I'd be happy to incorporate him more if that's alright with you. (Let me know in the comments or Discord). Check out where he came from by reading their work (exclusive to AO3 users only: "Slow is Smooth, Smooth is Fast").
And last but not least, if you're an F1 fan, F1 The Movie Fan, or just like hot old guys who drive cars and are filthy rich or live in a van, come join us in the Discord Group "APX GP". Here's a link to where you can drop in. We're a ban of misfits ourselves from all over the world, just like a real life F1 team! It's a lot of fun, promise. <3
Discord: https://discord.gg/9T8VVeZw
Chapter 12
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eric didn't answer immediately at first, glancing at the door, then at his watch.
"I'd be happy to provide you what information I can, Mr. Cervantes, however it seems our time here is coming to an end," he said, then gestured towards the door. "Please, follow me."
Something inside Ruben rebelled at the nurse’s insistence that he leave. It screamed that he belonged here by Sonny's side, not outside this room or anywhere else. The urge to fight the notion overwhelmed his senses as he stood up. But it was cut short when he stumbled. Stars burst behind his eyes. His eyes rolled back the moment he fell forward. Strong hands managed to catch him right before he hit the ground.
Eric grunted under the weight of Ruben's body. Carefully easing him onto the ground, he checked for a pulse. He sighed in relief when he felt a steady heartbeat under his fingertips, although it was faster than he liked.
"Mr. Cervantes? Can you hear me?"
He shook Ruben twice, but the man didn't respond, out cold.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. He ran towards the patient's bed and pulled the emergency cord just above the patient's head.
A series of rapid knocking was the only warning given before the door was forced open. Two nurses rushed in.
"Grab a stretcher—let’s get him out, now! Full set of vitals, stat!" Eric commanded.
The two nurses bolted, returning moments later with a gurney they lowered to the floor. Together, they lifted Ruben’s unconscious body, securing straps across his chest and legs. Eric gave Sonny one last glance before shutting the door firmly behind them.
"There’s another visitor with him," Eric called as they wheeled Ruben toward the open bays. "Smolinski. Male, early sixties, white hair. Make sure he’s updated."
"Yes, sir!" one of the nurses echoed back.
Kate sat at the edge of her chair, slumped forward with her arms wrapped around her body. Her head hung heavy in between her shoulders. To anyone else, it would have looked like she was simply cold, attempting to close up and gather some warmth against the blaring AC and cold chill of Nevada's early morning. But truthfully, Kate didn’t want to look up—she didn’t want anyone to see the tears gathering in her eyes. She was grateful for the cover her bangs offered.
Next to her, Bianca sat poised, like a model in waiting. Unlike the others, she had managed to steal a few hours of rest that night after leaving the Paddock, and had a strong cup of coffee after her morning run. But if anyone took a closer look, they'd be able to see the storm brewing underneath her earthy brown eyes.
Across from them, Kaspar was leaning back in his chair, one hand propped on the back of the one next to his, holding his head. He was staring straight ahead, but not at anything particular.
He felt the lingering weight of their silent reactions after he had recounted everything from his visit inside the ICU. It wasn't a pleasant picture to paint, but Kaspar was a pragmatist. He figured the two women were level-headed enough to handle the gruesome details, although their wordless exchange made him a bit more destabilizing than he'd rather admit.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Kaspar slipped the device out and stared at the screen. It was a message from his wife, Indra. And with it, a link to an article that was just posted minutes ago. Tapping it open, he was hit with the headline first.
'AMERICAN F1 DRIVER SONNY HAYES NEARLY DIES ON THE TRACK. IS HIS END THE NAIL IN THE COFFIN FOR APXGP?'
Shaking his head, he tsked, shaking his head. Clicking his device off, Kaspar breathed out heavy through the nose, tapping his fingers lightly against his leg. He pushed down the anger that seeped through the cracks.
Thinking of APX, his mind trailed back to his team. There was the matter of figuring out whether it would be a good idea to let the others come visit Sonny or not.
Lost in thought, he didn't hear the sound of the double doors opening. A nurse—not Eric—come through, speaking in an urgent matter to the individual stationed behind the desk, who nodded their chin in their direction. The nurse thanked them before striding over to where they sat.
"Mr. Smolinski?"
Kaspar snapped his head up. "Yes, that’s me," he started.
"We just wanted to inform you that Mr. Cervantes had just collapsed inside the ICU. We're currently monitoring his condition."
The words hit him like a crash all over again.
“What?!”
Notes:
This isn't what I had planned for Chapter 12 initially, but the cast had other ideas...lol.
Let me know in the comments if you guys think Kaspar should let the crew to visit Sonny (and now Ruben) in the hospital before they fly out?
Chapter Text
The three of them were instantly on their feet.
“What happened?” Kaspar demanded. His voice came out two octaves higher than he intended, but at this point, he didn’t give a damn. He glanced at his watch—it had only been fifteen minutes since he’d left Ruben in Sonny’s room.
“It seems he suffered a vasovagal syncope, sir,” the nurse replied. Seeing their confusion, he added quickly, “He fainted.”
Somehow, it shouldn’t have shocked Kaspar. He’d told Ruben—very clearly—to rest before this happened. Damn it. He mentally kicked himself. He should’ve dragged the man’s stubborn ass back to the hotel when he had the chance.
“Seriously?” Kaspar practically shrieked.
He felt a hand tug at his shoulder. When he turned, the frown staring back at him was so familiar it could have been Ruben’s.
Bianca said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her presence alone was enough to pull him back down to earth. Kaspar’s shoulders dropped; his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Patting his back once, Bianca glanced at the nurse’s name tag before facing him squarely.
“Lincoln, were there any other possible causes?” she asked. Her calm composure and even tone didn’t betray an ounce of panic.
From behind, Kate watched, mildly surprised Bianca hadn’t snapped and started demanding answers. It was uncanny how alike she and her father were when it came to handling pressure.
The nurse shook his head. “Only a combination of exhaustion, sleep deprivation, and dehydration,” he replied. “We’ve started him on an IV drip to stabilize his blood pressure. In a few hours, he should be good as new.”
Collectively, they breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” Bianca said. “When can we see him? And where do I register?”
Bianca shot Kate a look, flicking her eyes toward Kaspar. Kate caught it immediately, stepping in to take her place beside him while Bianca followed the nurse—who looked visibly relieved to escape.
Kaspar slumped into the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. His head was starting to pound. Kate watched with concern as he began to massage his temples.
“First Sonny, now Ruben,” she said quietly. “What are we going to do?”
Kaspar snorted. “I don’t know, Kate. This is all too much. I mean, what else could go wrong at this point?”
He threw his hands up. “It’s like the universe is shitting on us!”
Kate didn’t disagree. It was unfair—all of it. Sonny’s crash was fracturing them all, piece by piece. And now with Ruben’s collapse on top of that, it felt like they were all playing a cruel game of Jenga, and two of their base pieces had already been pulled out. If any more were removed, the whole tower would come crashing down.
Kaspar put his head in his hands, shoulders slumped in defeat. “This is impossible, Kate. We can’t win.”
Her heart raced at his words. She felt the world start to close in. No, it can’t end like this.
The rush of emotion hit like a floodgate blown open—every memory, every promise, every fear crashing through her. She wanted to scream into the void, but she refused to accept this as their reality.
Kate wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We won’t win if we don’t try,” she said firmly. “C’mon, Kaspar. Me and you both know we fought too goddamn hard to get here just to give up now. We have to fight this with everything we’ve got.”
“But how? We’re in this mess because of the friggin’ FIA and those stupid forged papers!” Kaspar was practically crying now, at his breaking point. Kate leaned in and gave him a one-sided hug, rubbing his back.
“Fuck them,” she said, channeling Sonny’s own words. “Joshua managed to get us P4 with the old parts. That’s gotta count for something.”
“It won’t if we don’t make P1,” he muttered helplessly. “God help us. I’m so tired.”
Kate stayed silent, holding their team principal together as best she could. Her mind drifted to the others back at the hotel. Mustering her courage, she asked the question she’d been avoiding.
“What do you want to do about letting them see him?”
“We can’t afford any more hospitalizations,” he said flatly. “I won’t permit it.”
Kate rolled her eyes but softened. “I think they can handle it. Ruben’s just… a special case.”
That earned a weak snort. “Yeah. Very special.”
They sat in silence for a moment, both of them stewing in exhaustion and grief. Kate thought about Ruben and Sonny—thirty years of history between them—and wondered if Ruben had ever visited him after the first crash. If not… he was lucky to get this chance again.
“I think you should let them,” she said finally. “If this is the last time we race as a team, they deserve to see them both. That’s the least we owe them—and ourselves.”
Kaspar didn’t argue. He just exhaled and nodded once. “Fine.”
This time, it was Kate’s turn to take the reins. Even though it wasn’t her job, she volunteered to update their PR Manager about Ruben’s condition. Lisbeth, ever the calm voice behind the storm, picked up on the first ring.
“It’s a shitshow, but when is it not?” Lisbeth said dryly over the line. “Half the media thinks this is the end of APX, but there’s a wave of support building too—especially for Sonny. #GetBetterSonny is trending. Even Hamilton and Alonso posted about him.”
“Really?” Kate blinked, her brain too tired to fully process the words. “Well, that’s nice, I guess.”
“‘Nice,’ she says,” Lisbeth teased lightly, though her tone carried fatigue too. “You sound wrecked.”
Kate gave a humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it. Haven’t slept since… I don’t even remember. Maybe I’ll get a nap in on the flight.”
“I feel awful for you all,” Lisbeth said, sincerity threading through the static. “Please tell Kaspar and Bianca that I’ve got everything in motion for Joshua’s press conference tomorrow.”
Kate rubbed her temple, halfway through a yawn. “Wait—I booked him with Pippa to be on the simulator. He’s doing a press conference? What for?”
“Oh, they didn’t tell you?” Lisbeth hesitated just long enough for Kate to feel the shift in tone. “Joshua wants to talk about Monza. The truth, apparently.”
Silence stretched between them.
Kate’s mind scrambled. “Bloody hell. You’re serious?”
“It certainly sounded like it.” Lisbeth exhaled. “He called me after you all got back to the hotel, asking how to ‘go public responsibly.’ His words, not mine. Said he’d cleared it with Ruben.”
“God almighty…” Kate muttered under her breath. “If he’s planning to drop that bombshell now, the FIA’s gonna lose its mind.”
“Maybe,” Lisbeth said. “But after everything that’s happened, a little honesty might finally work in our favor.”
Kate wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream. “Here’s to hoping.”
“'Hope is not a strategy', a wise old man once said.” There was a mirth behind Lisbeth’s voice.
“I think this will work Kate. Have faith. And don’t worry about the simulator. I already spoke with Pippa and we worked out his schedule. He won’t miss a thing,” she reassured her.
“And Kate? Get some rest,” Lisbeth said softly. “You sound like you need it.”
“I’ll try. Thanks, Liz.”
“Of course.”
When the call ended, Kate stared at her phone for a long moment, the weight of that last revelation pressing down on her. She couldn't believe it was finally happening, after all this time.
The glow of the phone screen dimmed, leaving Kate staring at her reflection in the black glass — pale, hollow-eyed, bracing for whatever came next.
She wasn’t sure whether it would save them—or finish them off for good.
When Kate turned, Kaspar was standing near the vending machines, half-finished coffee cup in hand. Bianca had joined him, her posture straight, eyes alert despite the exhaustion creeping into every line of her face.
“He’s stable,” Bianca said before either of them could ask. “They’ve moved him to observation. I’ll stay here with him.”
Kaspar started to object, but one look from her silenced him.
“You two need sleep,” she continued. “Go back to the hotel. Get a few hours in, shower, eat something. We’ll reconvene this afternoon.”
Kate hesitated. Her eyes drifted toward the pair of duffel bags resting on a nearby chair—Ruben’s and Sonny’s, side by side. Different sizes, different colors, yet somehow they looked as if they belonged together. Each carried the weight of its owner: a magazine, a deck of cards, the ghosts of races long past.
They talked briefly about their travel plans for the team. And it seemed Bianca was already several steps ahead of them, producing a file from her bag with their new flight itineraries.
“The private jets will take you, Kaspar, Joshua, and Luca directly to London. The others will fly directly to Abu Dhabi,” she explained.
“And what about you?” Kate asked.
“Let me take care of my father first. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Alright,” Kate said quietly. “Call us if there’s any change.”
Bianca nodded. “I will.”
As she turned to leave, Kate made a mental note to ask her later—when things had calmed down—what she really knew about her father and Sonny in the early days. There were pieces missing in that story, and Kate couldn’t shake the feeling that Bianca might hold the key.
The automatic doors hissed open as she and Kaspar stepped out into the morning light. For the first time in hours, the sky above Vegas looked clear.
Chapter Text
The soft hiss of oxygen filled the silence. Bianca sat beside her father’s bed, his charcoal grey suit jacket folded neatly in her lap. She’d stowed his watch, tie and glasses in his duffel when the staff handed them over. The bag sat neatly on the chair beside her, next to her Uncle Sonny’s green one.
Bianca had one hand wrapped around the locket at her throat. Her other hand was occupied with her phone as she mindlessly tapped through emails and apps, working on autopilot. She shifted a few times in her seat, stealing glances at her father’s chest. Tap, swipe, tap, swipe. Soon enough, every email was answered and every text she responded to. Anyone who attempted to call was sent straight to voicemail. Clicking the power button off, she exhaled—both tense and relieved at the same time–and tucked the device into the pocket of her navy blue blazer.
Sitting all the way back, she watched Ruben’s chest rise and fall beneath the thin hospital blanket. The top button of his dress shirt hung open, his sleeves rolled to his forearms. An IV line traced from his wrist to the humming pump at his side; a clear tube ran beneath his nose. Even in sleep, his features were drawn tight, as if in pain. It broke her heart because whatever haunted him—even now—he’d been trying to hide it from her, too.
The staff had asked if he had any history of any health issues. She’d told them no. Her father was very disciplined about his health, about everything really. He liked to indulge, but always in moderation. It was a principle he raised her on, to ensure her physical and mental health and well-being. Yet ironically, here he was, lying unconscious in front of her, having completely disregarded his well-being altogether in one go.
She bit her bottom lip, fisting the locket in her hand in a vice grip. It hurt her to see him like this.
Bianca turned her attention back to her hand, loosening her grip around the heart-shaped pendant. She turned it around so the flat side was facing up. In small little letters, the engraving stared back at her.
XO - SH
She opened the locket, revealing two small photos inside. On the left was her mother. On the right was her father. Trailed along the bottom edge of both sides was another inscription.
With You, Always and Forever
The locket had been a gift from Sonny when he had visited Madrid. Bianca had just turned fourteen and Sonny happened to be in Spain for a race. Sonny wasn’t always in Europe, but when he was, she’d recall her father attempting to invite him over every time. Given the rarity, she had been elated to spend the night with him. Thankfully her mother happened to be away on a business trip.
She still remembered his strange accent and how much he smelled like the beach.
That night it was only her, Ruben, and Sonny out together at her favorite restaurant, eating and drinking and laughing together. She noticed how Sonny loosened her father’s laugh and smile, how easy he became around her Uncle. It felt very natural.
Like a family.
Then, before the end of the night, right after she blew out her candles, Sonny had passed her a black gift box wrapped in a sparkly gold bow across the table.
That’s for you, sweetheart. I hope you like it. Feliz cumpleaños.
She opened the box and gasped, and couldn’t put it on fast enough before coming around the table to hug him tightly around the neck, thanking him in her Spanish-accented English. Bianca could still feel the warmth of his arms around her, whispering how she could now carry the most important people with her everywhere she went. Her mother, when she saw the necklace, commented on how it hung too low on her chest–probably more annoyed about who gave it to her than the length–but Bianca ignored her criticism. It was from her Uncle Sonny and to her, that made it extra special. She filled the empty spots inside the locket and wore it every day. As she grew into adulthood, it finally sat in the perfect spot. Right under her clavicle, next to her heart.
Inside the locket, the lightly faded photos revealed younger versions of her parents, during a time where the three of them were still together. When life and family was a happier time. Before the divorce. Before she watched her entire world implode and fall apart.
Clicking the locket closed, Bianca moved to unzip her father’s bag, pulling out the RACER magazine. She brushed her hands fondly over the glossy cover. Her father’s younger self smiled back at her, with a confidence and a spark she’d always known growing up. The magazine followed him everywhere he went. It had annoyed her mother, but her father didn’t seem to care. Bianca recalled the stories he’d tell her of his life back in the day, racing his way up to Formula One. And rarely did it ever not include at least one story involving her American Uncle. They were his fondest memories. Every time he recounted them, his face lit up and she could tell he was happy.
After the divorce, Bianca witnessed Ruben chase success with the desperation of a man trying to prove himself. To whom or for what reason, she never knew. It had taken her a long while to reconcile with her mother for what she had done. Despite how much her father had tried to play it off in the beginning, she saw through the cracks and how much it tore him apart. He didn’t trust as easily, became more guarded; smiled less. She wasn’t sure if she could fully forgive her mother for everything she had put her father through. Bianca wanted nothing more than his happiness, permanently and for good.
When she joined APXGP, it wasn't about ambition or following in her father’s footsteps. It was her way of standing guard—of sharing the weight that seemed to grow heavier on his shoulders each year. She’d hoped that if she stayed close enough, she could protect him from the worst of it. But sitting here now, watching him hooked to monitors and oxygen lines, vulnerable and hurting, Bianca wondered if she’d only given him one more reason to keep pushing.
The curtain rustled open, pulling Bianca out of her thoughts. “We’re ready to take you to see Mr. Hayes, ma’am,” the nurse said softly.
Bianca nodded and stood, smoothing her father’s jacket on top of his bag. She placed the magazine right on top. Standing over her father’s resting form, she pressed a kiss on his forehead.
“I’ll be right back, Papa,” she whispered, squeezing his hand once before following the nurse out.
The corridor was colder than she expected, the air sharp with antiseptic. Bianca had never been inside an Intensive Care Unit before. At the doors she sanitized her hands and asked for a face mask, just in case.
Bianca was escorted to a room labeled ‘107’. The door was closed, like the others. There was a small window set into the door large enough to see inside. Through the glass, she could see Sonny lying still beneath a wash of pale light, partially hidden behind half-drawn blinds. The machinery crowded the room, wires and tubes snaking to nearly every part of his body. The walls did little to mute the faint, rhythmic beeping beyond the glass. Panic spiked when she realized his chest wasn’t moving, but the nurse’s calm voice steadied her: his heart and lungs were too weak to work on their own; the machines were breathing for him and filtering his blood. The nurse was patient with answering all her questions on who would care for him and how. She learned that every machine inside that room was keeping Sonny alive and God willing, there wouldn’t be any complications, like infections or relapses along the way. Bianca asked how they would confirm if there was any brain damage from the seizure.
“If you want to know about brain injury, that’s something neurology will help us figure out. Right now our priority is circulation and oxygenation—he’s on ECMO and a ventilator, so we need him absolutely stable before we attach more monitoring.”
“When will you run the EEG?” Bianca asked.
“As soon as surgery and neurology clear him—sometimes within the first day, sometimes a little longer. In the meantime, we’ll do frequent neuro checks—pupils, reflexes, responses—and if anything looks off, we’ll get a head CT. If neurology suspects ongoing seizures, they can start continuous bedside EEG, but with ECMO we need surgical clearance first.”
Bianca’s stomach tightened. “So it’s not immediate.”
“Not usually, with ECMO,” the nurse agreed gently. “We’re watching him closely. The first twenty-four hours are crucial.”
The explanation made her stomach churn.
Then the nurse outlined his routine. It meant around-the-clock monitoring of vitals and organ support. His nurses would assist with toileting and perineal care, as well as bed baths to maintain hygiene.
In a nutshell, her Uncle was at the complete and utter mercy of his assigned caregivers. Had he been awake, she’d bet he would rather be six feet under than having another person wipe his backside. Her head was spinning by the time the nurse left her there alone to give her some privacy.
Bianca’s hand came up to clutch the locket again, unable to fathom this being the reality for her tío. The shape of his face was the same—older, leaner, his hair shorter now. His face, though relaxed, was laced with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it didn’t sit right with her. He always seemed so upbeat and strong and full of life, just like her father. To see him like this…her heart shattered. She could only imagine how her father must have felt. Kaspar didn’t leave out any details when he had informed them of Sonny’s condition before he left earlier with Kate.
Seeing it for herself now, she could begin to understand why her father had reacted the way he did.
The situation disgusted her on every level. She wouldn’t wish this fate on anyone.
The nurse returned a while later to bring her back to the Emergency Department where she found herself seated next to her father, who was still unconscious. Before she left, the nurse confirmed that the request Bianca had submitted earlier had been approved. The team would be able to visit both Sonny and Ruben under strict guidelines. Bianca thanked the nurse. She whipped out her phone. Within seconds, a message flew off to Kaspar and Kate.
As she sat there, a sharp, deep-seated anger made itself known, seeping into every fiber of her being.
From Kaspar’s report, this started before the race, after an anonymous tip to the FIA with internal documents, claiming Kate’s newly upgraded aero parts were manufactured outside Woking. The very idea was absurd. Bianca knew Kate well enough to vouch for her. The technical director would never put the team in such a position. She cared too much and would have chosen to quit than destroy the lives of hundreds of people.
It was crystal clear to Bianca that this was deliberate. Someone inside APXGP was attempting to sabotage her father and everything he had built from the ground up. And as a result, her Uncle had paid the price, fighting for his life. And for her father, everything he had created and loved was about to be taken away from him. Again.
She clenched her jaw, taking deep breaths to placate the scream that wanted to rip itself out of her throat.
Whoever did this targeted her family. And if they thought they were going to get away with it, they had no idea what was coming their way.
Bianca Cervantes was going to come after them with everything she had.
She solemnly swore—they won’t survive me.
Chapter 15
Notes:
We're 15% of the way there! Whoo!!
To everyone who has supported this story, for the kudos, comments, subscriptions, and hits—I thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🫶
Side note for Chapter 15: I am not responsible if you cry reading this. There's some heavy talk about suicide attempts. Have your tissues ready. You have been warned.
Chapter Text
The first thing Kate registered when she woke was her phone buzzing under a pile of clothes. The second was that she still had her shoes on.
For a long moment, she just lay there, staring at the ceiling through one half-open eye, unsure if it was morning or afternoon. The room was still dim, the blackout curtains drawn. Her mouth tasted bitter, and her body ached from sleeping wrong on top of the covers. She’d meant to shower when she got back—just a quick rinse before lying down—but apparently, she hadn’t even made it that far.
When she finally sat up, her head swam. She blinked a few times, trying to piece together where she was in the day. Kate wobbled towards the window. The room felt stuffy, almost suffocating with the darkness. Yanking the curtains aside, her eyes stung as she squinted against the bright sight of a Vegas afternoon.
The Strip shimmered below in mid-day haze, eerily calm after the chaos of the night before. The streets were filled with honking taxis and people streaming along the sidewalks like ants. It felt wrong that the world kept moving while Sonny Hayes laid unconscious in a hospital bed across town. He was just one blip out of seven billion people on Earth—inconsequential in numbers, but one too many for her.
Kate dragged a hand down her face, forcing a breath past the heaviness in her chest.
Her body made its needs known and guided her toward the bathroom. After washing her hands, she made quick work of brushing her teeth and rinsing her face with cold water. Exiting the bathroom, she felt much more alive.
And itched to do something productive with herself.
It took her a few minutes to locate her phone. When she did, the screen displayed a handful of unread messages from various people. There were also several articles related to APXGP, but she ignored those completely. Kate scrolled through her notifications, immediately stopping at the ones sent to her and Kaspar in a group chat with Bianca.
Everyone is all cleared. Come after checkout.
Kate didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she finished reading the rest of the message thread. It detailed a bullet-pointed list of do’s and don’t’s–something she was sure Kaspar needed and would appreciate given their conversation a few hours ago.
She ended up dialing Kaspar’s number. The line didn’t pick up until the fourth ring.
“I figured you were still asleep”, she greeted him without preamble.
“I was,” he answered with a yawn. “I just got off the phone with Zak Brown. Vasseur and Wolff called not too long ago to check in on Sonny.”
The news shouldn’t have surprised Kate, but it did. It was common for team principals to stay connected to one another, mainly for business management and politics. Even the drivers, too, with one another. Each team was competitive with each other, but it seemed they weren’t completely heartless. She knew Sonny wasn’t exactly a grid favorite, given his reckless driving style. And as a woman working in a male-dominant industry, she understood the notoriety. But it looked like everyone had hung up their egos and decided to be human.
“Did you see Bianca’s text?”
“I did,” he replied, voice still thick with sleep—calmer now, but bone-tired. “Let’s get there around three-thirty. That should give them all enough time to see them both.”
She didn’t miss the way he emphasized ‘both’, like he was still wrapping his head around their current predicament. Neither was sure whether Ruben would be able to attend the last race of the season. It would be an awkward affair, given he made it his mission to be at every single one.
The pair discussed logistics on transportation after the hospital visit and the new itineraries for the new flight confirmations. A dinner stop was scheduled in between so they could all refuel before boarding their respective planes. Cervantes Capitol, specifically Ruben and Bianca, had provided the team their own private jets to get to their next destinations. They would split into two groups–the pit crew and engineers straight to Abu Dhabi, while leadership and their drivers would head to Heathrow first, then after the press conference and Joshua’s sim appointment, they’d join the rest of their team in the UAE.
Kate offered to update the team on their new schedule. Kaspar grunted his appreciation, then mentioned a few other topics he wanted to discuss once they were on the plane.
“Do you think Bianca will fill in for Ruben if he isn’t able to attend?” Kate asked Kaspar, half curious to know what the team principal thought. He didn’t answer right away, but the telltale sigh on the other line indicated he’d been thinking about it too.
“We’ll have to speak with her at the hospital. I don’t think it will be a matter of whether he is able to attend, but if he doesn’t want to.”
The answer perplexed Kate. “You think he’d want to stay with Sonny?” It was the most logical answer.
“I do.”
Kate hummed in response. It made sense, she surmised, given how close the two of them were. The way Ruben acted on the track in order to get into the ambulance, thrashing his arms and yelling like he had lost his mind. A person wouldn’t act that way, especially not Ruben, if it hadn’t been for someone important to them. It was clear to anyone with half a brain cell that Ruben cared deeply for Sonny, like he was family. Kate dared to think, perhaps there was more beyond their close friendship. Not that it was any of her business. Or anyone else’s, as a matter of fact. They all had one goal: win and keep their jobs. But the internet and the media clearly had other ideas.
Although she bypassed all the news articles that popped onto her notifications, she didn’t miss the headlines or the insinuations behind them.
Truthfully, she didn’t even want to imagine how the rest of the team would take it.
Kate decided to be mindful and check in on her boss. He admitted that the few hours of sleep they managed to squeeze in after their arrival back to The Encore certainly helped, and he intended to get a few more in before check out. Kaspar told her to take care of herself before ending the call with a brisk, “Ciao”, and hung up the phone.
She braced herself as she opened the group chat and started typing her first update, starting with Ruben.
Within seconds, her phone exploded with messages.
JOSHUA PEARCE: RUBEN WHAT?!
JODIE PHOENIX: OH MY GOD, IS HE OKAY??
RICO FAZIO: WHO’S WITH HIM NOW?
LUCA CORTEZ: JESUS! THIS IS NO BUENO!
JOSHUA PEARCE: NO SHIT, SHERLOCK! ARE WE SEEING THEM BOTH NOW? PLEASE TELL ME WE ARE.
LUCA CORTEZ: I AGREE WITH JOSHUA. WHAT CAN WE DO TO HELP?
JODIE PHOENIX: DOES RUBEN NEED ANYTHING? SHOULD WE BRING HIM SOMETHING?
JOSHUA PEARCE: WHERE ARE YOU GUYS??
DODGE DOWDA: EVERYONE, PLEASE CALM DOWN SO KATE CAN RESPOND!
JOSHUA PEARCE: SORRY, JUST NERVOUS. THIS IS A LOT.
Kate exhaled, fingers flying over the keyboard.
KATE MCKENNA: IT’S OK. KASPAR AND I ARE AT THE HOTEL. JUST SPOKE WITH HIM. HE WENT BACK TO SLEEP.
JOSHUA PEARCE: OH, SORRY.
RICO FAZIO: HE’S GONNA HATE US FOR ALL THESE MESSAGES.
JODIE PHOENIX: DITTO. AND DO YOU AND KASPAR NEED ANYTHING? I FEEL TERRIBLE.
LUCA CORTEZ: WAS HE AWAKE WHEN YOU LEFT?
KATE MCKENNA: NO, HIS DAUGHTER SAID HE WAS UNCONSCIOUS BUT OK. SHE’S WITH HIM NOW.
HUGH NICKELBY: WHAT TIME SHOULD WE LEAVE? WHAT’S THE SCORE WITH SEEING THEM BOTH?
The next fifteen minutes were a blur of Kate answering questions and trying to keep up with the flood of replies. She eventually gave in to Jodie and Luca’s insistence on getting her and Kaspar a few pick-me-up items before they all headed over. Dodge volunteered to join them. Joshua shared that his mother wanted to tag along as well.
Finally clicking her phone off, Kate fell back onto her bed, mentally exhausted. She had to hand it off to Kaspar—she was not jealous of his job, at all.
Kate debated taking a shower, still in the same clothes from yesterday. And probably smelled like a mixture of body odor, motor oil, and asphalt. Her body started to sink into the mattress, lulled by the softness, and soon enough, Kate started to drift back to sleep.
Until her phone buzzed violently against her palm. Kate jerked awake, blinking at the caller ID.
“Hey,” she rasped.
“Hey Kate.” Hugh’s voice was soft, but there was a roughness laced at the edges. “Um, I wanted to know if we could talk. But not over the phone.”
“Yeah, sure,” she agreed, fully awake again. She held her wrist up, reading the time. They had a little over two hours to kill. “You up for a run? We can walk and talk. Meet in ten?”
“Yep, sounds like a plan.”
“Great, see you in the lobby.”
“Likewise. Cheers.”
Kate mentally fist-pumped, both shocked and pleased at how quickly things turned around. She was unsure how or when she’d have the opportunity to have a one-on-one with Hugh, not wanting to wait until Abu Dhabi to have that conversation.
Getting off the bed, she rummaged through her luggage until she found what she was looking for. Discarding her current outfit into a spare laundry bag, she quickly changed into an old team shirt and a pair of leggings. A white APXGP cap was the final touch to her outfit. Securing the hotel key card and her phone inside her waist pack, Kate made her way out the door in a heartbeat.
Thankfully, her way down to the lobby was uneventful—exactly what Kate was hoping for. Unfortunately, as she crossed the red-carpeted lobby toward the entrance, luck wasn’t entirely on her side. She could feel the stares following her, murmurs trailing in her wake. One person even reached out—either to hug her or stop her, she couldn’t tell—but she swerved away without breaking stride.
Finally, she reached the double glass doors and spotted Hugh leaning against one of the black Foo dog statues. He almost blended in with it, save for his red hair and pale skin. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sport sunglasses.
“Afternoon,” she greeted, the word coming out tight. She was itching to get away from here. “Ready?”
“Let’s go,” Hugh said simply.
Neither said anything more. They fell into step together, jogging past the revolving doors and out into the washed-out brightness of the Vegas afternoon. The air was cool, crisp, and comfortable—the perfect condition to work off some energy. For the first few blocks, the only sounds were their shoes hitting pavement, the rhythm of their breathing, and the occasional rush of a car passing by.
Neither spoke. They simply locked in, matching pace and breath, dodging the occasional tourist that wandered into their path. Kate wasn’t exactly sure where they were headed, however it seemed her jogging partner did, so she followed his lead.
The sun beat down on them as they passed Hurrah’s and The Flamingo. Up ahead, Kate spotted the dancing water spouts of the Fountains of Bellagio on the other side of the street. By the time they made it past the Eiffel Tower next to the Paris Las Vegas hotel, both Kate and Hugh had worked up a sweat, and slowed down as they approached the intersection where Paris Drive met South Las Vegas Boulevard.
While they waited for the crosswalk sign to flash white, a siren cut through the afternoon air.
An ambulance streaked past, turning the corner with a shriek of urgency. Kate froze.
In an instant she was back at the pitwall—standing behind the guardrail, the roar of engines replaced by screams. Her heart lodged itself inside her throat.
The signal flashed white and everyone on the corner, Hugh included, moved forward.
It was halfway down the crosswalk when Hugh realized Kate wasn’t beside him. He turned, and saw she was still standing in the same spot. Her face was pale, laced with panic.
“Kate?” he called out, jogging back to her. He reached for her shoulders, giving a light shake. “Earth to Kate?”
Her eyes were glassy, unfocused.
So he did the only thing he could think to do—pulled her into a hug.
Kate snapped her head up, blinking rapidly. Hugh pushed his sunglasses up, worry etched across his face. Why was he hugging her? She blinked a few more times, finally noticing the wet marks on his shirt. Moving to touch her face, Kate didn’t realize she was crying.
The sound of the city returned—the hum of engines, the faint murmur of traffic, the sharp scent of asphalt. Her pulse began to steady.
“Hey,” he said to her gently, drawing circles on her back. “You’re safe. It’s okay.”
Kate swallowed hard, emotion surging through her chest. She shook her head, clutching the back of his shirt.
“No, it’s not, Hugh.” She leaned into him, voice breaking. “None of this is okay. You said it yourself, didn’t you? You think he did it on purpose?”
Hugh pressed his lips together, looking down at the ground. A tense silence fell over them as they stood there together in each other's arms, ignoring the occasional passerby or the noise of cars zooming by.
“I did”, he admitted, his voice small and filled with shame. “It was the only logical thing my brain could come up with.”
Kate didn’t move, simply holding onto Hugh as he continued.
“He’s never driven like that before, y’know? Angry. Ruben even said it on the comms, that it wasn’t good. I just…I keep wondering if maybe he felt guilty about the aeros.”
At that, Kate gently pried herself away from Hugh, taking a real good look at him.
“That’s bollocks, and you know it,” she snapped. “I agreed to make them. If anything, the fault’s mine—but you and I both know those internal documents are fake. If only we can somehow convince the FIA.”
She wiped her face with the edge of her shirt sleeve, anger at the unfairness of the situation burning deep in her gut.
“What if he didn’t see it that way?” Hugh challenged. He finally met her searching gaze. “I don’t know if you noticed, but when he’s the butt of a joke or an accusation, he just doesn’t fight it. He just lets that person or the situation run over him, like it’s nothing.”
“Like he deserves it,” Kate finished for him. Based on his facial expression, he was thinking the same thing.
They exchanged a look. The tension eased slightly, but the heaviness remained.
“Yeah, that.” He shifted on his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands. “I once asked him about his parents, y’know. He talked about his father sometimes, but I never heard him once talk about his mother. I did one day, just out of curiosity, and he just deflected, instantly.” Hugh snapped his fingers, emphasizing his point.
“His whole demeanor changed too, so I backed up and we talked about something else. But Kate, that look he gave me…it belonged to someone who had been through hell and back. I don’t know what happened in his past, but if I was in his shoes and was about to lose everything again, I think a part of me would want to go out on my own terms.”
Kate drew in a breath—once, then twice. She didn’t want to say the word. Back at the hospital, she’d thought it too, the same dark possibility neither of them dared to voice. She hadn’t wanted to give it power. But even unsaid, it already had power—seeping through them, breaking the team apart piece by piece.
“You think this was a suicide attempt?”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
The world seemed to hold its breath. Even the noise of the city faded; Kate swore she could hear a pin drop.
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Hugh whispered. His voice was frayed at the edges. “I just…I just pray it wasn’t.”
His eyes shimmered, and for the first time, Kate realized he was just as scared as she was.
Hugh’s hand came up to clutch his shirt, right above his heart.
“My uncle took his life when I was a kid.”
Kate’s eyes widened. Hugh was one of the most reserved people she knew; he never talked about himself.
“My parents split when I was little. He was the only constant in my life. He got me into racing, actually. I didn’t want to drive—I loved the data. I wanted to support. That’s why I became a race engineer; I got to do both.”
He smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes.
“He used to say I was the only good thing in his life. But he couldn’t stop drinking. Couldn’t stop using. And one day, I found him—OD’d on the couch.”
“Oh, Hugh,” Kate muttered. She clutched his hand in hers as he dragged his other hand across his face.
“Him and my mom grew up in an abusive family. They spared me the details, and they never laid a hand on me, but I saw the effects it had on them. And when he died, I—”
Hugh’s voice broke. His shoulders folded inward as if bracing against something invisible.
“I blamed myself. That I didn’t see the signs sooner, o-or got him help. Mum said there was nothing I could have done, but I didn’t believe her. And now…”
He cracked.
“I don’t know if I can go through that again.”
It was Kate’s turn to embrace the taller man. She gently nudged him over to the side of the building, seating them both onto the ground. Kate didn’t move. As tightly as she could, Kate held him in her arms as he cried into her shoulder.
A few passerby's glanced over at them, but otherwise moved on. The rest ignored them.
They stayed on the ground until Hugh’s sobs turned into hiccups. All the strength he had was gone, and he leaned into Kate’s presence, spent. Kate simply held him, quietly processing everything herself. The desert wind carried the faint hum of Vegas traffic post race day, and Kate let herself breathe through it.
“I’m sorry for dumping all that on you, Kate. That was unprofessional of me,” Hugh sighed. He took the offered tissue from her waist pack, blowing his nose. “You’re already doing so much for the rest of us.”
“Nonsense,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate what you did earlier for me. I do.” She gave his shoulder a firm squeeze.
“And thank you for trusting me enough to share that. Loss is never easy. And I’ve never lost anyone to suicide, so I can only imagine what that’s like.”
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Sonny’s still with us, Hugh. What he did—whatever he’s done—wasn’t your fault. Or any of ours. There’s still time to be there for him. To show him he doesn’t have to face whatever’s haunting him alone.”
She managed a small smile. “Me, you, Ruben, everyone else—we’ve got each other’s backs. No matter what happens to the team. We’re family.”
Hugh nodded. “Yeah, APXGP. I think if Ruben ends up selling the team, we should all petition to have the new owners change the team name. APXGP is ours.”
She smirked at his remark. “Damn right it is.”
The duo made it back in time for a quick shower before the clock struck three.
Jodie waved from across the nearly empty lobby as Kate trailed in, luggage rolling behind her. Only the APXGP group and a few guests lingered near reception.
Kaspar collected her key card, then made his way over to speak with the representative at the front desk.
“Here—we grabbed you some coconut water and fruit,” Jodie said, holding up a biodegradable bag. “Oh—and some lemons, pink salt, and Essentia. Quarter of a lemon, pinch of salt—boom! Instant electrolyte water.”
Jodie emphasized her sound effect by smacking her fist into her open palm. She practically beamed at Kate’s flushed face.
“Boom, huh?”
“It’s a Ruben thing. I learn from the best,” Jodie said with a wink.
Kate laughed, and shook her head. It was definitely a Ruben thing.
“Thanks Jo. You seriously didn’t have to do that.”
Jodie gave her a gentle shove, lips curving in a playful pout.
“A girl’s gotta stay hydrated. Besides”—she grinned—“you know I’ve always got your back.”
Bernadette came up to the two women, producing another bag filled with Epsom salts and a heated sleeping mask.
“Kaspar said the seats recline. These should help you unwind a bit while we’re in the air.
“Thank you, Mrs. Pearce. I appreciate it.”
“Of course, dear—and Bernadette, please.” She whistled, catching the attention of the others. “Boys?”
Joshua and Luca jumped to attention, hurrying over. Together, they hauled Kate’s luggage and the gift bags into the shuttle bus waiting for them outside.
Dodge was already outside, speaking with the driver while Rico while helping Joshua and Luca load up the luggage.
One by one, the team filed aboard, dressed in soft loungewear. Hugh climbed in last after stowing away his bag in the compartment below. When his green eyes met Kate’s, there was a new lightness there.
Kate leaned back in her seat, allowing a small smile to slip. It’s been a rough morning—but they were taking it one step at a time.
When the doors closed, the bus pulled away.
Chapter 16
Summary:
Sonny awakens.
The theme of this chapter also aligns with "Whumptober 2025's Day 13 Prompt", which also happens to be "Never Enough", lol.
Chapter Text
Sonny’s eyes fluttered open to a wash of white. Shapes bled through the haze until a wooden ceiling came into focus.
Huh, he thought. He was expecting to see God sitting on a throne of clouds, or a fiery pit in Hell. Instead, warm sunlight filtered through cream-colored curtains, gilding the room in honey gold. Dust motes drifted lazily in the light.
Somewhere beyond the curtains, he could hear birds chirping.
Slowly, he pushed himself upright. The sheets pooled at his waist, pale blue and soft against his fingers. Linen. There was a familiarity to it as he traced the weave absently, as if testing whether it would dissolve under touch.
Beside the bed sat a small wooden table stacked with books—some titles he recognized, others half-remembered. Across from him, a bookshelf overflowed, and behind its glass doors, trophies gleamed in neat rows. His gaze caught on one engraved plaque:
WINNING DRIVER
FIA FORMULA 3
CHAMPIONSHIP
1984
Sonny swung his legs off the bed. His fire-retardant shoes hit the hardwood. He was still in his APXGP race suit, sans the gloves and his helmet.
Crossing to the dresser, he opened the door. Inside hung clothes that wouldn’t fit him anymore—shirts with faded logos, sleeves too short for his arms. He pushed them aside until his hand brushed a flash of white and blue: a race suit, pristine, untouched by time. Etched into the waist was an American flag patch and HAYES in black letters.
1984—the year he came back to racing after losing his father. His mother became his partner, learned his world, learned the rhythm of pit stops and sleepless nights beside him. It was grueling, yes—but she’d smiled so proudly that season, watching him climb every podium. He’d done everything he could to keep her smiling like that.
The air smelled faintly of motor oil and detergent. Sunlight hummed. The room felt preserved rather than lived in, like a photograph someone forgot to finish developing.
And then he knew. He was home—though the air felt too still, as if the house itself were holding its breath.
Closing the dresser, Sonny padded toward the bedroom door and turned the knob.
The hallway greeted him with a draft that smelled faintly of detergent and something richer—food, maybe. Then came the humming.
His stomach tied into knots. Still, he moved.
The walls were lined with framed photos—birthdays, trophies, smiles. But every frame caught the light wrong, the reflections swallowing the faces.
The humming grew louder, the air warmer. When his feet hit the main floor, he rounded the corner toward the kitchen. He knew the path by heart.
A tall woman stood at the stove, back turned, blonde hair catching the light. When she turned, her face was exactly as he remembered—radiant, kind, impossibly young.
“Good morning, my little sunshine,” she said, voice lilting with warmth. “You’re finally awake.”
“Ma?”
The woman moved to take a seat, coffee in hand. She gestured towards the empty seat at the table.
“C’mon, sit. Your breakfast won’t eat itself.”
He obeyed automatically. If she noticed the fireproof suit, she didn’t mention it. On the plate before him sat roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy—his favorite. Steam curled upward, yet the smell was faintly metallic.
“H-How are you here?” he couldn’t help but ask her.
She gave him an expression of mock hurt, setting her mug on the table.
“I’m always here for you, Sonny. I never left.”
His mother took a bite of her food. He took a bite. The taste nearly broke him—it was perfect. Just like she used to make. Tears burned behind his eyes.
“Atta boy,” she murmured, stepping close, wrapping him in her arms. Her kiss pressed against his hairline, familiar and cold.
Her skin felt colder than he remembered.
“I’ve always been here,” she whispered. “You just pushed me away.”
A spike of anger cut through him. The image of her body on the bed—the empty bottle of sleeping pills in the trash—hit him full force.
He gripped her arm. “That’s not true. You pushed me away first,” he said through clenched teeth. Something inside him cracked. “Wasn’t I enough for you, Ma?”
Then something tickled his cheek.
He froze.
It wriggled.
The sweetness of gravy turned rancid on his tongue.
He jerked back—her glow gone, skin gray and torn, maggots spilling from her mouth and crawling down her neck.
“Jesus Christ—”
He stumbled back, chair crashing, plate shattering—the smell hit him full force. The food crawled.
He gagged, dry-heaved, bile and horror fighting for air. Shoving a finger down his throat, he vomited hard onto the floor. Maggots writhed there too. His breath hitched; a strangled sound tore from his chest, half-scream, half-sob.
Footsteps approached, deliberate and slow.
“You can’t outrun your ghosts, my child. We’ll always find you.”
Sonny ran.
He tore down the hall, heartbeat roaring in his ears, the house stretching around him like it was breathing. Instead of climbing the stairs, he hurled himself at the front door and wrenched it open.
Slamming it shut behind him, he bolted forward—only to skid to a stop as his shoes met open air.
A cliff.
The sunlight from moments ago was gone, devoured by a churning sky. Thunder rolled overhead. Far below, black water smashed against jagged rock.
“Holy shit—” He stumbled back.
The front door creaked open behind him. His mother’s decaying figure stepped through, eyes pale, lips curling in something that used to be a smile.
“S–Stay away!” he shouted, but his voice broke, swallowed by the wind.
He spun in circles—only the cliff and the door. Nowhere to run.
“That’s right,” she said softly. “Now it’s time for you to go.”
“Don’t come any closer!”
“Oh no, my boy.” Her voice dropped, almost tender. “You misunderstand. I don’t want you here. I want you gone.”
She lunged. Her hand, cold and unyielding, caught the collar of his race suit and hauled him toward the edge.
“This is for your own good.”
He clawed for her arm, gripping hard—but her flesh tore away like rotted bark.
Then he was falling.
The ocean swallowed him whole.
Cold crushed his ribs. Water filled his mouth, his lungs, his world. He kicked, flailed, reaching for light that wasn’t there. The roar in his ears grew louder until it was all there was—
—and then, nothing.
Chapter Text
The first thing he noticed was the searing heat on his face. It was hot, almost burning. He screwed his eyes shut, groaning at the weight that sat on him like a thousand pounds. His head was pounding. A sudden splash of water hit his face and he sneezed at the burning sensation up his nostrils. Salty and scalding. Coughing the water out of his trachea, Sonny peeled himself off whatever surface he was on, looking around.
It was some kind of beach, surrounded by a blazing blue sky and a shining sun. He brought his hand up to cover his eyes, surprised to see he was still in his APXGP race suit. Twisting around, his body was half buried in wet sand, the edges of crystal clear waves lapping lazily against most of his body. He tried to remember how he got here. But all he could do was draw a blank.
Deciding that wasn't the most important thing at the moment, Sonny pried himself from the sandy edge, stumbling up the shore towards a boardwalk. He grasped the wooden railing, winded by the weight of his suit. It stuck to him like a second skin, and in the heat, it felt sticky and uncomfortable. Sonny practically wrestled his way out of the suit, first kicking off his shoes and peeled off each mismatch colored sock with more effort than necessary. Next, he pulled out his arms, then pushed the fire retardant fabric down to his ankles, kicking each foot loose. Too bad they didn't make the suits water proof, he thought, equal parts annoyed and relieved to finally be out of that thing. His undershirt and fire retardant briefs remained on. They were wet as well, but Sonny felt a lot better than he did mere minutes ago. With how hot the heat was, it would only be a matter of time before both articles of clothes would dry off on their own. Or at least, he hoped so.
Taking a gander at his surroundings, the boardwalk led to a series of buildings a little whiles away. He'd have to get closer and check it out. He turned back to the beach, taking a moment to truly take it all in.
It was a sight to behold.
The water went as far as the eye could see, hitting the blue clear sky of the distant horizon. There was nothing but water for miles on end. He tried to see where the beach started and ended, but that too was as endless as the water, stretching from one endless side to another. Other than the boardwalk and the little town, there were no other structures in sight.
As tranquil as the scenery was, it didn't sit right with Sonny. It felt like something was off. This was too peaceful. Too tranquil. It's a scene he has never truly known, or if he did, he doesn't remember. Sniffling, he hung up his suit against the railings, hoping that a few hours in the sun would dry it up. He didn't enjoy walking barefoot in underwear and a long sleeve shirt, but he'd have to make do for now.
He started walking up the boardwalk towards the buildings in the distance. The wind blew past him, ruffling his messy strands. It took him a better part of about fifteen minutes of walking before the wooden planks of the boardwalk turned into grass. He peered down at the green foliage, spotting a stone trail. Seemed simple enough. Follow it and see where it led.
He passed an old, faded sign that said "Welcome to", with the last word faded out and ineligible.
The path took him through what looked to be the center of town, wherever that was. The houses and shops were empty sans a few rocking chairs on porches, waiting idly for their owners to occupy them. It was eerily quiet, like a ghost town. Sonny wondered who could have lived here, or if they were still here, where were they?
As he followed the trail further down, it led him to an open marketplace. The stalls were filled with various fruits and vegetables. Flower pots, clothing, and little trinkets were on display as well, each hand crafted and welcoming. There was a familiar feeling to the place--one he couldn't quite put his finger on. He walked further down.
A sweet, nutty smell caught his senses. He sniffed, once, and his mouth watered, registering the scent. His feet moved on its own, as if it knew the path by heart. Sonny stopped in front of a small little restaurant with a walk-up window. It was made of brick walls, the awnings a spring green. Plastered on the singular slide window read "Ocean's Pop Shop". The window was cracked open, like it was left intentionally that way to lure customers in. He sniffed deep, taking in the warm, buttery scent that came from the kitchen. Sonny could see the freshly made popcorn inside the popper machine, right next to the window.
If only he could reach in and grab some...
"Hey, mate. You looking for this?"
Sonny jerked around, twisting his body around so fast his head whiplashed.
A figure stood a few paces away--a young man with dark skin, sunglasses, and an easy grin. On him was a Tommy Hilfiger vest. He held a paper bucket filled with popcorn.
"JP?"
Sonny blinked a few times, making sure he wasn't hallucinating.
"I assure you, I'm as real as you, Old Man--and that's saying something," JP retorted in mock offense. He gave Sonny a once over and added. "Nice suit, by the way."
"W-What are you doing here?" Sonny asked, ignoring his comment about his attire, or rather, lack of.
"I was gonna ask you the same thing. But it looks like we both came for this," he said, walking towards Sonny. JP took a handful and held out the paper bucket towards Sonny as he ate his share in his hands.
"I gotta say, you got good taste. Ain't nothing like this back at home."
"Uh, right." Sonny gave him a perplexed look, and took a piece for himself. As he popped the kernel in his mouth, sensations and memories came rushing into him like a freight train.
His old room. His mother's decaying body. The maggots. Him falling into the water. Drowning.
Sonny practically spit out the kernel, coughing his lungs out. He checked to see if was moving at all. When it didn't, he held his stomach and sighed in relief.
"Oh, you don't have to worry about creepy crawlies here. That's reserved for the 'don't-go-there' island. Not fun," JP commented, popping another kernel in his mouth.
Sonny looked at JP, studying the rookie before him. "How the heck do you know that place? And why the hell are you here, Swan?"
"Whoa, no need to get aggressive, cowboy. You summoned me here, so I came."
Sonny reeled back. "No I didn't."
"Uh, yeah, ya did." JP cocked his head to the side, an eyebrow raised. "I will say though, this place is cute. I kinda like it."
Sonny ran his hands over his face and sighed. What the hell was going on? He tried to recall what had happened before he woke up the first time. There was the car, the track. He remembered his feet hitting the pedal, speeding past the other drivers. His hand automatically went to his hip, where his race suit pocket would have been and his card.
Ah. The card. Right.
He had slammed his entire deck of cards against the walls of his room right before the race, in both frustration and anxiety. Kate's new aeros had to be replaced with the shitbox version and Sonny, in the midst of his own internal chaos, forgot the most important part of his racing ritual.
Always have a card in the pocket.
Sonny vividly recalled the fear that overwhelmed his entire being as he heard the monster's voice, the one that haunted his dreams for years until the ritual gave him a sense of grounding. Then, he finally got back into a car and started driving. Fleeing, away from the voice and away from the emotions that came with it. And he figured, if he combined both together, it would never touch him ever again. That he would be free of the darkness that lived inside his heart, that attempted to drag the fragile organ down into the abyss and rip it apart, over and over again, until there was nothing left.
He figured he could live with all of his past mistakes.
But the one thing he couldn't live with was breaking his promise to Ruben, and to himself, all those years ago. To hang on to life by keeping the happiest memories close. Always with him, for the most important parts of his life.
And when he didn't have the card in his pocket as he raced down The Strip, it felt like utter betrayal of his promise, to both himself and to Ruben. Even worse, it was because of his stupid ambitions that got the team sacked. He only wanted to help, but every time he tried to make things better, he only made them worse.
Sonny was convinced that he was born cursed. And that he would suffer before he'd die. He surmised living in the pain he had after Jerez counted as his start to a life of torture, followed by his opioid addiction shortly after, and his gambling issues next, where he lost practically everything. It was hell on Earth, to suffer in ways he didn't think were imaginable, but they did.
But if it was only happening to him and no one else he cared about, that's alright, right? As long as he was the only one hurting, and everyone else was okay, he'd take it. Any day, every day. Sonny was used to pain, used to suffering, even though it sucked. Guess it was better one than the many.
Besides, bad luck only happened to those who weren't enough to be lucky. That was him.
Unlucky. Unlovable. Unworthy.
So he forgot the card, broke his own cardinal rule, and now he was fucking dead. He had to be. There was no way he would have survived his crash. Otherwise, he would have woken up in a hospital with bright white lights and machines, not a zombie lady that looked like his mom or JP talking to him in his former hometown.
The realization of where he was hit Sonny square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.
His hometown. Sterne.
That was the faded word on the town's welcome sign.
It had been a quaint little town in the middle of Indiana, close enough to the Town of Speedway and the Indianapolis race tracks but far away enough for some privacy. Decades have passed by since he had stepped foot back into that place. He had left Sterne behind, in hopes he could run away from the memories that he didn't want to remember. So why was he back here, and with JP of all people?
Wait, did this mean JP was dead too?
"Nah, I ain't dead. But you might be, if you don't get your shit together," JP answered for him.
Sonny shot him an annoyed look. "Will you stop doing that?"
"What? Answering your questions by listening to you think telepathically?"
"Yeah, that."
"Just for the record, you're a really loud thinker."
"I don't care, just stop it."
"I can't," JP replied, turning serious. The mock playfulness from before had all but disappeared. "I am you, and I guess you are me in this case. As much as I despise you, I am you."
Sonny was starting to get a headache.
"Yeah, me too, mate. Me too."
Deciding he needed a change of scenery, Sonny walked past JP and started heading towards another part of town. JP fell into step beside him.
"Just for the record, I was serious when I said you might die if you don't pull yourself together, Sonny," he repeated, munching on the popcorn.
The blonde paused. JP had never called him by his first name before. It was either Old Man or some other stupid insult. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it and decided it wasn't worth asking. This was getting weirder by the second.
"Care to elaborate?" he finally decided to ask instead, resuming his trek.
"You ain't dead, yet. But you will be if you decide to just roll over and die. Like, literally black out and never come back."
Sonny snorted. "That sounds like heaven to me," he replied. That didn't sound like a bad gig if it meant he could leave behind all the baggage that was weighing him down.
He could feel JP reel back, surprised. "And what about everyone else?"
"What, like you?" Sonny couldn't help but laugh. JP didn't need him. He would manage on his own, as would the others. With some fine tuning JP would become a great driver. Ruben won't have him as a liability anymore, and Kate would come up with a different plan to get around those FIA assholes. His team--Ruben's team, not his--would do just fine.
"Yeah! Of course, you prick! You don't think we need you, but we do. You matter to us. To me."
That hit Sonny in a way he wasn't expecting. He felt his heart tug at the words, like a slice against skin that was enough to hurt, but not deep enough to scar.
Sonny shook his head, grateful to see their destination looming up ahead. "Don't flatter yourself, kid. I'm just there to help out, then I'm bouncing. Ain't gonna stay around dealing with a dickhead like yourself. And if I kick the bucket," he shrugged, giving JP the best nonchalant expression he could muster, "that's what fate had in store for me. I ain't gonna fight it."
It was JP's turn to shake his head. "You're an arsehole."
Sonny huffed. "That's my middle name."
They came upon an open field, where an old mechanic shop stood, worn and grey. The sign next to the entrance read, "Slugger's Repair Shop".
Sonny swallowed the lump inside his throat. The sight of the old building brought back a lot of happy memories, and sad ones too. This had been one of the places, besides his family's home, where he had spent time with his parents working on cars, learning the ins and outs. It had been a sanctuary for a long time, until it wasn't.
"So this is where it all started, yeah?" It was posed as a question, but it came out more like a statement.
Sonny didn't say anything, contemplating whether he had the guts to even walk up the stairs. He didn't notice JP take off his sunglasses until his designer clad body started making its way up the steps. Halfway up, JP turned back towards him, beckoning him to follow.
"Too chicken, old timer?"
Sonny froze as he looked directly into JP's eyes, which were a solid black. There was no iris. No white. Just a pitch black void staring back at him.
JP smiled--all pearly white teeth, then continued up the porch and stepped inside. Sonny wasn't sure whether he should high tail it and run, or follow. If he ran, where would he go? Based on what he saw earlier, it was Sterne and an endless beach. And if JP--this version of JP--decided to follow or chase him? Clad in his underwear and barefoot, he probably wouldn't get very far.
Pushing down the anxiety churning in the pit of his stomach, he put one foot in front of the other. A moment later, the front door closed shut softly behind him.
Inside the ICU, room 107, Dr. Griffin returned from her break to check on her patient from earlier that morning.
"Alright, Mr. Hayes," she murmured, glancing at the monitors. "Let's see how you're doing now,"
The readings came back steady--thankfully stable. She exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing. It had been a long night; she hadn't handled a trauma case that sever in years. the notes from the incident involving Mr. Cervantes were still fresh in her mind, and she couldn't blame the man for his reaction.
Too often, she thought, survivors and the people who love them suffer together--each believing they're bearing it alone.
After finishing her charting, she whispered a small prayer and stepped out, closing the door softly behind her
In the stillness that followed, Sonny's fingers twitched.
Chapter 18
Summary:
The team finally gets to see Sonny.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
One by one, they exited the shuttle. The team regrouped underneath the faded green canopy in front of the entrance. They all looked worse for wear, but felt marginally better than they had several hours ago.
The ride over to the hospital took nearly thirty minutes--twice as long as it should have--with traffic jammed from post-race crowds making their way out of Las Vegas.
The delay didn't help the nervous energy they were all sporting--except Kaspar. He had proceeded to nap on the way there while Kate and Dodge wrangled the rest of them in.
Jodie adjusted the strap of her mini rucksack for the umpteenth time as they gathered around Kaspar and Kate.
She felt a hand brush against her own. Glancing sideways, Luca gave her a half-smile before he took her hand and squeezed it. A flutter of relief passed through her. Jodie quickly returned the gesture, turning back to the team principal.
"Alright, so to repeat the rules of the visit. I will accompany each of you individually into the ICU with a nurse. Sanitation before entering will be required, including face masks and gloves. You will have the opportunity to see Sonny through the window for fifteen minutes, and then we rotate." He paused, making eye contact with everyone. "After we finish with Sonny, then we can go see Ruben. Any questions?"
Rico raised his hand, having already done the calculations in his head. "So that's two hours with Sonny, and how long with big boss man?"
"About two for Sonny, give or take, and probably thirty minutes to an hour with Ruben," Kate answered, one hand on her hip. She nodded when another hand came up. "Joshua."
"We can't go inside the room?"
Kaspar shook his head. "No, it's off limits to avoid any further contamination."
"All because of Ruben?"
"Yes," Kaspar sighed.
"Damn it," Joshua muttered--louder than he meant to. Dodge gave the rookie a light but admonishing shove. Bernadette sent her son a disapproving look.
"Other than that, how bad is it?" Dodge asked. The chief mechanic's face was unreadable behind his dark sunglasses.
Kaspar said nothing at first. He gripped his hands on his hips, jaw tightening as he weight his words.
"You'll see for yourself."
Jodie shot her hand up next. "Can we leave something behind for Sonny, like a letter or a gift?"
Kate and Kaspar exchanged a brief look. "I don't think that should be a problem," Kate responded. "We'll talk to Ruben's daughter and the hospital staff to confirm. We'll keep you posted with the details."
She went on to remind everyone of the order they were to go in, repeating the text she had sent out earlier verbatim.
"Anyone else?"
When they all shook their heads, Kaspar caught the shift in everyone's expression, but said nothing--the silence spoke enough.
"Alright, then let us go."
Once inside, each of them was processed at the nurse's station, verified, and handed back their passports and lanyards. The plastic cards each showed their photo, name, visitation date, and the two rooms they'd be allowed to enter. The stark red color contrasted vividly against the muted tones they wore--marking them like scarlet letters. It was a visible reminder of why they were here, which didn't make processing what they were about to see any easier.
They shifted nervously, dispersing into small groups as they waited for each other to finish. Joshua had elected to sit with his mom beside him, fiddling with the temples of his sunglasses.
"If you keep doing that, they will break," he heard his mom say. He sighed through his nose, stopping. Joshua secured the sunglasses on the collar of his undershirt. His fingers found their way to the hem of his Tommy Hilfiger vest, the fabric familiar beneath his thumb. He wasn't sure why, but the texture steadied him. He glanced around the room, taking note of everyone's position.
Standing a little farther away, Dodge, Jodie, and Luca were deep in quiet conversation. Kate was speaking to the nurse behind the desk with Kaspar at her side. Rico was in the corner, speaking quietly into his phone. His sights finally landed on Hugh, who was leaning against the wall, hands in pockets. He had a faraway expression, similar to Joshua's own.
He watched as Kate slipped on her lanyard, then felt her phone vibrate. Her eyes widened. Her thumbs flew across the screen, then leaned to whisper something to Kaspar. Whatever it was, it was important.
A nurse came to greet them, all professional, the lower half of his face hidden behind a medical face mask.
"Good afternoon everyone. My name is Eric and I am the charge nurse for today's shift. I will accompany each pair to Room 107 to ensure the safety of the patient and of the visitors as well." He went on to reiterate Kaspar's hygiene protocol and the strict timing of their visits. They normally didn't allow such large groups for highly critical patients, but given who the patient was and Joshua guessed to wager, Ruben's insistence, they made the accommodation.
When everyone confirmed they had no further questions for him, he motioned to Kaspar, who signaled the first person on the list to follow. Jodie broke away from the group, handing her rucksack to Luca. She trailed behind Eric and Kaspar like the devil was chasing her.
A moment later, the three disappeared behind a heavy set of double doors.
No one spoke as their footsteps faded--the sound swallowed by the hum of fluorescent lights.
Looping the face mask on, Jodie wasn't exactly sure what to expect. She'd worn masks before--jokes, smiles, bravado--but this one was different. She was nervous, frightened of what was waiting for her on the other side. But even more than that, she was more terrified that it would be the last time she would see Sonny. The Brit had tried to hide her fear behind a mask of cheerfulness, taking every opportunity to look after everyone else. It was easier to do that than to face the dread that coiled inside her. It brought back painful memories she chose not to linger on, because they were too painful to begin with.
Jodie had been born a few years after her older brother Ash, and was twins with her younger brother, Nichol. Their parents had died when she was just ten years old in a burglary gone wrong, leaving her and her brothers to fend for themselves. They didn't have much money, but they made do with what they had. They worked together as a team to survive. She and Nichol had shared a passion for cars, and when her eldest brother had turned eighteen, he had enlisted in the British Armed Forces in hopes of providing them with the proper healthcare and career opportunities to fund their desires in mechanics. He went off on tours a few years at a time, sending funds back to Jodie and Nichol. When she and her twin brother became adults, Nichol had decided to follow in Ash's footsteps. Jodie went on to pursue her engineering degree, earning a scholarship at Cambridge. She had no idea where her studies would take her, but her quick reactions and book smarts led her to Silverstone, and a chance encounter with a young Formula 3 driver named Luca Cortez. The pair became fast friends, and after watching the thrill of the Formula races, Jodie decided this is where she wanted to be.
Before long, she was working her way up to a pit crew in F2, despite the challenges she faced as a young woman swimming in a sea of men with egos bigger than themselves. She kept to herself and worked hard, just like her brothers did, and set her sights on her ultimate goal: Formula One.
They made their way through the open bay area first. The smell of antiseptic was strong, enough to make her nose sting. She wasn't exactly paying attention to the details of her surroundings, settling to just follow.
Ash and Nichol had supported her along the way when they made phone calls back home. They met on occasion, sometimes on holidays when their schedules aligned. When December 2021 rolled around the corner, Jodie was excited to share with her brothers that she had been picked up by a new up and coming Formula One team--APXGP. The goal had finally come to fruition, and she couldn't wait to see the proud faces of the two people who were with her at every step of the way.
Christmas time had rolled around, and she didn't hear anything from Ash or Nichol. Jodie began to worry, wondering if their flights were delayed or if they were still stuck in their stationed posts. She still remembered the knock that came from the door, and how fast she answered it in a heartbeat. How her smile slipped from her face at the sight of two officers in uniform standing at attention, military berets held against their chests.
Turning at the corner, she spotted a little Christmas tree nestled on the counter of another nurse workstation. Her breath hitched. The corner of her eyes began to sting.
Her brothers had been killed in action. Their remains, or what was left of them, had been brought back home to be buried.
Jodie vividly recalled the bottomless pit of loss as she cried herself to sleep every night following up to the funeral and then some after. Kaspar had been sympathetic with her when she broke the news, questioning her motive when she asked to get back to work only after taking a few days off. She insisted that she was fine, that the grief wouldn't interfere with her work. And so Jodie threw herself into perfecting her craft under the guidance of Dodge Dowda, the team's new chief mechanic. She'd work, go home, come back to work, travel, sleep, work, fly back home. It was rinse and repeat. The routine grounded her at first, away from the painful thoughts that surfaced from time to time. It didn't affect her performance, but when it did as the season went on, it had affected everyone else on the team.
She beat herself up every time the mistake was hers. It was the worst feeling in the world, despite the reassurances from Dodge and her other crew mates.
Kate had pulled her aside one time, and suggested she go see a therapist. The sessions afterwards, once she bit the bullet, did help, and the pain that lingered wasn't as overwhelming as before.
Things at work started to get better. She was making less mistakes. They struggled with the car, but they were all trying their best. That had to count for something, right?
She pushed herself to perfect her craft. The faint threat of losing her position at APX looming underneath the surface. For herself and for all of them. Rumors spread that Ruben was clutching at straws as everything went wrong with the car.
That fear settled back home in her chest, in the depths of her heart. It was a subtle reminder of how everything could disappear without a moment's notice.
And then Sonny joined them, and everything changed.
Just up ahead, a door labeled Room 107 loomed. Jodie swallowed the lump in her throat, releasing a shaky breath through the fabric of her mask.
Everyone on the team knew that her and Sonny were close. She didn't deny it. They were besties after all, something she proclaimed on more than one occasion. He reminded her of her brothers, combined into one. Witty, passionate, and hard working. Maybe that's why she gravitated towards him--not because she needed saving, but because he made her remember what it felt like to have them again.
Despite the asshole façade most people saw, Sonny was a really kind person who gave it straight to your face. Because he cared. He wouldn't say it if it didn't matter. Most people looked over that part of Sonny, but it was the truth. It was authentic and honest, something most people were afraid to confront because they thought they knew better.
Unlike Joshua, Sonny didn't fault her for her mistake at Silverstone. He even remembered her name after hearing it only once. It made her feel seen. And when she asked him to not help her, he easily agreed, like he understood. Because he probably did, and didn't need to say it for it to be felt.
He told her in his own eloquent way during one of their lunch dates together that mistakes happen and that's where you learn, if you choose to learn.
It inspired her to become better. To not give up. To keep fighting.
Sonny told her that she was the glue that held the pit team together. She didn't understand what he meant when he first pointed it out in Suzuka, but she observed and took note. And sure enough, he was right.
When she poured that energy out, everyone else followed. He called it her superpower.
'Now go out there and own it.'
Jodie had watched with pride as the mindset of her team changed. The fighting spirit that had slowly left them came back with a vengeance--in the motorhome, and on the track.
She hadn't admitted it to Sonny yet, but he had brought something back in her that she thought had died with her brothers. The pain in her heart ached less, filled with a sense of hope and the desire to keep fighting, to keep going, despite the odds.
It made her happy to reclaim that part of herself again.
Now, Jodie hung on desperately to that part of herself, because she knew she needed her to be that. Just her. Nothing more, nothing less.
Because as everything was starting to crumble again, she needed to hold everyone together. At least, until the last race was complete. Whatever the outcome was to be, their fate would be sealed.
She took a step forward, then another. Glancing behind her, Kaspar gave her a nod, encouraged her forward. Once she was close enough to the glass, she finally peered inside.
Her pulse thudded in her ears, louder than the monitors.
The hallway fell away. Only the steady hiss of machines remained. And there on the bed--motionless beneath a web of wires and tubing--lay her bestie, Sonny Hayes.
Notes:
If anyone's interested, Jodie's brothers were pulled from Code Geass: Rozé of the Recapture.
Chapter Text
The waiting area buzzed with a low hum of conversation as they waited for Jodie’s return. Other visitors had come and gone, but the APX team stayed huddled in the same corner they’d occupied hours earlier. This time, instead of playing cards spread across its surface, the table was covered with their personal belongings.
Joshua got up to stretch his legs and ambled over to Hugh, Rico, and Luca. The trio were discussing the potential difficulties of the Yas Marina Circuit, specifically at Turn 7--a turn that they struggled with, even after the modifications were made in 2021. They welcomed him into the conversation—and for once, Joshua and Luca didn’t bicker. It was a nice change of focus. They still had a race to win in a week. The two drivers ended up recounting their experience with the circuit before and after the upgrade to the track when they both raced in Formula Two.
Back at the table, Dodge and Bernadette conversed about how they both got into the world of racing. Nearby, Kate sat scrolling through her phone, her thumbs moving faster than her thoughts.
Every time the double doors opened, heads turned, hoping it was their blonde teammate.
Finally, when she did come through, they knew something was wrong.
Jodie was ghost-pale, her eyes rimmed in red. She sank into the empty chair beside Kate, let out one shaky breath, and crumpled—face buried in her hands as a sob tore loose. Luca was beside her in an instant, pulling her into his arms. Kate rubbed gentle circles on her back, exchanging a look with Kaspar—who seemed to have aged another decade.
He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.
This was going to be a long afternoon.
After Dodge left with Kaspar, the others lingered, unsure what to do with themselves. Their hearts broke at the sound of Jodie’s wails—a raw, aching noise that filled the quiet room. Luca murmured quietly into her ear, holding her as if he could shield her from what she’d just seen.
He mouthed to Kate, asking if he could go later. Kate nodded, confirming that she'd switch with him.
Jodie's sobs had subsided into hiccups when Dodge returned. His expression was troubled. Kate rose and quietly informed Kaspar about the change. He just grunted and jerked his head toward the doors. Without missing a beat, Kate disappeared behind the double doors.
The sight before her—especially Sonny’s still form—felt unnatural. It went against everything that made him Sonny Hayes. What lay on the bed was a hollow replica of the man who’d been APXGP’s “Hail Mary”. Kate tasted bile in her mouth and it took everything she had not to throw up and embarrass herself.
Eric had explained the delicate balance keeping him alive. Sonny existed now only because of the technology surrounding him—and if even one device failed, he’d be gone in an instant.
Just like the car. If one component was even out of line, it was a dead race.
The comparison sickened her, but it fit too neatly—a mirror she couldn’t look away from. One that painted a very clear picture.
Sonny Hayes had survived by the skin of his teeth. Now his body—cut open, prodded, and sewn back together—had to fight its own way back to the land of the living. The surgeon’s report from earlier said he was stable. His heart and lungs showed no signs of failure—but it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. Only time would tell.
By the time twenty-four-hour mark passed, they’d already be overseas—thousands of miles away. News of his fate would come through a text or a phone call. Neither sat well with her.
She hated leaving him, and she knew the others did too. But thanks to Ruben, they still had a job to do—and if Kate knew Sonny, he’d tell them to finish the race. She clenched her fists, silently grateful the hospital limited them to window visits. God only knew how they’d react inside that room.
On her way back—finally free of her protective gear—she asked Kaspar if she should check on Ruben. According to Bianca’s latest text, her father had finally woken up.
“Let’s keep it contained for now,” he said. “I’d rather have you here as backup.”
“Right,” she said softly. “Of course.”
Kaspar held the door open as they stepped back into the waiting area.
Surveying the room, she felt a flicker of relief at the sight of Jodie resting against Luca’s shoulder—his arms still around her, looser now but protective all the same. Hugh sat nearby on her opposite side. Dodge, Rico, Joshua, and Bernadette sat against the wall, greeting them with sullen faces.
Bernadette stood up, placing a hand on her son's shoulder before trading places with Kate.
The next hour and a half felt like an eternity. They went in one by one, each returning a little quieter, a little older. By the time Luca emerged last, the sun had already set, leaving the team bathed in harsh fluorescent light. The air in the waiting room was heavy with things no one wanted to say. Someone muttered about getting coffee; someone else only nodded.
Dinner had been on the itinerary before the flight, and they still had Ruben to visit. Kate and Kaspar decided the team needed a break and suggested a quick snack run to the nearby convenience stores. When they told the others, no one had the appetite to eat. They were due for dinner afterward anyway—but no one had the energy to argue. One by one, they filed out through the automatic doors and stepped into the Las Vegas night, hearts heavy.
Ruben would have to wait.
Chapter 20
Summary:
Hugh and Joshua take a breather to reflect.
Notes:
We're 20% of the way there! Whoo!!
To everyone who has supported this story, for the kudos, comments, subscriptions, and hits—I thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🫶
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"You good?"
Joshua didn't say anything. He just stared ahead, focusing on everything and nothing at the same time. Beside him, Hugh shifted. He observed the driver, then the palm tree Joshua was staring at.
"Uh, Joshua?" he tried again, waving his hand near the younger man's face. He winced at how hoarse his throat sounded.
"Huh?"
That got the driver out of his trance. When Joshua finally lifted his face to meet Hugh, the engineer's breath was taken away at Joshua's glassy eyes. He had never seen Joshua cry, or tear up in the time he'd known the young man. The sight didn't fit with the brash, arrogant, loud-mouthed rookie driver that was Joshua Pearce.
This version of him was vulnerable, penetrable. Very human. It was startling and humbling to know this part of Joshua Pearce existed too.
"I know none of us are alright. But how are you holding up, mate?"
He sat down on the curved concrete bench beside him, his hands tucked inside his jacket pockets. Hugh shivered, unsure if the chill came from the cold concrete or Nevada's nighttime desert weather. Besides Hugh and Joshua, the garden area in front of UMCSN's entrance was barren.
The others had left to hit the local Smith's to gather their dinner items. They all agreed that since they still had Ruben left to visit and they had to catch a flight right after, it would be best to get their food now and eat it on the plane later. Kaspar half joked that fainting from both emotional distress and hunger was forbidden at this point.
Hugh had asked to stay behind. And surprisingly, Joshua, who was halfway up the shuttle's steps, decided to do the same. Kate shot them both a questioning look, and Hugh didn't miss the way Joshua's mother exchanged a concerned look with the team principal. No one said anything, and left.
That had been ten minutes ago. Hugh briefly glanced at his watch. They'd be due back in the next twenty.
The two sat in silence for several minutes, sharing the same heavy air. There was a tenseness to it, but it was mainly filled with grief. Grief for a man who’d turned their worlds upside down — and then some. Who gave the team their hope back, despite the pushbacks. And now he was about to slip out of their hands, hanging on by a thread. And death loomed over their heads again. Except this time, it would be more permanent. There would be no going back this time.
As if reading Hugh's thoughts, Joshua piped up. His voice was raw.
"I thought I was different than Sonny. Younger, stronger, more up-to-date. He was the 'never was', and I was the 'here and now'. But I'm starting to realize that we have a lot more in common than I originally wanted to admit."
Hugh didn't say anything. He just turned and listened.
"I thought I could run away from the pain of losing my dad when I was a kid, y'know? Racing felt like an escape. It was the perfect escape, actually. Focus on winning, at being the best. That's what my dad told me growing up. To keep my head down and drive."
"He seemed like a wise man," Hugh commented.
Joshua chuckled. He wiped the edge of his eye with the edge of his sweater. "Yeah, he was. I just didn't listen all the way."
He shifted so his upper body was at a folded angle. His elbows rested on his thighs. With one hand, he wiped the bottom half of his face with his hands.
"I told Kate that money, fame, and free clothes were the reason why I raced. It was a stupid answer. So sodding dumb."
Hugh shrugged. "Well, you're not alone. I'm sure the other drivers also feel the same."
Joshua huffed. "Yeah, when they started out. But like, look at Verstappen, Hamilton, even Russell. That wasn't their goal. Their goal was always winning, to be the best. All the other stuff--the money, the fame, and the free clothes--those came after. And that's what I've been chasing the whole time. The wrong bloody thing. Sonny even said it, too."
"Yeah," Hugh said. "He's a straight shooter. But he's usually right."
When Joshua craned his neck to meet Hugh and his faint smirk, he shook his head. "Yeah, man, he's a real one. And I was the idiot for thinking I was, too."
"Ah, I wouldn't sell yourself that short, Josh. You're still young and learning. You've got tons of potential."
Joshua visibly deflated at Hugh's attempt to encourage him. "Yeah, and I've wasted it on what didn't matter," he stated flatly.
"Maybe. But what you just said—that’s huge.” He turned fully to face him. “The Joshua I knew would've called that a load of bollocks. Reckon he’d probably flip off whoever said it, too."
Joshua hunched in on himself, shoulders folding. Hearing it laid out like that made him feel childish.
"But that's not the Joshua sitting right next to me now. So I'd call that a win in my book." He offered a small smile and patted him on the back.
"How do you guys tolerate me?" Joshua asked quietly, ashamed. "I was an asshole to everyone on the team."
Hugh gave a helpless shrug in return. "We just dealt with it, because we kinda didn't have a choice."
Fuck. Joshua clenched his jaw.
"But, I think we were all hoping that you'd change once you understood what Sonny was trying to do for us, and for you, of course. It took me a minute before I did too."
"And what's that?"
He felt stupid for asking, but if you didn't know, ask it, right?
"Everyone on the team matters. That's not just F1. It's everything you do in life." Hugh's voice cracked at the end. He looked up, blinking rapidly, and whispered. "I just hope he knows that too."
Joshua sat up straighter. "Come again?"
"Uh." Hugh fiddled with his fingers, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I hope Sonny knows that he matters, too."
Shaking his head, Joshua looked at Hugh like he had gone mad. "What do you mean, of course he matters! He's bloody Sonny figgin' Hayes for crying out loud! He practically runs the--"
He stopped mid sentence at Hugh's flinch and realized he was borderline yelling at the redhead. Holding both hands up, he apologized.
"Sorry, mate. I didn't mean to holler at you."
"It's alright, I know you didn't mean it."
Joshua pursed his lips. "Hugh?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. When we came here the first time."
Based on Hugh's expression, it seemed he wasn't expecting that from him. Joshua mentally flinched. "That was uncool. I'm really sorry."
Apparently today was his apology tour. First, to Sonny, and now to Hugh. God knows he probably owed everyone else at least one or more for winning the asshole of the year award. He definitely knew for sure he beat Sonny to that department, at least within the APXGP team.
"Thanks, Joshua. I really appreciate it. I do."
Joshua held out his hand, offering a small smile. An olive branch. Without a second thought, Hugh took Joshua's outstretched hand and shook it, sealing their truce.
The tension between the two men seemed to lift off their shoulders, leaving both of them a bit more relaxed and understood. It was a feeling they both welcomed, after months of working together as a broken team.
They stared at one another for a while longer. Then, Joshua commented. "I didn't realize how stunning your eyes were."
It took a long moment for Hugh to register what Joshua just said. A blush creep up his face. The cold air was suddenly a saving grace against the heat rising up Hugh's neck.
"Sorry, mate, didn't mean to hit on you there. Just stating a fact," Joshua said, holding up his hands again in mock defense.
Speechless, Hugh's gaze lingered on Joshua's lips, then quickly towards the ground below. He swallowed hard, heat rising in his neck. "Uh… thanks," he managed.
A different type of tension filled the air between them, one that both men weren't exactly quite ready to explore just yet. It was too soon to mean anything, and rushing never ended well.
Joshua peered at his watch. "They should be back here any moment, right?" he asked, deciding to change the subject.
Thankful for the topic change, Hugh nodded. "Yeah, ten or so minutes."
"Hugh, you said you hoped Sonny knew he mattered to the team. You open to elaborating on that?" Then he added. "I won't push if you don't wanna share, but if you do, I'm all ears. And promise, I'll keep it together."
The redhead contemplated Joshua's offer. He worked his jaw at the same time, feeling the heaviness in his chest return. Hugh wasn't entirely sure if telling Joshua was an inherently good idea, but he decided to follow his gut. Maybe it was all just in his head.
"I, uh, I said that because I've been chewing on what happened. I talked with Kate about it, but--" Hugh swallowed. "I don't think the crash was an accident."
Joshua stared at Hugh, studying his features carefully. "You think the crash was intentional? Like, all his other races where debris is everywhere?"
He knew what Hugh was implying, but he wanted to really confirm what the race engineer was truly saying.
Hugh shook his head. "Yes and no. Yes, the crash caused debris on the track. A safety car probably had to come out. But no, because crashing into the barrier at the speed he was flying at could have ended his life and he damn well knew that."
He felt his eyes burn saying it out loud. Every word hurt and stung because he knew Sonny feigned aloofness, but he wasn't stupid. He knew the car inside and out, knew its limits. Sonny always drove his car like it was an extension of him. It was a sight Hugh witnessed every time Hayes zoomed past the pit wall since Zandvoort. On the track, Sonny and his car became one, and it was a sight to behold.
But what had happened on the Vegas track, there was no sync. There was only discombobulation and the threat of death. Death of the car and death of the driver. Watching the medics pull Sonny's lifeless form onto the asphalt and attempt to revive him drove home that realty.
And no matter how Hugh tried to play it differently in his head, it always came back the same.
Their Sonny Hayes wouldn't have done a stupid move like that, not unless something had caused it. They all knew Sonny was upset about the aero change and the so called anonymous tip to the FIA. They all were. Joshua had been vocal about it over the radio, but Sonny hadn't. It was like he had accepted his fate, the killing of APXGP--and Hugh thought darkly--and of himself.
It seemed whatever facial expression he wore was all Joshua needed to confirm his suspicions. His stomach knotted at the potential truth of that reality. It made him sick.
Sonny Hayes was the living embodiment of a Roman god. He seemed invincible, with his quick thinking and even quicker reactions and his cunning, on-the-fly strategies. He was the one that pulled everyone together as the team's second driver. It felt like nothing could touch Sonny Hayes.
Until he saw Sonny through the glass window.
Joshua felt like he was looking at a corpse. That is what Sonny had been reduced to, surviving on modern technology to stay alive. That's what he understood from the nurse and Kaspar's calm explanations the second time around when Joshua told them that wasn't Sonny in there.
Whoever was on the bed was too still, too lifeless. Even in sleep, Sonny was in fight mode. He'd seen it during their travels, when Sonny tried to take in any ounce of sleep he could on the plane or traveling on the road. This person though, the patient who shared the same name as his team mate, was not Sonny Hayes.
The denial followed him back out into the waiting area. He needed space to think, to process. This was all becoming too much.
Thankfully there was a family restroom, which he entered immediately, locking the door behind him. Then, Joshua proceeded to enter the larger of the two stalls, locking that door too. He backed himself up until he bumped into the tiled walls and slid down to the ground. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them. A shuddering breath, then two escaped his lips first before the first sob ripped through his chest. Joshua sat on the bathroom floor, crying into his knees.
He had done the same thing ten years ago when his mother had to make the decision to end his father's life support.
It all felt too close to home. He didn't know how to truly process his feelings at that age. Therapy years later helped. But despite all the tools he had learned to use in his toolbox, this situation with Sonny made Joshua feel even more lost and confused.
His chest hurt, seizing every time the tears came out heavier. He wasn't sure how long he stayed in there, but when he returned, no one questioned him, or his red puffy eyes. His mom even left him be. He had to wonder if she also felt an echo of his father's accident and eventual passing in this too. But he didn't want to think about that either, so he went scrolling through TikTok, trying to distract his mind with something stupid and useless.
Which had described how he was feeling up until their conversation now.
Joshua fisted his hands on his lap. To think that Sonny would consider ending his own life, throwing all the hard work they put in out the window so he had an excuse to an easy out, made Joshua feel a complicated myriad of emotions. He couldn't wrap his head around the concept, or rather, he wasn't in the right mindset to do so. That hadn't been on his radar of possibilities, so he decided to try something different than his usual tactics.
"What makes you think he did it intentionally?"
He watched Hugh close his eyes shut, like he was breathing through pain. Joshua didn't like that look on Hugh. He reached forward, taking the engineer’s hand into his. When Hugh reopened them, there was an inherent sadness behind his green orbs, as if they had witnessed something they shouldn't have. It felt as if they belonged to someone much older, and more burdened.
"I was ten when I found my Uncle Benny on the couch. He OD'd on coke and booze."
Joshua froze.
"He said I was the only good thing in his life, but he kept drinking and using, chasing after the next fix like he was trying to run away from something. Pain from the past. And he didn't know how to stop. I didn't understand at that time, all the signs of addiction. When I saw it again in Sonny, and finally pieced it all together, it was already too late."
Hugh brought his free arm up to his face, wiping away the tears streaming down his face. "It's a hunch, but my gut is t-telling me that's what it is. I just hope this..." He pointed to his head, spinning his finger like a tornado. "...is all in my head. I don't want it to be true."
Joshua moved of his own accord and embraced the redhead. Hugh simply laid his head against Joshua's shoulder and silently rode out his emotions. Joshua just held him, unsure of what to do next. He figured, just giving Hugh a shoulder to cry on was at least a start. They kept their other hands interlocked the entire time.
When Hugh had calmed down enough to be coherent again, he gave Joshua a silent “thank you” and moved to collect himself.
Joshua merely nodded, unsure what else to say. For once, he didn’t feel like running away.
The sound of an approaching engine rumbled nearby.
They released their hands and stood to greet the others as they stepped off the shuttle bus.
Notes:
If you're an F1 fan, F1 The Movie Fan, or just like hot old guys who drive cars and are filthy rich or live in a van, and the amazing character ensemble that makes up APXGP, come join us in the Discord Group "APX GP". Here's a link to where you can drop in. We're a ban of misfits ourselves from all over the world, just like a real life F1 team! It's a lot of fun, promise. <3
Discord: https://discord.gg/9T8VVeZw
Chapter 21
Summary:
Ruben awakens.
Chapter Text
A few hours earlier…
Ruben groaned as he stirred. His head was pounding, and his throat felt like a desert. The bright lights above didn’t help as he tried to clear his bleary vision.
He attempted to ease himself up, but his body did not cooperate, and he flopped back down onto the bed, suddenly out of breath.
God, he felt horrible — like he’d been hit by a truck and then forced to eat sand.
Ruben blinked rapidly. The world began to refocus — even his hearing. Angling his head up, he spotted a heart monitor quietly beeping. Next to it was an IV drip with letters large enough for him to read.
HYDRATION
With his eyes, he followed the tube at the end of the bag down to his arm. That’s when he realized he had been stripped of his suit jacket and tie and was resting on a gurney.
What the hell happened?
Approaching footsteps followed by the pull of the curtains claimed Ruben’s attention.
“Papa, you’re awake!”
Ruben was immediately engulfed in Bianca’s arms. He tried to squirm out of her strong hold, but she didn’t budge.
“Hija, I can’t breathe.”
Immediately, Bianca backed up. “I’m sorry. Can I get you anything?”
He nodded. “Water, please.”
Bianca uncapped the water bottle from her bag, twisting the cap in one go. Carefully, she held it up for Ruben to take a few sips. He ended up downing half the bottle in one gulp.
“Gracias pequeña,” he breathed.
Rolling her eyes, Bianca retorted. “I’m not a little girl anymore, y’know.”
He made eye contact with his beloved daughter and offered a knowing look. “You will always be my little girl, even when you’re seventy.”
Deciding not to play further into the subject, her easy smile became strained as she gave her father a once-over.
“Do you remember anything?” she asked softly. She placed a hand on Ruben’s hand, holding it tight.
Ruben closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The headache made itself clear it wasn’t going away. He tried to remember what had occurred before he woke up here. They were in a hospital, visiting Sonny—
His eyes flew open.
“W-Where’s Sonny?” he asked, suddenly moving to sit. He winced at the sharp pain from his arm.
“Calm down, Papa. You’ll hurt yourself. Sonny is okay, he’s in the ICU, recovering.” She placed a hand on her father’s chest, gently pushing him back down. Inspecting his forearm, she tsked at the trail of blood from the dislodged IV needle.
“En serio, a veces eres como un bebé,” Bianca said, shaking his head. Sometimes her father could be such a handful when he wasn’t focused. She tried hard to be patient — but everyone had their limits.
“I will be back with a nurse. And don’t you dare move,” she threatened with her finger, “or else.”
With that, she disappeared through the curtains.
Ruben rubbed his free hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. Everything slowly came back to him—Sonny’s prone body, the awful machine filtering his blood, the tube shoved down his throat. Ruben felt his chest tighten, remembering it all. And it hurt to see his friend reduced to this helpless form, fighting to stay alive.
Then he thought to himself—was Jerez like this for Sonny?
The mere thought of a younger Sonny going through everything he was experiencing now, perhaps worse, made Ruben want to vomit. It must have been hell. And he was all alone, with no one there to be beside him, from the team or his family. Ruben wasn’t sure if Sonny had any extended family that he had put down as emergency contacts, or neighbors from back home. He didn’t recall Sonny mentioning anything family related other than the little he knew of his late parents.
If Sonny had suffered all alone like this, broken and cut off, with no one to help him…
No, it wasn’t an if, Ruben told himself. It had happened, and it has made Sonny who he was today. That look on his face at the diner—the flash of fear and resignation hidden under a persona of bravado. When Sonny reminded him in as little words as possible when he was in the world of Formula One, what had occurred.
And we all know how that ended.
Yeah, they all did. Sonny’s crash had been widespread news throughout every single corner of the motorsport world. No one could have believed he survived and lived to tell the tale.
Worst of all, knowing this, none of them tried to help him.
Assumingly, if anyone did, he would have to track them down and personally thank them for giving a damn about his friend. They were already miles better than Ruben, he thought sadly.
Ruben wasn’t there for Sonny when he needed someone most—couldn’t, but that was still a choice he made—and if he could go back in time to change things, he would. He would have given up racing for Lotus to be beside Sonny — maybe they would have become traveling mechanics, roaming the world to their hearts’ content, or built a business together.
God only knows where that life would have led them.
But what’s done is done. It doesn’t mean the story has to repeat itself again.
No, it would not. Ruben clenched his hands into fists.
He thought about the team, about every single person who he entrusted and who gave him that same level of trust back. Ruben thought about how he was about to possibly lose everything—his friend, his team, Cervantes Capitol.
Everything had become a shit show so fast so quick. He bit his lip, remembering the argument with his ex-wife.
She had accused him of loving racing more than her, that he promised to never step foot back into Formula One, yet he broke their cardinal rule. Because he couldn’t pass up the chance to fulfill his lifelong dream — to own a team in the sport he’d dedicated his life to. And she couldn’t deal with him being gone again, unavailable for her, abandoning her a second time.
He had been sued for everything he had. It was a nightmare. And once she had her fill, she walked out of his life completely.
Although she left with a few choice words for Ruben.
‘I cannot watch you burn your entire life to the ground because you love cars more than connection. And when you do, I want you to remember that I was right.’
Damn it, she certainly wasn’t wrong. She had seen this fate miles away, but Ruben clung onto the possibility, to hope, to a delusional wish that stemmed from a deep desire to bring back what couldn’t be his anymore, not unless it was enticing enough. Not unless the conditions were perfect. He became obsessed, fighting with everything he had..
As he stared at the ceiling, Ruben realized the truth: he hadn’t bought APXGP just to be a team owner. He desired something much deeper, much more selfish. And he was willing to gamble hundreds of people’s lives and careers away so that he could create the perfect opportunity to lure the one person who meant anything to him all this time.
Because he couldn’t forgive himself for leaving Sonny behind all those years ago. So in his own twisted way, Ruben thought giving Sonny another opportunity at a Formula One podium was how he could apologize. Atone for his sins. And he hoped that, if he did that, Sonny would forgive him for not being there when he needed someone most.
And if Sonny could forgive him, then perhaps that was enough permission for Ruben to forgive himself.
Ruben sighed, dropping his hand back onto his stomach. Why did he have to make everything so complicated?
And what if Sonny doesn’t forgive him? Then what would he do?
Ruben hadn’t thought that far, lost in his chase towards redemption for a man he has longed for all these years. Sonny Hayes, who had flipped his world upside down the first day they met in Formula Three; who pushed him to be better at racing every time they took to the track; who was doing everything in his power to save Ruben’s team despite the dangers of racing, putting his life on the line because he was that loyal to Ruben…
Even if he wasn’t, and he only did it to get back into Formula One, Ruben decided he didn’t care any longer. He couldn’t go back in time and change the past. But what he could do now was change the future and ensure Sonny wouldn’t go through all of his alone again, a second time.
Damn it all if he ended up losing the team, Cervantes Capitol, or his business empires. Those were all ultimately replaceable, replicable. Sonny Hayes, his friend, his confidante, was not. And Ruben would do everything in his power to ensure Sonny got everything he needed, even if he ended up hating Ruben for everything.
Steeling his resolve, Ruben comes to a decision, knowing what he has to do next.
Was he willing to continue betting and losing everything for a man he was in love with, and who might not love him back?
Absolutely, Ruben was willing to bet on it. Even if it cost him everything.
Several minutes later, Bianca returned with a nurse in tow.
“Good afternoon Mr. Cervantes, my name is Nylah, I am your assigned nurse for today’s shift.” She checked the monitor, then looked at him. “How are you feeling? Any pain, nausea, or discomfort?”
Ruben shook his head as the nurse slipped on her gloves. “Just a headache and a dry throat. Oh, and this.” He held his arm up as evidence.
“Understood. The headache most likely is from dehydration. The IV drip will provide you with electrolytes, but drinking plenty of water is still a must. Here — hold your arm out for me like this.”
Nylah made quick work of cleaning the area before reinserting the needle back into place, securing it with a transparent film dressing.
“And there you are, good as new. Now, do you recall what occurred to you earlier today?”
“I do,” Ruben admitted. “I remember walking into the room. I was with Kaspar and another nurse. Eric, I think.”
“That is correct. Do you remember why you had collapsed?” she questioned.
“Yes. I was overwhelmed. It was a lot to take in.”
Bianca crossed her arms tighter, fingers pressing into her forearms as she listened, the motion betraying the tension she tried to hide.
Nylah ran through a few more questions; Ruben answered as best he could. Bianca typed on her phone for a moment. When the nurse stepped away, the two of them were alone again.
They didn’t say anything to one another, letting the silence speak for them instead. A speck of red and yellow caught the corner of his eye. He turned his head, intrigued. His gaze landed on the magazine resting on top of his folded suit jacket and two duffle bags.
“You brought it,” he said softly.
Bianca smiled, still scrolling on her phone. “Of course. You barely go anywhere without that magazine.”
Just seeing it there brought him a sense of comfort — and, at the same time, dread. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, observing how his Burberry and Sonny’s Tico sat neatly together, like old friends.
Like them.
Ruben had been surprised when he saw Sonny carrying that leather bag. Green had always been Sonny’s favorite color, he recalled from their youth. It contrasted with Ruben’s taste for black, yet they complemented each other nicely.
He had given it to Sonny as a Christmas gift years ago. Travel had made it impossible to visit the United States that year, so he mailed the gift instead. He hadn’t been sure it would reach him — Sonny never confirmed — but he was glad it had.
Whether Sonny knew it was Ruben who sent the duffle, he hadn’t asked, nor did he care at this point. He was simply glad Sonny had it and found use for it. It was something Sonny could rely on — another apology from Ruben in the form of practicality and fashion.
“Mhm, very true.” He studied the ceiling, counting the tiny dots on the tiles. “I’m sorry for causing this trouble.”
Bianca looked up from her phone. “Why are you apologizing? You reacted normally to an abnormal situation. Although you could have taken better care of yourself, I’m not going to argue about that right now.”
“Have the others seen Sonny yet?” he asked.
“Yes, they arrived a little while ago. They’re going to take fifteen minute rotations with Kaspar to see him. Then they’re going to come see you.”
“I see,” Ruben replied. “Bianca, can I trust you?”
“Of course you can, Papa,” she answered, measured. “Why do you ask such a question?”
“You know why.”
Bianca clicked her phone off, stowing it in her blazer pocket. “The forged report.”
“Precisely. Someone from inside leaked our information. I will not have this.”
“Neither will I. I swear to you, I did not leak anything, nor will I ever. I’d rather cut off my hands than do that.”
“Save that for the one who betrayed us,” Ruben countered.
Bianca’s voice hardened. “Oh, that’s not all I will do. Trust me. I already have Javier and Matilda working on this."
“What will you do about Abu Dhabi?”
Ruben sighed, contemplating his answer. Bianca had a hunch on what her father’s answer might be, but she wanted to hear it from him.
“I’m staying with your tío. I will not abandon him — not again,” he said. Bianca heard the conviction in his voice; no one would change his mind.
“I’m glad you are, too. Sonny needs this. He needs you.” She chose her next words carefully. “I know you trust Kaspar, but do you want me to fill in for you?”
Ruben smiled. His daughter always thought several steps ahead. “Kaspar’s the Team Principal — this is his job, not yours. I need you somewhere more important.”
“Of course, Papa. What do you need me to do?”
Chapter Text
The energy in the room was somber, stifled by a strange mix of relief and grief. The scene could have passed for a funeral service. Besides Bianca and Bernadette, everyone was dressed in black, their faces gaunt with exhaustion and worry. It might as well have been Ruben’s funeral—him lying there in the center, surrounded by his daughter and the work family he’d built over the years.
There was, of course, one person missing from the picture.
A particular blond man who should have been standing right beside them.
Rico seemed to have the same thought. He tried to lighten the mood with a crack about this being ‘a practice run for one of us someday’.
The resulting glares promptly shut him up.
Kate stepped closer to the bed, cutting through the heavy air. She scanned her boss from head to toe—at least, the parts not covered by blankets. His hands rested limply at his sides. Bianca held one of them between both of hers.
“You’ve done a number on yourself, haven’t ya, Ruben?”
One corner of Kate’s mouth lifted in a tired, wry smirk. Her expression said clearly: you absolute idiot.
Beside her, Kaspar grunted in agreement.
Ruben half laughed, half sighed. His breath shuddered and he felt warmth fill his eyes. “It seems I have,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “How are you all holding up?”
The way they all stiffened at the question told Ruben everything he needed to know. But he didn’t push. He simply let the silence settle, giving them space to gather their thoughts. It couldn’t have been easy for them, he knew—his presence in a hospital bed was evidence enough of that.
“I think I can speak for everyone here—” Kate began, sweeping her gaze around the room. Every exhausted face watched her, waiting.
“—that today has been a tough one. We’re just glad—”
She stopped. The breath she dragged in quivered on the way out. It took everything in her to lift her eyes to Ruben’s.
“—that he’s alive.”
A soft chorus of “yeah” and “same” passed through the room. Heads nodded. Shoulders dropped. Some eyes burned.
Ruben sank deeper into his pillow, something tight in him loosening just a fraction. He gave Kate a small nod, then another to Kaspar—barely there, but packed with meaning.
They understood.
They all did.
“Good,” he breathed. “I wanted to thank you all for coming today—for Sonny. He may not admit it…at first, or ever…but this will mean the world to him. I know it does to me.”
He opened his mouth again, hesitated, choosing his words with care.
“It isn’t my story to tell, but Sonny carries a weight on his shoulders—one that’s led him to this moment. So I hope, and I pray, that when he wakes up…”
A single tear slipped down his cheek.
“…he knows we’re here for him. No matter what happens.”
“Damn right, boss,” Joshua said, earnest for once. He cracked his knuckles together. “We’re gonna strap that old geezer down and tattoo it into his brain so he doesn’t forget.”
A few snorts sounded around the room.
“Hell yeah,” Jodie chimed in. “He’s stuck with us. Like gorilla glue.”
“Add a whip, collar, and leash while you’re at it,” Bianca said dryly. “Just in case he tries to run off again.”
A beat of stunned silence—then Hugh blinked.
“Okay, this is getting mildly violent,” he deadpanned.
Laughter erupted. It was warm and exhausted, yet cathartic. Rico reached over and gave Hugh a friendly shove, shaking his head.
“And who’s doing the whipping?” Luca asked. “‘Cause it sure as hell isn’t gonna be me.”
A collective silence fell over the room. Slowly, every pair of eyes shifted toward Ruben.
He lifted his hand in mock surrender, rolling his own.
“Settle down, children. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Of course, everyone knew exactly who that bridge-builder would be.
Ruben was the only person Sonny truly ever listened to—besides Kate, and occasionally Kaspar.
“Speaking of bridge,” Ruben murmured, eyes cutting toward Bianca. She gave a small nod, steadying him.
“Bianca will be joining you all at the next race in my place,” he continued. “I will not be attending.”
A ripple moved through the room. The announcement shouldn’t have been a surprise, and yet it was.
Ruben not being in a garage—or prowling the Paddock Club, hyping the crew, charming investors, entertaining the VIPs—felt wrong on a cellular level. He’d made it his mission to never miss a race. As for Bianca…
“You’re staying here with Sonny then?” Dodge asked, arms folded tight.
“Yes,” Ruben said.
Kate, Kaspar, and Dodge exchanged weighted looks. No one spoke.
“Understood,” Kaspar finally sighed. “We will do whatever it takes to win. And if not…then we tried our best.”
His voice deflated the room. The reality hanging over them—the very real possibility of losing everything in seven days—sank deeper into their chests.
If they didn’t win the final race…
If one of their cars didn’t take P1…
Every person in this room would lose their job.
Kaspar most of all.
They teased him for being prideful, stubborn, sometimes insufferable—but he’d been the backbone of this team since day one. He’d held them together, hired every one of them (except Kate and Joshua), and shared Ruben’s dream of creating a team that mirrored the world—where what mattered was skill, not gender, nationality, religion, or identity.
For Kaspar, APXGP was a miracle. A once-in-a-lifetime chance that pulled him out of retirement after four decades in the sport. Losing it now would break him.
And then there was Sonny Hayes.
The man who had fine tuned them from a scattered crew into a real team, who had given them a fighting chance in the last eight races.
Instead of lining up on the grid in Abu Dhabi, battling for position, Sonny would remain here—in a hospital bed in Las Vegas—fighting for his life.
“You will be missed,” Bernadette said softly. She’d attended nearly every race since Joshua joined the team, and in all that time, Ruben had always been there too.
Hugh shifted his weight, anxiety tightening his shoulders.
“Ruben… can we ask you something?”
“Of course,” Ruben answered.
Hugh took a breath. “If… if we don’t win Abu Dhabi, and the team ends up being sold…could you put something in the new contracts? Something that says the new owners can’t use the name APXGP?”
Ruben blinked. “You want them to…change it?”
Hugh nodded, eyes trained on the floor. “Yeah. Because APXGP is us. This—” he gestured around the room “—this family you and Kaspar and Sonny built…that name belongs to everyone here. If we’re getting replaced, then the next people shouldn’t get to use it.”
Ruben’s expression softened, stunned into silence.
Kate stepped in, voice firm and warm.
“We didn’t build this team from nothing just for someone else to slap the same name on a brand-new lineup. APXGP is ours. They can make their own identity.”
She looked around at the team. “Right?”
A wave of agreement swept through the room—soft, emotional, and unanimous.
Ruben felt a squeeze on his left hand. He met Bianca’s gaze—steady, proud.
She didn’t need words.
She was proud of what he had built…and of the people he had built it with.
“Bianca,” Kate said gently. “Kaspar, Lisbeth, and I will be there if you need anything at all.”
“Thank you, Kate. I appreciate that.” Bianca straightened, eyes sweeping over the team. “And like my father said…thank you all for being here. For Sonny, and for Ruben.”
She placed her hand between Ruben’s shoulder blades, giving a firm, affectionate pat.
“I’m not a racer like Ruben,” she said with a small smile, “but I know everything else. So if any of you need anything from me—just ask. We are going to Abu Dhabi, and we are going to kick ass.”
“P1, baby!” Joshua blurted loudly.
“Shh! We’re still in the hospital,” Bernadette hissed, swatting at him.
Luca snorted. “You can have P2, Pearce. P1 is mine.”
That earned him a scoff. “You haven’t even finished in the top ten. What makes you think you can do any better than P11?”
That had been Luca’s highest score in Mexico City.
“Ever seen a miracle?”
“Hope is not a strategy, remember?” Joshua shot back.
Half the team groaned. Ruben smiled.
“We’re counting on you both,” Ruben told his drivers, voice thick but steady. “All of you. Bring home our win.”
Once the team left, Bianca wasted no time turning back to her father, hands planted on her hips and eyes sharp with purpose.
“If anything happens, you call me.”
Ruben huffed a quiet breath through his nose—fond rather than dismissive—but he saw the steel in her gaze, and his own softened.
“I will, mija.”
“I’ll keep my phone on me at all times. And Lina will be with me. If you can’t reach me, call her and she’ll get me immediately.”
“Yes, yes, I will do that.” He gestured weakly toward the curtain. “Now go. Don’t keep the team waiting.”
But she didn’t move. Her stare narrowed to a pin.
“Papa. I’m serious.”
“And I am serious too, Bianca,” he matched, gentle but firm. “I will contact you every way possible with any updates—on myself or on Sonny.”
A beat.
“You too, yes?”
Only then did the tension in her shoulders finally ease. She leaned down and kissed his temple, her voice softening into something warm and small—though laced with something darker, something fierce.
“I will. Te amo, Papa.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“Yo también te amo, pequeña.”
The next several hours were a blur.
The shuttle bus pulled up to Harry Reid International just before eight. After gathering their luggage, Jodie and Luca lingered near the curb, exchanging quiet reassurances. Luca’s worry was written all over his face; Jodie kept insisting she was fine.
One by one, the team shared hugs before splitting off toward their separate flights. Joshua’s hug with Hugh lasted a second longer than usual. Hugh whispered, “See you soon,” before turning away to climb the stairs to the jet.
Joshua swallowed. He still hadn’t told Hugh about the press conference—only that he and Luca were returning to the factory for simulator work. The guilt pricked at him as he watched the first plane taxi down the runway, carrying the engineers and pit crew toward Abu Dhabi.
Their own plane headed for London.
Joshua texted Cashman to let him know they were en route. Cash had flown in that morning and promised to meet them at the factory. Earlier, when Joshua called him from The Encore, Cash had cleared his entire afternoon so Joshua would have uninterrupted sim time before the conference. The confirmation eased at least one knot in Joshua’s chest.
Media days always drained him — endless cameras, endless questions. He’d never admit it out loud, but some part of him was jealous of Sonny, who’d managed to dodge three-quarters of them and still get praised for his charisma.
As Kaspar promised, the seats reclined flat. Within minutes, most of the group was asleep. Kate disappeared into the luxury bathroom at the back of the plane with a plastic container to soak her feet. She later emerged wearing the heated mask Bernadette bought her. Judging by her soft snores, she was gone in seconds.
Joshua remained awake.
He sat alone at the meeting table, his Notes app open, typing and retyping possible talking points for the press. He added contingency answers too—the uncomfortable questions he knew the media would pounce on—and sent them to Lisbeth for review. She replied with a few adjustments and a steady reassurance:
You’re ready. Be truthful and play it plainly. They’ll listen.
Joshua exhaled, but the weight in his chest didn’t budge.
He remained restless for most of the flight, only managing an hour or two of light sleep before touchdown.
The drive back to Woking wound his nerves even tighter. Luckily, they’d split into two cars—Joshua, Kaspar, and Bianca in one; Kate, Luca, and Bernadette in the other. The thirty-minute ride gave the three of them room to breathe and talk through his anxieties. Bianca even offered to role-play as a journalist, firing off mock questions with enough bite to make Kaspar raise a brow.
Joshua stumbled through the first few answers, but gradually found his footing. By the time their car rolled up to the factory entrance, he felt—if not calm—at least steady.
It was a shame Bianca wouldn’t be up at the podium with them; she could’ve handled half the reporters herself. Still, their rehearsal made him feel more prepared than he expected.
He had to hand it to her: Bianca knew her stuff. And she was one hell of an actor.
Lisbeth and Cash greeted them the moment they stepped into the lobby. Hospitality staff swept in to take their luggage, and soon enough, the group fractured into smaller clusters. Bianca and Kaspar fell into step beside Lisbeth, their hushed voices carrying the unmistakable weight of business. Joshua caught something about Sonny in their tone before Kate tapped his arm and steered him away.
Bernadette kissed his cheek, murmured a reminder to eat, then wandered off with Cash toward hospitality. Luca clapped him on the shoulder and walked with him toward the sim room. They dropped him off with a brief, supportive nod before disappearing down the hall.
Pippa was waiting inside, along with the race support team.
“How is he?” she asked, pulling him into a quick hug.
Joshua crossed his arms, eyes glued to the floor for a beat before he mustered the courage to meet her gaze.
“He made it through surgery,” he said steadily, “but he’s in an induced coma. Doctors think he’ll make a full recovery, but it’s…too early to know for sure. We’re waiting for more updates.”
“I see.”
A flicker of emotion crossed her face—fear, relief, something heavier—then it vanished beneath the composed professionalism she always wore.
“So,” Pippa said gently, “what are we working on today, Josh?”
Joshua straightened, jaw tightening with resolve.
“Load up Monza,” he said. “Exactly how it happened.”
‘Joshua, Sonny says wait for the straight. The straight into Turn One.’
The words echoed in Joshua’s ears like a mantra—and a warning.
This time, he didn’t fight it. He didn’t let pride get in the way. He followed Rico’s relayed message from Sonny exactly as it was given.
He tucked in behind Verstappen, resisting every instinct screaming at him to divebomb ahead. He held position through the chicane. And then—
Turn One.
Joshua slammed the pedal, surged past Verstappen, and tore across the checkered line.
P1.
He froze inside the simulator, staring at the digital finish banner as if it hadn’t happened.
He ran it again.
Same instructions. Same patience. Same timing.
Another P1.
His hands trembled.
Just to prove to himself it wasn’t luck, he tried a third run—his way, his original Monza attempt.
He crashed into the barrier.
A fourth run—modified improvisation.
He went off the racing line and straight into the runoff.
Joshua’s stomach twisted. His throat tightened around a lump he couldn’t swallow down.
Sonny had been right.
All along.
And Joshua had nearly killed himself—and almost destroyed the team—because he refused to listen.
He climbed out of the simulator on unsteady legs and managed to give Pippa a grateful fist bump. She didn’t say anything, just squeezed his arm once in quiet solidarity.
He checked his watch: 7:32 PM.
Enough time to grab something quick before the press conference.
Joshua inhaled deeply…and exhaled just as shakily.
Time to face what he’d run from.
Chapter 23
Summary:
Joshua has his press conference. Things get heated.
Chapter Text
Apparently Joshua wasn’t the only person who needed a snack break before the press conference. Lisbeth was sitting at one of the cafeteria tables, eating a sandwich with one hand and scrolling through her phone with the other.
“Good evening, Joshua,” she said without looking up.
“Good evening,” he replied, rummaging through the refrigerator for something edible.
They sat in relative silence, opposite ends of the long table. Joshua didn’t bother making small talk. His nerves were too loud, and Lisbeth looked laser-focused on whatever she was reading. He watched her thumb glide across the privacy screen with practiced precision while the other hand alternated between her sandwich and her water bottle.
He already struggled typing properly with two thumbs — forget one.
Lisbeth finished first, disposing of her trash before washing her hands. Joshua assumed she’d leave, but instead, she crossed the room and sat directly across from him.
“Can we chat for a moment?” she asked.
His stomach flipped, but he nodded.
She did most of the talking. Joshua listened, trying not to flinch when she brought up the death threats — the ones people had sent him and the team the day APEX GP announced him as their rookie driver. He had Cash, Lisbeth, and Ruben to thank for shielding him from most of it, but hearing it said aloud still scraped something raw inside him.
After fifteen minutes, an assistant poked her head in to summon Lisbeth, and she rose with a parting nod.
Joshua sat alone in the vast break room meant for hundreds of APX personnel. The silence that followed felt heavy, but not unwelcome. He wasn’t looking forward to the chaos waiting for him beyond those doors—but in his gut, he knew this was the right thing to do.
Throwing out his rubbish, Joshua washed his hands, splashed cool water on his face, and headed toward the long corridor that led to the Auditorium. His stomach churned with nerves, but his stride was steady—determined.
With any luck, the late hour and the last-minute scheduling meant fewer reporters.
Halfway down the hall, he heard footsteps thundering behind him.
“Cos! Wait up!”
Joshua turned just in time to see Cash skid around the corner, nearly barreling into him. Joshua jerked a step back before impact.
“Cash? What—are you alright?” he asked immediately, hands half-raised to steady his cousin. They only called each other Cos when it was something serious—when one of them needed grounding, or when trouble was about to land.
“I’m—” Cash sucked in a breath, bent slightly at the waist. “I’m alright. Just—give me a sec.”
Joshua waited, pulse climbing the longer Cash avoided meeting his eyes.
Finally, Cash straightened, exhaled hard, and locked onto Joshua’s face with an expression unlike any Joshua had ever seen on him—fear, urgency, and something else he couldn’t name.
“You need to cancel the conference.”
Joshua stilled, the words hitting him square in the chest. He narrowed his eyes.
“I’m not changing my mind,” he said slowly. “I’m doing this. You even agreed when I called you earlier. Why tell me this now?”
“Common sense,” Cash shot back, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The tone alone stung—made Joshua feel foolish.
“Mate, this is career suicide if you go through with it.” Cash raked a hand through his hair, breath still uneven. “No one—forget Formula One—no motorsport team anywhere is going to want you after this. I just got off the phone with IndyCar and I am this close to lining up a seat for you. But if this conference happens? Every opportunity goes ciao and you’ll have to find another career.”
He stepped closer, grip tightening on Joshua’s shoulders.
“As your manager and your family, I’m begging you—please. Cancel the conference tonight.”
Silence stretched between them.
Joshua stared at Cash—the man who took over after his father died, who fought for his career when no one else would, who became the older brother he never had. And Cash…
Cash wasn’t wrong.
This could end everything.
With or without APXGP surviving the season, this confession could bury his future.
But that didn’t matter to Joshua. He had already made up his mind.
“Look, Cash, I appreciate you having my back and looking out for me,” Joshua said, forcing his voice steady, “but I need to do this.”
“Josh, please.” Cash’s tone cracked as he tried again. “I can’t watch you throw your whole life away like this. We worked so damn hard to get you here and you’re just gonna toss it all away for some old white man you didn’t even care about before!”
“Yeah, well—now I do!”
The shout ripped out of him before he could stop it.
Both men froze. Joshua’s breath hitched. Cash blinked hard. And for a moment, all Joshua could hear was the echo of his own voice bouncing down the hallway.
He glanced toward the Auditorium’s entrance—not far at all—praying no one inside had heard.
Cash stepped closer, palms raised in surrender.
“Look, Cos…I’m sorry about what happened to Sonny. Really. It’s awful. But you’ve gotta think like a knight, not a pawn. Every Formula One team has already signed their 2024 lineup—main drivers, reserves, everyone. IndyCar is our best shot right now, and from there we climb back up. That’s the strategy.”
Joshua stared at him, stunned.
“So you’re saying you don’t believe I can win an F1 Grand Prix?”
“What? No—god, no.” Cash shook his head so hard his glasses nearly slipped. “I do believe in you. But be real with me for a second. You’ve got a shit car, and without ‘Chuck Norris’ here waving his magic wand, there’s no way APEX GP’s making it.”
The conviction behind Cash’s words hit something raw and tender inside Joshua. His jaw tightened. His fingers curled into fists.
“You don’t know that,” he snapped back, voice trembling with conviction. “I at least have to try. But I’m not racing without telling the truth first.”
“Oh my God, what’s ‘the truth’ even gonna do for you, Joshua? This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. Sonny was the perfect scapegoat to save your career. He told your boss that himself. Why not just give the dying man what he wants?”
Cash’s face fell the second he heard his own words.
Joshua went utterly still. The anger didn’t hit first—the hurt did.
His expression darkened, followed by shadows gathering beneath his eyes.
He stepped forward, his voice shaking with restrained fury.
“Don’t you dare talk about him like that.”
“Cos, I didn’t mean—”
“No,” Joshua cut in, voice low and shaking. “You did. All this ‘be a knight, not a pawn’ bullshit you keep feeding me? I should’ve worked with Sonny, not against him. But instead I let you distract me with sponsorships and stupid social media crap like that was ever going to save the team. Or me.”
He stepped closer, fire rising behind his eyes.
“I fought my whole damn life to get to Formula One. If you think I’m not gonna fight just as hard to stay here—with everything I’ve got—then you’re sorely mistaken.”
He dragged a hand through his hair, breath shaking.
“God damn it…I shouldn’t have listened to you.”
Cash’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, so now your whole mess is my fault?”
“Choosing to listen to you? No.” Joshua stepped closer. “But you feeding me the idea that I had to make Sonny look bad? That’s all on you.”
Cash’s expression twisted. He clicked his tongue.
“Y’know what, Josh? Fuck off. After everything I’ve done for you, I deserve better than this. You’re nothing but an entitled prick with no backbone. I got you those sponsors. I opened every door so you could live the damn dream. I’m looking out for your future when you can’t even do it yourself!”
Joshua took one step forward—nose to nose, chest rising with anger.
“If you were looking out for my future, you would’ve told me to get my act together and win this thing as a team.” His voice dropped, deadly quiet. “Not tear it apart.”
Cash opened his mouth, but Joshua cut him off.
“And you’re right,” Joshua said. “I didn’t have a backbone. Because I trusted you. Because I thought you had mine.”
He stared at the floor, steadying his breath. When he lifted his head, every trace of boyishness was gone.
His voice was neutral. Final.
“You’ll always be family, Cash. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
Cash froze, his mouth parted like he wanted to argue but couldn’t form the words.
For the first time since they’d met, Joshua watched him shrink—no bluster, no defense, just a man realizing he’d gone too far.
“But you can leave. I don’t need you anymore.”
A beat.
“You’re fired.”
He turned on his heel without waiting to see the look on Cash’s face.
When Joshua entered the Auditorium through the side entrance, he did a double take at the size of the crowd. Nearly half the rows were filled with media journalists and reporters from one side to the other. Video cameras and devices joined the sea of faces—some he recognized and many he didn’t. They were all facing the empty conference table at the center of the stage. APEX GP’s logo sat on the banner behind it in large black and white letters.
He spotted Luca, and his mother standing in the top back row flanked by two APEX GP personnel—either members of the media team, or security, he guessed. They both gave him a smile and thumbs up. Bianca stood a bit further away, looking polished and poised. For a moment, it felt like Ruben was there.
Beside her was Kate and another woman he didn’t recognize. When Bianca angled her head towards him, they followed. Bianca and Kate offered him a subtle nod, except for the mystery woman. She merely glanced at him, her expression neutral. The interaction only lasted a second or two, but he could have sworn she was sizing him up. Her presence made his stomach coil. Whoever this lady was, she looked important.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he felt the weight of everyone’s stares land on him. He forced his own face to be neutral and beelined towards Kaspar and Lisbeth at the edge of the stage.
Kaspar greeted him with a solid pat on the back. Lisbeth gave him a measured look, her sharp, blue eyes flickering behind him. She leaned in.
“Where’s your manager?” Lisbeth whispered.
“He won’t be joining us,” Joshua whispered back far too quickly and he prayed Lisbeth didn’t hear the tremor in his voice.
Him and Cash always travelled together. Lisbeth had gotten to know his cousin quite well through all the media days, sponsor events, and conferences he had to do. Joshua prayed it wouldn’t be a problem. Because it would be if it was. And he was already overwhelmed by how everything went down.
It seemed she got the memo and dismissed the notion with a quiet huff. “No matter. Real quick before you start—”
As Lisbeth gave him and Kaspar final tips, all Joshua could think about was the disappointment in Cash and in himself. He knew that Cash wasn’t a big fan of Sonny and made it known with every cynical jab made towards him when they were in private. Although he always wore a polite face when he was in public.
He knew deep down Cash was just trying to protect him. But that comment about Sonny…the images of his still body through the glass window. How dead he looked stuck in the cockpit unconscious and bleeding…
God, Cash had been there in the hospital with him when his father finally passed away. How could he say something like that?
He repeated Cash’s words in his head, quickly realizing there was a sense of fear behind it. But even so, what he said had been one step too far over the line for Joshua.
Were there times where he wanted Sonny gone? Yes, but not dead. He would have been satisfied if Sonny were racing elsewhere outside of Formula One.
Perhaps if Cash had been in his shoes, maybe he wouldn’t have said what he said. And maybe Joshua wouldn’t have fired him.
Fuck.
Had he just blown up his entire future in a hallway?
The thought alone made his pulse flicker.
He could see the headlines in every sports news and magazine clear as day:
WITH SONNY HAYES GONE, APEX GP CONTINUES TO UNRAVEL—DRAMA BEHIND THE SCENES
Lisbeth would have his head if he added more fuel to the storm they were already in. He’d seen her wrath before and did not want to be at the tail end of it.
He breathed a sigh of relief when she dismissed the matter. If she had an opinion about it, she didn’t share.
“I will step in if things get weird or out of hand, just like we talked about earlier. Alright?”
Both men nodded, yet Joshua felt that was more or less meant for him.
Kaspar and Joshua climbed up the steps and claimed their seats at the table. As soon as they did, the room’s energy shifted. Conversations died off while several journalists straightened. The shuffling of equipment stilled.
There were several smartphones next to the microphones.
The reality of what he was about to do hit him hard and fast. He pushed down the urge to crawl under the table, or roll himself beneath a very large, inconspicuous boulder, and never come back out.
But this was his press conference. The one he’d asked for.
He inhaled through his nose, slow and steady. Exhaled twice as long.
Once the entire room settled, Lisbeth stepped forward, her voice crisp and controlled as she launched into the introduction for tonight’s press statement.
“Good evening. Thank you all for joining us on short notice. We recognize that the circumstances surrounding Expensify APEX GP and our drivers have raised significant questions over the past week.” She paused, sweeping the crowd. “Tonight’s briefing is intended to clarify recent events and allow driver Joshua Pearce and Team Principal Kaspar Smolinski to address them directly. We ask that all questions remain relevant to today’s topic and that you maintain professional conduct throughout the session. We will begin with a statement from Mr. Pearce, followed by a moderated Q and A.”
She stepped aside, leaning slightly towards them and murmured, “Cameras are rolling,” then retreated to the corner behind them.
Joshua bit the inside of his cheek.
Here we go.
“Uh…thanks for showing up so quickly. I know you’ve all got a million things to do before Abu Dhabi, so I’ll try to keep this clear and to the point. There’s something I need to own up to.”
He brought his trembling hands together on the table, steadying himself.
“After the race in Vegas was done, a few of us visited Sonny in the hospital. He…he made it through surgery, but he’s currently in an induced coma. The doctors are hopeful, but it’s still too early to know when he’ll wake up.”
A ripple of murmurs swept across the room. Joshua paused, blinking away the sudden sting in his eyes.
“I’m hoping he wakes up soon and with no complications so I can tell him this myself,” he continued quietly. “But until then…I need to say it here.”
He swallowed hard.
“Many of you blame Sonny for what happened to me in Monza. But the truth is that the crash didn’t happen because Sonny was running my race. It ended that way because I didn’t listen to him when he told me to wait for the straight before turn one. I ignored his instructions and thought I could do better. So I decided to overtake Verstappen. And that choice—my choice—is what sent me into the barrier.”
The entire room erupted in chaos. Just as he expected. A Sky Sports reporter shot her hand up first and stood.
“If that’s true, Joshua, then why didn’t APX GP leadership support this version of events at the time?”
“Would you have believed us?” he countered, voice steady.
A few cameras clicked sharply. The voices grew louder.
Before the Sky reporter could respond, another journalist from the second row jumped in.
“Why should we believe you now? Isn’t this just guilt talking? Especially with your teammate in critical condition? Some might say you’re rewriting the narrative because Sonny Hayes might not survive.”
A ripple of sharp, uneasy murmurs moved through the room.
Joshua’s jaw tightened. Kaspar opened his mouth to answer, but Joshua beat him to the punch.
“Don’t twist this into some narrative about pity. I’m owning a mistake I made—not rewriting history.”
He knew it should have been Kaspar who responded. But he didn’t regret his impromptu decision. He needed to make sure he got his point across, for Sonny’s sake.
Kaspar spared him a cursory glance, then leaned forward towards the mic. “I will explain why a different version of events was shared after Monza. The incident happened several weeks ago and at the time, the plan was to be fully transparent.”
His voice was steady as he continued.
“However, our driver Sonny Hayes approached leadership shortly after we visited Joshua at San Gerardo. He asked that the responsibility for the crash be placed on him. His reason was that he did not want Joshua to be burdened with the fallout. Reflecting back, honoring that request created confusion. We should have led with clarity from the very beginning.”
Lisbeth pointed to the next person.
“Joshua, were you aware of this decision when it was made?”
“I had a private phone conversation with Ruben and Kaspar, so…yes.”
Cameras clicked. Scribbling echoed everywhere, sounding like nails on a chalkboard.
Lisbeth points to another reporter. He introduced himself as Don Cavendish. Joshua remembered him. Don addressed him, eyebrows raised sharply.
“Mr. Pearce, are you saying that you willingly agreed to let Mr. Hayes take the blame for your accident?”
Shame washed over him when he admitted, “Yeah. I did. He deserved better.”
The room erupted again, this time louder. Questions were being shot rapid-fire from every direction.
“Was Sonny aware of your agreement to this?”
“Joshua, how could you do that to your own team mate?”
“Where’s Ruben? Why isn’t he here to tell us the truth himself?”
Lisbeth’s hands came up to try and regain order. The energy directed at him—both hostile and confused—made Joshua want to puke. Joshua just breathed in and out through his nose as calmly as he could. Kaspar gave him a pat on the arm.
“To answer your questions,” Joshua started, cutting through the noise. “Yes, Sonny was aware of my agreement. Why did I do it? Because I was a prick and afraid to lose my seat. It boosted my ego, but it also came with real consequences. I am ashamed that I let myself stoop low enough to play with someone else’s life like that.” He looked directly into one of the cameras. “So I’m here to admit my wrongdoing. To set the record straight. And I’m going to give it my all in Abu Dhabi. To make it right by Sonny and by my team. As for Ruben…”
He directed that one to Kaspar, who immediately picked up where Joshua left off.
“Ruben has chosen to stay in Las Vegas with Sonny for personal reasons. He is also Mr. Hayes’ primary emergency contact, and the hospital formally requested his presence during this phase of care. He will not be giving interviews at this time and respectfully declines all media requests until further notice.”
Lisbeth attempted to control the crowd again. Before she could redirect, a gentleman in the front row stood up and fired his question.
“Is it really just ‘personal reasons’ for Ruben Cervantes, Team Owner of Expensify APEX GP, to stay behind in Vegas? It seems odd that he isn’t here. I can understand the ‘emergency contact’ situation, but it feels as though it’s the perfect cover for him to avoid taking responsibility for his part in this false narrative.”
Lisbeth stepped in on this one. “You did not have the floor. And to reiterate: Mr. Cervantes’ situation has been fully clarified. Speculation or insinuation will not be permitted in this briefing. Next question.”
A blonde woman from The Race goes next. “There’s chatter in the fanbase that Sonny’s crash may have been deliberate. Fans are speculating that he did it on purpose—maybe even as self-imposed retribution for what happened to you in Monza, Joshua. Can either of you comment on that?”
A ripple of disbelief surged through the room again. This time, Joshua felt his stomach drop, unsure of how to answer. All he could see was the image of Hugh sobbing about the exact same implication.
“We cannot comment on that right now, as we do not have any additional information regarding his health beyond the surgery he just underwent,” Kaspar answered. “However, if Sonny requires any help or support in any capacity, we are fully prepared to provide that to him.”
The next person had a much louder tone, and downright provocative. “Expensify APEX GP has a history of pushing the rulebook. Did leadership pressure Sonny Hayes into taking the blame for Monza? Was this another case of gaming the system?”
Kaspar opened his mouth, but Lisbeth touched his arm—permission to speak, but framing it, Joshua recalled.
“No,” he replied. “There was absolutely no pressure from myself, Ruben, or anyone in leadership. Sonny approached us. And he was insistent that the blame fell on him. In hindsight, we should have rejected that request, but there was no coercion of any kind.”
The gentleman raised his eyebrow as if unconvinced. Lisbeth cut in again. Her tone left no room for argument.
“And to be clear, Expensify APEX GP has never broken FIA regulations. Suggesting otherwise without evidence is reckless. Move on. Next question.”
“Joshua, do you think Sonny blames you for Vegas?”
The question hits him hard. It’s the same question Sonny had been asked at the Zandvoort Grand Prix press conference, except now reversed to him.
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, voice cracking. “But I’m willing to have an honest conversation with him about it. If he’ll let me.”
Another reporter greets him. “Do you intend on racing if you are unable to stay in Formula One?”
The question made him pause. “Are you insinuating that I am unable to win the team a podium?”
“No, but your team hasn’t placed any podiums in its entire three-year tenure. And in your rookie season, despite how good you’ve driven, you haven’t either. Do you have any back up plans, since everyone on the grid has already been signed and confirmed for next year?”
He winced. Cash’s voice rang loud and clear in his head. The question hit something in him that he hadn’t acknowledged until that moment. It hurt to think he’d have to find another career other than in Formula One—the very reason he worked so hard since childhood to climb up the ladder. He had made it. And now, he was falling.
He caught himself wondering how many ‘participation trophies’ it would take to get him into IndyCar—if they’d even want him at all.
“I, uh, I honestly haven’t thought that far yet, but I have a lifetime ahead of me to figure that out. I’m sure whatever I end up doing next will be just as great and fulfilling as this.”
That earned a series of scoffs. They were clearly unconvinced. He could hear them whispering, “Formula One is the pinnacle”, and that “his future was done”. And a part of him couldn’t agree more.
“Joshua, given your turbulent start to the season and your documented tension with Mr. Hayes on track—combined with his well-known history of gambling, financial instability, his crash in 1993, and his periods of homelessness—do you believe your behavior towards him contributed to creating an unsafe work environment for him? And beyond that, how does Expensify APEX GP leadership take responsibility for failing to protect a vulnerable driver?”
A sharp, collective inhale filled the room.
Joshua’s face drained. So did Kaspar’s.
Even Kate flinched in the back row.
Lisbeth instantly interjected.
“Absolutely not. We will not allow journalists to weaponize someone’s past trauma and medical history to fabricate a narrative about blame. Mr. Hayes’ medical and personal history are private, and unrelated to today’s conference. Strike the question.”
The reporter tried again. “But given the tension between the dr—”
Lisbeth, steely, rebuked. “The question is stricken. Next!”
She held the man’s gaze until he sat down.
Only then did she nod to Joshua. He remembered what the cue meant, and leaned into the mic.
“I didn’t create an unsafe environment for Sonny. I created an unsafe environment for myself by not listening. And I regret that. But Sonny? He’s the toughest person I’ve ever met. He didn’t break because of me. He survived things I can’t even imagine.” He adds, “And when he wakes up, I’m going to tell him that to his face.”
Another barrage started to rise, but Lisbeth lifted a hand.
“We will take two final questions.”
The next reporter addressed Kaspar.
“With Sonny unavailable, who will take the second seat for the final race and what do you think your chances are of winning a podium this weekend?”
“Our reserve driver, Luca Cortez, will step into the second seat for Abu Dhabi. As for us winning a podium…” He scanned every face in the room, cataloguing their faces. “I’m keeping my hopes up. Everyone has worked very hard this year, and I am proud of all of them. I think it will be a great race.”
“Last question”, Lisbeth calls out, pointing to a younger journalist in one of the back rows.
“Hi Joshua. My name is LJ from Formula World. My sister is a huge fan of yours. So to people like her, and many others around the world, what would you say to fans who have supported you up until now?”
Other than camera clicks, all the other sounds went quiet as they waited for Joshua’s response. He looked down at the table, towards his hands where the scars were, clear as day. Joshua made sure he looked at LJ directly when he answered.
“I’d say…I’d say I’m sorry for not being the driver, or team mate, or role model I should have been. I’m disappointed in the things that I have done, but I believe it will make me a better person because of it. For everyone who follows me, I am grateful and won’t hold it against anyone who no longer wishes to.”
He glances up at Kate and Luca. Flickers to Lisbeth and Kaspar on either side of him. He thinks of the racing support team and the pit crew and everyone at APEX GP who are probably watching this conference right now. He thought about the two men who gave him the chance to be here—his father and Ruben. And he thought of Sonny Hayes.
“But please support APEX GP. This team is filled with the best people I’ve ever known. We are a band of misfits in the world of motorsports who love what we do and work every day to be better. None of us would be here without Ruben Cervantes. Or my mentor, Sonny Hayes. And everyone else on this team. I’ve had the privilege to work alongside all of them and I wouldn’t be here without any of them.”
The sincerity hit the room like a quiet detonation. Silence followed, thick and emotional.
Lisbeth stepped forward.
“Thank you, everyone. That concludes tonight’s briefing. We appreciate your professionalism and your time. Written statements will be released within the hour. Expensify APEX GP will not take any further questions.”
She gave a single, authoritative nod to security.
Kate, Bianca, Bernadette, and Luca immediately started moving down toward the front, with the mystery lady and the APXGP personnel in tow.
Joshua exhaled shakily as he exited the Auditorium, ignoring the chatter of the post interview. He felt utterly exhausted and drained. Kaspar walked beside him, and placed a steady hand on Joshua’s back.
“You did well,” he murmured, looking just as tired.
Joshua simply nodded. He felt a bit lighter, but wasn’t completely sure if he believed him.
Chapter Text
Joshua and Kaspar walked in companionable silence toward the private break room tucked deep inside the administration wing. Lisbeth had instructed them to go there together immediately after the conference. Most of the staff, minus those attending the conference, would be the only ones there, and Joshua couldn’t have been more relieved. Given the room was hidden in a part of the facility only long-timers knew how to navigate, anyone looking for them would need a map and divine intervention.
It was perfect for avoiding a pack of piranhas who were now leaving hungry.
Even stepping outside to reach his own car felt like a risk he wasn’t prepared to take. Kaspar felt the same.
Joshua didn’t want to imagine worst-case scenarios, but his mind kept going there anyway. He thought about the others already at the Yas Marina circuit, of how they now see him. He thought of Pippa and Dodge and Rico—the people he respected who now knew the truth and wondered how things would be different in Abu Dhabi. He knew Hugh and Jodie had become close with Sonny. His heart sank when they crossed his mind. Did they hate him now, too?
A part of him was okay with that. He deserved it, after all. His mind drifted and suddenly, he thought of his dad. He grimaced. His father was probably rolling in his grave right now.
Joshua felt sick.
When they rounded the corner, he murmured something about needing the restroom and gestured for Kaspar to go ahead. He didn’t wait for a response before pushing the door open and disappearing inside.
Joshua braced both hands on the polished sink, fingers tightening around the porcelain. He didn’t register the tremble in his arms or the way his breath kept snagging in his throat as a wave of nausea suddenly hit him.
A second later, his phone started vibrating against his thigh. Then again, and again, insistently. His stomach dropped in dread. He shouldn’t touch it, he told himself, but another part of him was too curious to know—he had to know what people were saying about him.
In a desperate attempt to talk himself out of it and failing miserably, he slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone. It was also a force of habit—something he always did when he got nervous or needed to ground himself with brain rot apps and videos.
His mom has told him it wasn’t a healthy coping method, but he politely ignored her, saying it was his generation’s way of “staying connected” and “always being in the know”. But he knew he was lying to himself. The device—always reliable, always there—was his form of “control” over what he couldn’t in reality. He was aware of this, but chose to be a slave to it anyway.
Even Sonny told him to ignore it.
It’s just noise, man.
A part of him wished he’d listened more.
Hundreds of notifications drowned his lock screen, popping up one right after the other—from X, Reddit, Instagram, Apple News.
#PearcePlaysGod trending worldwide—fans furious over Monza confession
“Ageism in F1???” Pearce accused of targeting Hayes as ‘expendable.’
PEARCE LET HAYES TAKE THE FALL—receipts dropping. #ProtectSonny
Motorsport experts slam Pearce’s confession as ‘reckless’—F1 future in doubt
Mass support for Sonny Hayes floods X: ‘He didn’t deserve ANY of this.’
His vision tunneled.
Joshua barely made it to the toilet before he vomited into the basin, gripping the rim so hard his knuckles blanched.
The force of slamming the stall door echoed in tandem with his retching. A few feet away, his phone buzzed on the tile behind him, persistent and taunting.
Joshua didn’t turn. He couldn’t.
The thought of seeing one more notification made his stomach pitch violently.
He stayed like that—shaking, breath hitching, the taste of acid burning the back of his throat—as the weight of the world pressed down on him all at once. He let out a soft whimper. In his mind, he kept repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over.
Everything felt like a fevered dream. The conference replayed itself like a loop in his head. Most of the questions they anticipated, but the one where they accused him of creating an unsafe environment for Sonny due to his past made him feel like the worst person in the world.
He never considered Sonny’s circumstances and in all of their verbal exchanges, he always talked about him and his achievements. Sonny never said anything about himself. Joshua thought Sonny was too prideful and arrogant, thinking himself almighty and better.
Joshua was now confronted with the real truth, one he turned a blind eye to—and knew he was wrong on many levels.
His arms shivered as he attempted to reach for toilet paper. It took several tries before he got what he needed, throwing the soiled paper into the bowl. He stared at the contents within the basin, feeling equal parts empty and numb.
He had laughed when he learned Sonny lived in a van, thinking it was a lifestyle choice like those families he’d seen on TV living in RV’s. Yet he never considered if the homeless situation was by choice or circumstance.
The gambling and personal bankruptcy likely had something to do with that. But even before that, Sonny had walked away from Jerez with his life, but not his career. Joshua’s recovery time only took a few weeks and returned right after. Sonny’s must have been years. The medical debt he must have dealt with…
Joshua wasn’t blind to that very reality could flood someone into homelessness. He’d seen his fair share growing up. What was even worse—Sonny had been only a year older than him during Jerez. Joshua couldn’t even fathom losing everything he worked so hard for all slip out of his hands in a flash.
He thought about Sonny’s parents, and then his own. His mother and father did everything in their power to give Joshua every opportunity possible. Had it been the same for Sonny when he grew up, even after his father died?
And after the crash, did Sonny have family that looked after him, like Joshua’s did? Was he able to get all the proper help and medication and specialists he needed? How long did he stay in the hospital? How long did it take him to walk again?
A sob ripped through Joshua as he pressed his forehead against his forearm.
God, how could he judge Sonny like that? And the way he treated him? Yes, Sonny gave it back sometimes, but Joshua started it first. What gave him the right to do so?
When the other reporter asked him if he thought Sonny would blame him for his crash, what he really wanted to tell them was that it didn’t matter what Sonny thought, whether he did or didn’t blame him. Regardless of Sonny’s opinion, Joshua did feel wholly and utterly responsible.
And if he had in some way, shape, or form made things worse for Sonny either intentionally or unintentionally, Joshua would work the rest of his life making up for it.
He stayed there like that, sobbing into his arms, anchored to the floor with unfiltered shame and guilt.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept repeating to himself, now out loud.
It felt like no amount of apologies would ever be enough.
Inside the private break room, the others waited.
Bernadette was pacing back and forth, worry carved into every line of her face.
Joshua had left the Auditorium several minutes before she and the others did. Kaspar had mentioned he excused himself to the restroom on the way here—that had been fifteen minutes ago.
Too long.
Bernadette’s pulse tightened. Without a word, she slipped out of the room.
The hallway was quiet, the kind of quiet that made her chest hollow. When she reached the men’s restroom, she paused.
Faint, broken sobs bled through the door.
“Joshua?” she called softly, pushing her way inside.
The first thing she saw was his phone lying face-up on the tile—screen cracked, notifications flashing in a relentless stream. She sighed under her breath and set it gently on the sink.
All the stall doors were closed.
She crouched slowly, dread tightening her ribs, and spotted a pair of folded legs beneath one of the doors.
“Oh God…”
She eased the door open.
Joshua was on the floor, collapsed over the toilet, sobbing into his arms. The bowl was filled with vomit. His shoulders shook with every ragged breath.
Bernadette gasped—once, sharply—and then instinct took over.
“Sweetheart…” she whispered, already lowering herself beside him.
Joshua didn’t fight her as she pulled him into her arms like she used to when he was small. He sagged against her, trembling, letting her shoulder take his weight.
With one steady hand, Bernadette reached past him, flushed the toilet, then tore off a handful of toilet paper. She eased back just enough to swipe his mouth clean, then wiped the tear tracks streaking down his cheeks.
The simple gesture—so familiar, so instinctive—broke through his fog.
“M–Mum?” His voice cracked, raw and childlike.
“I’m here, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay,” she whispered, brushing her thumb across his cheek with infinite tenderness.
That was all it took.
A fresh wave of sobs tore through him, helpless and overflowing. Bernadette said nothing else, didn’t ask questions, didn’t rush him.
She just held him, arms wrapped securely around her grown son as he cried into her shoulder, like he had when the world was too big and too scary and he was too young to understand it.
Bernadette held him until his sobs softened into shuddering breaths. When his shoulders finally stilled, she smoothed a hand through his hair and spoke in the gentlest tone she owned.
“Come on, sweetheart… let’s get you out of here.”
Joshua nodded, slow and dazed, his eyelids heavy and swollen. He didn’t resist as she shifted her stance and helped him sit back against the stall wall for a moment, steadying his breathing.
“Okay,” she murmured, slipping one hand beneath his arm. “On three. One… two… three.”
Joshua rose shakily to his feet, leaning heavily into her. His legs wobbled beneath him like they might give out at any moment. Bernadette tightened her arm around his waist to keep him upright.
“Mum—” he whispered, ashamed at how weak he sounded.
“You’re alright. I’ve got you,” she assured him, voice firm enough to anchor him, soft enough not to crush him.
She guided him out of the stall, retrieving the cracked phone from the sink on their way. He whimpered at the sight of it, but she tucked it into her own pocket before he could crumble again.
Together, they shuffled out of the restroom—Joshua half-walking, half-folded against her—and into the hallway.
When the door to the break room opened, conversations died instantly.
Kate, Luca, Kaspar, and the few gathered APX staff turned sharply at the sound of movement. Every set of eyes widened at the sight of Joshua clinging to his mother, pale, lashes wet, breath still uneven.
“Oh my god…” Kate rose quickly out of her seat, chair screeching.
Luca froze mid-step, guilt etched deep in his expression. Kaspar straightened so quickly his chair scraped across the floor.
Bernadette guided Joshua forward, her hand firm between his shoulder blades.
“He got overwhelmed,” she announced quietly. “He needs to sit.”
Joshua didn’t make it that far.
The moment he saw Kate—solid, steady Kate—his chest caved in. A choked sound slipped from him, halfway between a gasp and a sob.
Kate surged forward without hesitation.
“Come here,” she whispered, arms opening just in time for Joshua to collapse into them.
He folded into her, full weight sagging as if every bone had turned to water. Kate wrapped her arms around him, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades.
He clung to her like he was drowning.
“It’s alright. Let it out,” Kate murmured, her cheek pressed to his temple. “You’re not alone. I’m right here. We’re all here for you.”
Joshua shook with every breath, his fingers fisting in her shirt. The room blurred around him. Luca hovered nearby, stiff and hesitant. Kaspar’s shoulders slumped, shaking his head. Bernadette sank down into the chair beside them. Her own heart broke seeing her son like this.
He tried to speak—tried to apologize, to explain, to breathe—but nothing came out except another strangled sob. Kate just held him tighter.
“You’re safe,” she whispered. “You’re safe. Joshua, you did the hardest thing a person can do. And you’re still here.”
The words cracked something new open inside him.
And Joshua sobbed all over again.
Chapter 25
Notes:
Holy moly! We’re 25% there!! 🥳 Thank you to everyone who has supported this series. Your comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions on AO3 and Discord are much appreciated. I’m honored to know this story had a place in your hearts as it does mine. It’s a heavy story that’s not always easy to write, but anything worth it is worth the challenges. There is more to come, as APX GP very soon heads to Abu Dhabi for the final race.
But for today, we return to Sonny’s dreamscape. Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Everything was exactly as Sonny remembered—the metal work bench, the smell of motor oil, the red toolbox he and mom bought together for his father’s fortieth birthday—
A soft pitter patter echoed into the empty room as he stepped further into the old mechanic shop.
JP’s pitless black eyes watched him from the far corner.
Moving past the shelves piled with parts and containers, Sonny stopped in front of a little corkboard next to the mini fridge. Three photos were pinned there.
The first was a picture of a strikingly beautiful woman in a white dress smiling at a handsome young man in a brown suit.
The one next to it was the same woman, a little older, holding a bundle in her arms, cooing at it softly.
The third was a photo of the same man and woman, aged by about a decade or so, leaning on one another, one arm wrapped around each other and the other around someone else. Between them was a young little boy with blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a blinding smile to match, clinging onto the arms around him with just as much vigor.
Sonny swallowed the emotion welling up in his chest, quickly swiping the edge of his eyes with his thumb.
“They loved you, didn’t they?”
Sonny didn’t answer, instead turning to glance at his surroundings again, this time zeroing in on the side of the room JP occupied.
On the grease-splotched floor, where the kart stand should have been, lay a torque wrench instead.
Sonny’s stomach dropped. His fingers twitched, as if he was about to grip a steering wheel.
“You were always good with tools,” JP said lightly. “Except when you weren’t.”
Sonny’s jaw tightened.
“Such a small detail,” JP sighed. “Such a shame.”
The taunt was clear in his voice. It made Sonny clench his fists until his knuckles whitened.
“Do you ever think about how it should have gone differently?” JP asked, coming off of the wall.
Sonny stiffened as JP prowled toward him, slow and deliberate, never once breaking his gaze.
“That’s none of your business,” Sonny shot back. God, he wished JP would just leave him alone.
“Believe me, as much as I’d like to, I can’t,” JP said.
Sonny rolled his eyes. “Will you stop—”
“Are you losing your hearing, old man? Or did you just forget what I told you out there?”
Sonny shot JP a glare, but said nothing further.
“Look,” JP started, hands on his hips. “You and I can’t leave here until we settle some unfinished business.”
“What kind of business?”
“The messy kind. And I know you’re not gonna like it.”
Sonny narrowed his eyes.
“Well, whatever it is, I can handle it. I don’t need your help,” Sonny shot back, matching his stance.
JP smiled. White teeth flashed in the dark.
“Oh, but you do,” he said softly. “Don’t deny the truth.”
“I’m being serious,” Sonny shot back.
“So am I.” JP stepped over the torque wrench, like he was stepping over a rope, and walked right into Sonny’s space.
“What are you—”
Sonny barely had time to register it before a fist cracked across his face. White flared behind his eyes as the blow snapped his head to the side, heat blooming along his cheekbone.
He staggered—but instinct took over before the shock could settle.
Sonny caught JP’s next swing, fingers locking around his forearm, and drove his foot into JP’s stomach—hard. The impact jolted up his leg, bone-deep. He flinched despite himself as JP’s breath left him in a sharp, broken sound.
JP staggered back, crashing into the shelves behind him. Spray bottles, canisters, and glass jars rattled loose—clink, clang—
They hit the floor and shattered.
Glass exploded across the concrete.
Sonny threw his arms up, instinctively shielding his face.
He wasn’t expecting hands to seize his arms—or the sudden crack as JP drove his forehead into Sonny’s skull.
Sonny cursed, seeing double.
Before he could recover, a sharp, merciless punch to his gut ripped the air from his lungs. Sonny doubled over, gasping helplessly.
JP suddenly backed off as Sonny stumbled, one arm clutched over his middle. His other hand scraped uselessly behind him, grasping blindly for something—anything—to steady himself.
The room swam. He could still make out JP bending down and picking something up from the floor.
“You thought you could save me, old man? What about the others?” JP asked.
JP straightened, stepping closer, the metal in his hand glinting as he spun it lazily between his fingers.
“‘Get your shit together,’” JP mocked. His laugh rang hollow in the room. “How are we supposed to follow your advice when you can’t do that yourself?”
Sonny’s breath hitched.
Then his free hand brushed over something cold and metallic. He glanced down—
A wrench.
“You said it like it meant something. Like you didn’t already fail,” JP continued. His voice began to distort, the edges stretching and warping. The British accent bled into something darker. Older. Familiar.
“But you did.”
Sonny’s blood ran cold.
JP’s voice was gone.
In its place was the voice that had spoken to him on the Vegas circuit. Low. Intimate. Certain.
The monster.
Still wearing JP’s face.
“Fuck you,” Sonny spat, lifting the wrench with shaking hands, pointing it like a weapon.
The monster laughed. It sounded wrong coming from that mouth.
“Aw, don’t be a spoil sport, Sonny,” it crooned. “You’re nothing without me.”
Sonny shook his head violently. “I don’t need you.”
The monster stepped closer.
Panic clawed up his spine. “I’m not afraid of you!” he shouted, the words breaking apart as they left him.
JP—no, it—opened its arms wide, unguarded. Inviting.
“Really?” JP’s voice returned. “Then go ahead. Knock my teeth out, coach.”
Sonny hesitated only for a millisecond, then swung.
The impact was brutal. Metal met metal, both men swinging their weapons with everything they had. Sonny yelped at the sharp pain up his leg, momentarily cursing at the glass shards surrounding them. He barely missed the singing of metal missing his chin by a millimeter—the heat branding his skin. But it was the perfect opening. Sonny lunged forward, slamming his body into JP.
The pair crashed against the shelves, wrestling for dominance. Cans and parts clattered to the floor. More glass shards dug into Sonny’s feet, but he couldn’t feel them. His eyes were blown wide, his movements wild and desperate, completely driven by a primal fear.
This wasn’t winning. The only thing that crossed his mind was surviving.
JP clocked him again in the chin, but Sonny held on, not letting go. He blinked away a speck of red, oblivious to the gashes on his forehead.
Suddenly, he yelped when a hand tangled in his hair and pulled.
Pain flared as his head back was yanked backward, the angle of his neck straining. It forced him to face up, blinking against the lights. When his vision cleared, Sonny gasped.
A new face stared back at him.
It was his own.
Younger. Thinner. Longer hair. Eyes rimmed red with dark bags. Behind the ice blue eyes was a storm of grief and rage and something else that made Sonny’s heart skip a beat.
Hate.
“Are you okay, JP?” his younger self asked without turning to the other.
“Yeah. Peachy,” JP coughed out his response, spitting out blood. “Watch it, he bites.”
Sonny flickered his gaze at JP, then to his younger self. Then he spotted something. There poking out through the tank on his younger version’s chest was an eagle tattoo. It was the first tat he had gotten when he turned eighteen. When he left his hometown. A marker of his first solo steps into adulthood. Alone and solitary.
“You hurt JP,” his younger version stated. His voice was devoid of emotion.
“Let me go!” Sonny commanded. His hair was pulled tighter. He had forgotten how strong he had been at that age—all testosterone and raw muscle. He couldn’t budge.
“You forgot,” his younger self said calmly.
Sonny’s breath hitched.
He watched JP hand his younger self the torque wrench and raised it high above his head. The weight of it looked familiar in his grip.
“You forgot—and he paid for it.”
The last thing Sonny saw was metal and flesh coming down.
Notes:
This is the inspiration for 18 year old Sonny: https://www.usmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/brad-pitt-09.jpg?quality=40&strip=all
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FanGirlAllGrownUp on Chapter 1 Tue 26 Aug 2025 10:13PM UTC
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