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Hospital chairs were notoriously uncomfortable, but trying and failing to find a position that wouldn’t leave him sore was really the only thing for Alain to do. Somehow, being comfortable would only make the waiting worse. It was much easier to catalogue every aspect of this stupid chair than to think about the man lying unconscious on the other side of the room.
Even like this, Ayrton looked beautiful. His soft curls formed a halo around his head, his chest rising as soft breaths left his slightly parted mouth. He looked peaceful, relaxed almost.
Alain wasn’t sure if he should be mad, or even if the anger could work its way past the worry he seemed to be drowning in. He knew that crashing was a part of their jobs. He’d seen his fair share of accidents, but as always, it was different with Ayrton.
He’d been in the pits, waiting patiently to take his shot at qualifying when it happened, so he hadn’t seen it. He still wasn’t sure if was thankful for that or not. Alain had been the first on the scene of an accident before, and he’d probably feel a bit more in control if he’d been there from the start. Perhaps a bit more clear headed. As it was, he was useless with the doctors and nurses. He hoped the numb nodding to their explanations was enough to convince them that he was in fact able to form more than one coherent thought at a time. Or at least, that it was enough for them to let him stay by Ayrton’s side while they waited for him to wake up.
It had really only been about 30 hours since Ayrton had thrown his car into the wall. Well, thrown was probably unfair considering Alain still hadn’t actually seen what had happened and really knowing Ayrton it was unlikely he had done this completely unprompted.
Alain would have to look over the design of the car. One of the engineers would have a copy of it and Alain was sure he looked desperate enough to get it. His bloodshot puffy eyes were only made more pronounced by the prominent dark circles underneath them which only seemed to be getting worse by the hour. To put it simply, Alain was sure that he looked like shit. So far, looking like a train wreck gave them a bit more privacy as the hospital staff steered clear of him and only entered Ayrton’s room when necessary which was becoming less often as the hours dragged on.
His little corner of the hospital room was already covered in papers. Some from McLaren with the telemetry and others were copies of Ayrton’s charts that one of the nurses had been kind enough to make. All of them were covered in notes that only Alain could read. Understanding the car was the only relevant thing that Alain was good at, the only real way he could contribute. Even if it wouldn’t make much of a difference for Ayrton now, he needed to know. He needed to figure out what had happened, where the problem within the car was, and how he had missed it.
He couldn’t help but feel partially responsible. Out of the two of them he had spent far more time with the engineers, analyzing data, and working on the car. He knew every aspect of that car inside and out, yet he’d missed something. There was a problem and he hadn’t spotted it in time. Making sure the cars were running smoothly was the one thing he could do to keep Ayrton safe, and he’d failed.
Sunlight streamed in through the window bathing his notes in a soft golden hugh. The sun would be setting soon, providing a much needed bit of quiet. Alain had big intentions of continuing to review the telemetry and prepare for when he finally had the opportunity to chew out Ron, but the darkness creeping its way into the room and the rhythmic beeping of Ayrton’s heart monitor eventually lulling him into a fitful sleep.
Waking up with drool and random pieces of paper stuck to his cheek was unpleasant, waking up half in a hospital chair and half slumped over a desk only made things worse. The weird grunting noise coming from the other side of the room definitely wasn’t helping. It took a moment for Alain's eyes to adjust to the darkness flooding the room and to remember exactly what he was doing in a hospital room in the first place.
Things began to click into place as he looked over at Ayrton, who had begun tossing and turning in an attempt to fight his way back into consciousness.
Alain held his breath as Ayrton groggily ran a hand over his face. His brows knit together as he looked around the room, inspecting the machines softly beeping around him.
Their eyes met and Ayrton immediately burst into tears.
Alain froze.
“Ah Deus . . . Mãe, I’m sorry . . . Deus please . . .”
The sound of Ayrton’s choked out pleas startled Alain into action. As he approached the bedside, Ayrton grabbed the front of shirt pulling Alain nearly on top of him.
“Anjo, please!” Ayrton shouted between sobs.
“Mon amour, it’s okay, you’re ok,” Alain’s attempts at reassurance fell on deaf ears as Ayrton continued to weep.
“Please, Anjo, I can’t die yet. I have to win the championship. I need to go back, send me back! Please, Anjo, please!”
As concerned as Alain was, Ayrton’s mostly nonsensical babbling was already getting on his nerves. He pulled his way out of Ayrton’s grasp, instead choosing to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Ayrton, don’t be dramatic, you’re not dying.”
This seemed to shock Ayrton into a brief moment of silence while he seemed to ponder the possibility that he was in fact still alive.
“If I’m not dead, then what are you doing here?” Even with tears rolling down his cheeks, Ayrton managed to look somewhat smug at his own argument.
It was Alain’s turn to be confused.
“Why wouldn’t I be here?”
“Well you’re an angel, so obviously this is Heaven.”
“You think . . . that I’m an . . . angel?”
“Obviously, look at you, what else could you possibly be?” Ayrton stated while waving his hand in Alain’s general direction, seemingly annoyed to be having this conversation.
“. . . your boyfriend?”
Ayrton scoffed at this.
“Not possible, you’re too beautiful.”
Alain was speechless. He was prepared for most things, he’d already planned out what he’d do if it rained during quali for the next three races, but he’d never thought of ways to convince his boyfriend, who was clearly suffering from the combination of a concussion and heavy pain medication, that he was actually a human and not an angel. Truthfully, even if he had put in the time to consider it he wasn’t sure he’d have actually come up with anything useful.
“Meu Anjo, will you stay with me?” Ayrton reached out, desperately grabbing at Alain’s hand. “I don’t want to die, but I think I could accept my own death if you were there to spend eternity with me.”
Alain’s eyes slowly filled with tears, he wasn’t sure if it was due to frustration at Ayrton’s stubbornness, relief that he was okay, or because Ayrton’s confusion was somewhat sweet.
“Cheri, you know I’ll always stay with you.” Alain could see Ayrton’s eyes start to flutter shut as he used his free hand to gently comb his fingers through Ayrton’s hair.
“Please, Anjo, don’t leave me,” Ayrton spoke softly.
“I won’t.” Alain placed a kiss on his forehead as Ayrton dropped off into a dreamless sleep, still clinging to Alain’s hand.
Lying on the bed with Ayrton’s hand in his was infinitely more comfortable than the visitor’s chair Alain had previously folded himself into. He couldn’t help but mentally replay Ayrton’s words over and over again. A small smile spread over his face while remembering Ayrton’s insistence that he was an angel. Regardless of how long they’d be together and how many times Ayrton had said it, being called beautiful still made Alain’s stomach fill with butterflies.
“Mr. Prost?”
“Mhmm?” Alain responded after being startled out of his thoughts by the doctor making her way into the room. He couldn’t help but be slightly embarrassed as he remembered the position he was in. Alain moved to sit up and pry himself out of Ayrton’s grip.
“Please, you don’t have to move. I was just hoping to ask you a couple questions.”
“Yes, of course, of course.” Regardless of how embarrassed he had previously felt, he completely relaxed back into the bed.
“I take it Mr. Senna’s woken up?”
“Yes, but only briefly . . .” Alain paused as he considered how to explain. “ . . . He was . . . confused.”
“How so? Did he know what had happened, where he was?” She asked while jotting down notes.
“He knew what happened, but the confusion was with where he was.”
“He didn’t realize he was in the hospital?”
“He . . . well, he thought he was dead.”
She stopped her writing at this as her eyes snapped up to meet Alain’s.
“Oh?”
“I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t believe me.”
“Did he happen to say why he thought he was dead?”
Alain felt a warm blush spread across his cheeks.
“Mr. Prost?” The doctor prompted.
“Yes, sorry, he thought that he was in Heaven, because he thought that I was an . . . angel?” Alain’s explanation was met with silence as the doctor stared at him, seemingly unprepared for the bizarre explanation coming out of Alain's mouth. “Well, he’s really quite stubborn, so it’s not unusual for him to ignore the logical explanation once he’s made up his mind,” Alain knew he was rambling but he was helpless to stop himself. “I think it’s worse around me, or at least it used to be but we’ve worked things out, obviously, so I think it might be getting better. Last week, I was able to convince him to try my set up and he actually liked it, so that’s promising.” Alain stared up at the doctor with a slightly panicked expression, desperate for her to finally cut him off.
“Okay . . . Well, if he’s woken up already, he’ll probably be up again soon.” She explained while writing furiously and quickly making her way towards the door. “I, um, we’ll run some more tests once he wakes up, so I’ll be back in about an hour.” She had barely finished her sentence before turning and leaving the room.
Alain was beginning to suspect that the blush still adorning his face was going to become permanent. He squirmed around as he tried to get rid of some of the warmth that had spread over his body. A hand reached out to still his movements.
“Alain?” Ayrton murmured, clearly still half asleep. The softness in the way Ayrton said his name, the solid arm now firmly holding him in place, the relief flooding through Alain was palpable. He wasn’t aware of how much worry and stress he had been holding onto, until it began dissipating. His eyes were slowly filling with tears, but he couldn’t cry, not now. Alain would hold it together, he would be strong for Ayrton. He tried to force the tears out of his eyes and prayed that his voice stayed steady.
“Yes, mon coeur?” Despite his best efforts, Alain’s voice broke horribly.
Ayrton’s eyes shot open. Ayrton’s face was blanketed in concern. He pulled Alain impossibly closer to him.
“Oh querido, what’s wrong?”
“You’re okay,” Alain cried, tears openly rolling down his face.
“Yes, I’m okay, we’re both okay, querido, everything will be okay.”
“You . . . I wasn’t sure . . .”
“You know it always looks worse than it is,” Ayrton spoke softly, while gently wiping the tears from Alain’s face. “I promise, I feel perfectly fine.”
In all honesty, Alain had somewhat forgotten about the accident. The whole matter of Ayrton thinking he was actually dead and insisting that Alain was actually an angel, had somewhat taken over his mind.
“It’s not that, I mean it is and we’ll talk about that later, but Ayrton . . . you thought you were . . . dead.” Alain whispered the last word, as if just saying too loud would risk making it come true.
Ayrton looked over at him, slightly confused.
“I know it was a bit of a shunt, but I really don’t think it was serious enough for you to think I’d die. I mean, that’s just a bit dramatic.”
“No, I didn’t think you were dead,” Alain huffed. “Ayrton, you thought you were dead.”
“Why would I think I was dead?”
“You don’t remember what happened when you first woke up?”
“Bits and pieces, I remember that you looked beautiful in the moonlight, but that’s about it. Why?”
“You . . . you started crying, you thought you were in Heaven,” Alain turned his gaze towards his lap, where his hand remained firmly in Ayrton’s. “You thought you were dead because you thought I was an angel.”
Ayrton started laughing, Alain had been worried and embarrassed and had spent the past several hours thinking about this, and Ayrton was laughing. Alain wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch him or kiss him.
“It’s not funny, Ayrton, I was worried about you!”
“I’m sorry, meu amor,” Ayrton managed between bouts of laughter. “But you have to admit, that’s pretty funny.”
Alain would blame it on the fact that Ayrton’s smile was contagious and it was impossible to keep a straight face while Ayrton continued to chuckle, but a smile started to work its way onto his face.
“It was not funny, you kept arguing with me that you had to be dead because I was an angel. Ayrton, you laughed in my face when I tried to tell you we were dating,” Alain might not have been ready to admit it to Ayrton but the entire situation was so absurd that it was actually hilarious.
“You’re just too perfect to be real,” Ayrton giggled.
Alain could feel himself start to shake with laughter.
“I had to tell the doctor,” he paused to let out a slightly obnoxious laugh. “I had to tell her that you thought I was an angel.” Alain felt somewhat hysterical with how much he was laughing but he couldn’t bring himself to stop, it was all just so ridiculous.
Their laughter eventually died down into comfortable silence. Despite Alain’s protests, Ayrton had managed to move the Frenchman so he was nearly on top of him.
“Oh, meu anjo, I’m sorry for making you worry.” Ayrton said while placing a soft kiss onto Alain’s forehead.