Chapter Text
The rain had been pouring down at Silverstone all weekend. The racetrack was practically a swimming pool as the rain lashed down. Most drivers had issues with aquaplaning throughout the practice sessions and quali, but Oscar and Lando had managed a front row lock out for mclaren despite the odds.
Even though there were genuine concerns about the safety of the drivers in the downpour, the officials had all agreed to was safe to race. That's how Oscar ended up sat in pole position, barely able to see through his visor as the grid waited for lights out.
Oscar got off to good start, with Lando close behind in his mirrors. The track was slippery, the car sliding and losing traction through the turns.
Oscar managed to hold onto it well, not making any mistakes. Until he hit Copse.
Cautious but still maintaining control, Oscar guided the car into the turn, feeling the slide of car against the slick track. Just as he thought he'd managed to get through, the car completely lost grip against the ground. Oscar tried to overcorrect, stop himself from spinning off the track but it was too late.
There was nothing he could do as the car hurtled toward the barrier at astonishing speed. Oscar braced himself for the impact as the car slammed head first into the barrier.
Despite his helmet and the safety features, he felt impact through every inch of his body. His helmet cracked against the framework of the car, sending him dizzy and disoriented. He felt pain creep up his spine and into his chest. His eyes fluttered shut almost to try and block out the pain, trying to give himself a minute to recover.
He must have passed out at that point, as when his eyes fluttered open again, he was out of the car, strapped to a stretcher.
Oscar panicked at first, unable to move his head or body. He reached his hand up to try and pull the blocks securing his head away, trying to get more air. A hand reached out to stop him. Oscar began to argue, but stopped when Mark's face came into view.
"Don't move Oscar, you've had a big crash, you need to stay still until you're checked out"
"but the race-"
"The race doesn't matter, Osc. This was bad, mate" Mark said before dropping out of view
"This was bad"
Oscar knew it was bad. He felt bad. His head was pounding and he could feel the pain in the left side of his chest. The pain in his back had thankfully eased but his left leg felt strange, almost as if it wasn't attached to his body. Why did it feel like that? It shouldn't feel like that.
"Mark?" Oscar called out, suddenly feeling like a scared little boy.
"Yes, Oscar?" Mark's face came back into view.
"My left leg feels weird, I can't feel it properly." The fear leaked through into his voice. Mark's face dropped but he quickly painted a fake smile back on.
"Try not to worry until we know more. It'll be okay." Mark reassured him.
It was not okay. Things would never be okay for Oscar again.
The doctors reeled off his injuries. Severe concussion, 3 broken ribs, thankfully no broken limbs.
They saved the worst for last.
Oscar stared at them with a blank expression as they broke the news.
"Unfortunately Mr Piastri, the scans show severe L4 and L5 fractures in your lower back. The fractures are unstable and are compressing the nerves in your spine. This is what's causing the numbness in your leg"
Oscar nodded along, unsure of how to react.
"You will need surgery to stabilise the fractures." The surgeon continued to reel off. "After that it will be an intense recovery for you to gain your normal function back."
"When will I be able to race again?" Oscar asked, speaking for the first time since the doctors had entered the room. Mark had remained by his side the whole time, and Oscar saw him stiffen out of the corner of his eye.
"I'm sorry, Mr Piastri. But you will never be able to race again."
The words hit Oscar like a tonne of bricks.
Racing is his entire life. Everything he's ever worked for. If he can't race, what is his purpose?
He barely listened as the doctor goes through the surgery with him, signing the consent form with barely a second glance. Everything felt far away, numb as he processes the idea of a life without racing.
A life not worth living, he thought as they push his bed down to the operating theatre. As they placed the mask over his face and pump him full of anesthesia, he thought it might be best if he doesn't wake up.
At least he'll be out of this nightmare.
*************************************************
Lando is sat by his bedside when he wakes up from surgery. He's curled up in the chair next to the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he hears Oscar stirring, locking his phone and dropping into his lap.
"Oscar." Lando spoke gently, placing his hand on Oscar's arm. His green eyes were full of worry, searching for signs of pain and distress in his teammate's face.
"Hey Lan." Oscar replied in a soft voice, raspy and weak from all the medication. They shared a smile and a look that spoke a thousand words. They didn't need to speak to communicate with each other.
Lando breaks the silence, bracing himself to ask the question. "How are you feeling?"
“About?" Oscar played dumb, even though he knew what Lando was asking.
"You know what, Osc." He replied, sympathetic look on his face. It just bordered on pity. He was asking how Oscar felt about not racing again. His career being over in one crash.
Oscar didn't reply at first. His face crumpled and gut wrenching sobs escaped him. Lando said nothing, his other hand grabbing Oscar's, comforting him the best he could without Oscar moving. They remained like that for sometime, Oscar's tears continuing to fall; Lando wiping them away gently.
Finally Oscar calmed enough to speak.
"They said I can't race again." The devastation in his voice felt like someone had punched Lando in the gut. It was awful seeing his teammate, the man he loved so heartbroken.
"I know." The words seemed like nothing compared but the enormity of the situation, but Lando had nothing else to offer.
"What am I supposed to do now, Lan? Everything's over."
"Just focus on getting better." Lando replied, placing a soft kiss to Oscar's forehead. Oscar smiled softly at the contact. The contact he'd craved since the accident. Lando was the only person Oscar wanted to be with right now.
This thing they had going on had no label, but it was the most important thing in his life besides racing. It had started with casual hookups on race weekends, then spending all their time together when they were in Monaco. Recently it had become something more, something deeper. The first ‘I love you’ being shared not even 3 weeks before all of this. Now everything has changed.
Lando’s heart had finally calmed to a normal rhythm after he had spent the last several hours in a state of panic. He had completed the race, by some miracle making it onto the podium for P3, but the whole time he had Oscar on his mind. The Mclaren team had thankfully managed to pull him from press, much to the disappointment of journalists wanting the latest scoop on Oscar’s condition. Lando didn’t even know anything until he got to the hospital and saw Mark. He knew it was bad when he saw the look in the ex-driver’s eye. He had seen the replays of the crash, he wouldn’t believe Oscar was still breathing until he saw him himself.
“How is he? Can I see him?”
Mark hesitated before answering. “After he gets out of surgery you can sit with him.”
“Surgery? What surgery? What’s wrong with him?”
“Lando, the crash broke Oscar’s spine. They’re repairing it now but he may never walk again, let alone race.”
Lando felt like he was still processing that moment as he watched Oscar drift back into sleep. If his head was a mess he couldn’t even imagine what Oscar was feeling. He seemed so small and fragile laid in the hospital bed. He was pale, with oxygen prongs nestled in his nostrils. The gravity of the crash hit Lando as he stroked Oscar’s hair. Their lives would be completely different now, but they would get through it. Lando would help Oscar get through this - because he loved him. He was never letting him go.