Chapter Text
The FIA representative's words felt like a hammer driving a nail home.
Your upgraded floor is in violation. It's whether the parts you're racing with were developed outside of your facility.
Sonny gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles ached. All around him, he could feel the rumble of the engine and the car, the crowd roaring, blood rushing through his ears.
Yet it felt like the entire universe was making a cosmic joke out of his life.
Finally—FINALLY—when he starts to trust and open up, become a part of the team at APXGP—his team—and they were going places—
All the good they’ve done—BOOM!
Gone. Ripped away, vaporized in an instant.
You cannot race unless you substitute the previously approved components.
It hurt so much, almost more than it did thirty years ago.
Back then, the damage had stopped with him.
Guilt gnawed at Sonny as he replayed Ruben’s reaction at the garage hours earlier.
Where were you the last two years? Why now? Because we might actually win a race? Is that it?
He remembered grabbing Ruben, felt the tension in his shoulders as he held him back.
This is not car racing, sir, this is like corporate espionage!
Sonny didn't mean for this to happen. He swore he didn't. He only wanted to give Ruben’s team the unfair advantage he knew, deep down, they were capable of—fighting closer in those tight corners, chasing through the dirty air.
He saw Kate's face after Zandvoort. How elated and proud she was. How the team's spirits lifted as they gained points with each race since the upgrade.
It hurt so much he could barely breathe.
Now everyone at APX was going to go down because of him.
Could he live with that?
He half-listened to the team on the radio as his arms shook, enraged.
Maybe he didn’t deserve good things after all. He was always the cause of the problem. Always.
JP’s voice cut through the noise.
"Yeah, the rules are always against us though, aren’t they?”
Then he heard it. A little voice in his head returned. It wasn’t loud—it didn’t need to be to cut through all the noise.
No, the rules are always against YOU.
Sonny's entire body locked up. It’d been years since its last appearance, but it was unmistakable.
Hugh’s voice came through the comms. “Sonny, we just need to keep it in one piece. Okay?”
He felt an invisible force slither around from behind him. The tips of its claws brushing against his face.
What were you doing here in the first place, Sonny?
He shifted his body forward in the seat, trying to shake it off him. The cockpit suddenly felt too small, too claustrophobic. His hands patted his right thigh, searching for the card. Yes, if he felt it, it would anchor him. He did all his other rituals. This would make the voice go away. It had to—
His stomach dropped. The card wasn’t there.
Sonny flinched at the sharp claws digging into his face, suddenly forcing his head up. The voice returned, but it was much younger, almost childlike.
You're the reason Dad is gone.
Up ahead, the red lights blinked on, one by one.
Sonny tried to even his breathing, but his body wouldn't listen. Panic rose across his chest.
When the voice spoke again, it was more adolescent and hollow.
And look at what you did to Mom.
Heat prickled in Sonny's eyes.
Everything around him faded away. It felt like he was inside a soundproof bubble. And inside was only him and the monster.
The five red lights blinked off. Sonny felt his foot gun down on the pedal.
His car shot forward, cutting through the other drivers at Turns One and Two. Several cars collided into one another. Then he shot past JP. Sonny didn't see him.
He tried to pry his gloved fingers off the steering wheel, but it was glued to the carbon fiber shell. As he turned the car sharply at Turn Five, Sonny tried again, but his body didn't respond.
He was sitting inside his own body, unable to control it. Anger and shame surged through him. How could he be this weak? This useless?
That's right.
He was a nobody.
A never was.
Ruben came back for him, to give him another chance. And look at how much Sonny was ruining him. Just like he told his friend all those years ago.
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 were locked. His lungs seized with the terror of what he knew was about to happen.
The monster dug its claws in deeper. He had to get away. The speed had to be faster.
He wanted it to stop.
Sonny felt the grip on his arms loosen just enough to turn the dial into Qualifying mode, locking back into place on the wheel.
You failed! JP's voice yelled at him.
His face contorted in pain as all three voices raged in his head, roaring.
THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!
The car zipped across the circuit, hitting 210 miles per hour. Sonny's car inched closer to the Red Bull in front of him.
Do you want this to stop?
The voices taunted him. Sonny couldn't breathe.
Please. He begged.
The voices sighed contently. Then you know what to do.
Images flashed across his mind—Ruben, Kate, JP. Everyone he had come to care for at APXGP, and dared to call his family.
I’m sorry. He said to himself, loosening his grip on the wheel a fraction. Sonny watched it turn on its own, heading off course.
Just as his car attacked from the outside, Sonny tiredly whispered to no one and everyone, 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. Debris exploded everywhere.
“No! No!” Ruben ripped off his headphones, bolting from the garage toward the track.
Joshua slowed just far enough past what was left of Sonny’s car, his eyes wide as he tried to measure the damage. He didn’t realize he was speaking into the radio, his voice broadcasting on live television. The rookie scrambled out, disconnecting his comms.
He sprinted toward the wreck. The halo was dented in, trapping Sonny inside. There was no way to drag him out—not like Monza, when Sonny had pulled Joshua from his car and saved him.
Joshua didn’t know what to do, so he grabbed Sonny’s hand, squeezing it tight. Blood streaked from beneath the helmet, red dots splattered across the inside of the visor.
Sirens wailed in the distance, closing in fast.
A sob tore through Joshua. “Old man! Don’t you dare die on me!”
He begged Sonny’s unconscious form to stay awake, that help was coming.
Finally, the medics swarmed in. Joshua fought the one pulling him back from the wreckage, thrashing, screaming Sonny’s name. Another grabbed him from the other side, hauling him back.
Suddenly, familiar voices cut through the chaos, and another set of arms held him down.
Ruben yelled at him to stop.
Joshua stumbled back, relenting. He watched as the doctor leaned into the cockpit. He couldn’t hear what she said, but the other medics moved into action.
They sliced through the carbon fiber with heavy-duty saws, cutting the halo’s hoop near the rear mounts, then attacking the base of the front pillar. They cut the safety belts, pried Sonny free, and carefully placed his limp form onto the stretcher.
When they removed his helmet, blood speckled the asphalt.
Joshua watched the doctor press two fingers to Sonny’s neck.
She shook her head.
There wasn’t one.
At the pit wall, Kate gripped the metal fence, knees buckling, as she—and the rest of the world—helplessly watched the medics fight to bring Sonny Hayes back to life.