Chapter Text
It's a terrible cliché that Max would hate, if he had the chance, but the last he remembers before the impact is the pungent smell of burnt tires and gasoline. And then only pain.
He’s waiting for the familiar darkness that saves him from acute unbearable pain, waiting for his body to give up and his consciousness to slip away, but for some reason the darkness doesn’t come. Instead, he feels through the pain a soft touch on his shoulder and gentle hands carefully lifting him out of the cockpit with such ease as if he weighed nothing, as if his body was not wrapped in safety belts and tightly clamped by twisted metal.
Through the ringing in his ears comes a voice telling him:
«Come on, Maxy».
His vision is still focusing with difficulty, but in the whitish haze, he still distinguishes a person: with dark skin and soft curls, warm brown eyes and some kind of sad smile on plump lips. He's wearing a purple loose T-shirt, not a bright orange marshal jumpsuit, and Max frowns, instinctively pushing back.
“N-no, who are you? I'm not going anywhere…”
“I’m afraid, Maxy, we'll have to do it anyway.” The man pulls him into his arms, easily overcoming Max's resistance, as if it didn’t exist at all, which only makes him break out of the grip even more.
“Who the fuck are you?!” His movements are a little confused and weak, he still feels concussion after the accident, but that doesn't stop him from trying to fight off the man's hands on his shoulders.
“God, Max, do you always make things so complicated?” The man rolls his eyes, but there's still a smile on his face, as if he finds it all charming. “I’m Lewis, happy? Now let's go.”
“I'm not fucking happy, who you are at all, where are you taking me…” Max feels like he's starting to run out of breath: his strength is leaving him by the second, and he even has difficulty moving his tongue to continue to argue with ma... with Lewis. Whoever he is. “The race isn’t over yet, I can't just walk away, I have to continue…”
“It's already over for you, Maxy.” Lewis shakes some dirt off his shoulder that Max doesn't even see, his palm lingers at the base of Max's neck, giving off a pleasant soothing warmth even through the racing suit. “I... we’re going to the hospital, okay? You need to be checked after the accident, and the marshals will drag your car away for now. Let's go.”
“Well, no…” He’s almost hanging onto Lewis, clinging to his waist as tightly as he can, just to not let go of him. “If you're dragging me to the hospital, we should go by car.… I don’t want to walk there.” Max is not ready to admit for anything that he is sulking at the thought of going to the infirmary with his own feet, but Lewis notices it anyway–and laughs at his almost childish discontent.
“You know what,” Lewis smiles at him sunny, there is a small gap between his front teeth, which suddenly attracts Max's attention, before he realizes, blushing, he's looking at his moist soft lips a second later. “I like you.”
“Thanks?” Max frowns, not sure if it's really a compliment, and Lewis giggles again.
“ Don't thank me, Maxy. You’re right. You need to continue the race.” Lewis kisses him on the forehead with a soft smile and suddenly he pushes so hard that Max rolls over on his back, painfully hitting the back of his head on the asphalt surface of the racetrack, stinking of spilled gasoline and burnt rubber.
The last he remembers before the long–awaited darkness is Lewis' smiling face.
**
He wakes up to the slow beeping of heart monitors and the quiet hum of electricity in working appliances. Max hasn’t been here often, fortunately, but still waking up in a hospital room isn’t particularly new to him. The light in the room is dimmed so as not to hurt the eyes that are sensitive after waking up, but even so, Max feels like his head is practically splitting. He moans softly, closing his eyes again, and suddenly someone grabs his hand.
“Max, do you hear me?” It seems to be Sebastian, his voice. Max makes a small sound and squeezes his hand in hers to let him know that he hears.
“Dan and Charles went to get us all coffee.” Seb chuckles softly, not letting go of his hand. “And Lando and Pierre will be back soon, too. They'll be glad to know that you're finally awake. How are you feeling?”
“Lousy. But I’ll live.” Max mumbles with difficulty.
“Good to hear it. I'm going to call a doctor.” Sebastian gently pats Max on the shoulder.
“Wait.” Max sighs and opens his eyes through the force, looking at Sebastian. For some reason, he looks different, as if his beard has become a little longer and more messy, and there are heavy bags under his eyes, reflecting fatigue. “How long have I been here?”
“It's been... it's been a few weeks, Maxy.” Seb doesn't look away, sighing heavily. “They diagnosed death when they took your body out of the cockpit. We all thought you were dead.”
“Then why am I still here?” Max frowns, barely keeping himself from falling asleep again.
“They made your heart work. They did emergency resuscitation, literally brought you back from the other world. The medics on the track performed a real miracle, thanks to them, you are still with us.” He walks out of the room, leaving him alone, thinking that Max will pass out now, but there is not a drop of sleep left in him.
He feels his fingers getting cold as the realization comes.
Max is almost sure that the doctors are not involved in the fact that death refused him.