Crash

I won't love you any less

"Charles," Penelope grumbled as he pushed her along the tarmac in the hospital wheelchair he'd managed to steal before they'd left. "I can walk, you know."

"I know," he said, clearly in good spirits. "But come on. This is fun, isn't it?" 

With a mischievous smile, he tipped the chair slightly, letting go of the handles as it rolled down the sloped surface. Penelope squealed as she gripped the arm rests, hoping she didn't crash before Charles chased after her and slowed the chair down. Trust Charles to treat her wheelchair as some form of go-kart for him to play with. 

"You're such a dickhead!" she laughed, giving his arm a playful tap. "You almost pushed me into the wall."

"As if I'd do that," he teased, giving the chair another little tip as Penelope squealed. "Never."

Penelope decided she'd had enough, getting to her feet and ruining her boyfriend's fun. She made it two steps before the world started spinning, her vision blurring as she stumbled, incredibly unsteady on her feet. Instantly, Charles caught her, his arms strong as he steadied her.

"Woah! I got you," he told her, gently lowering her back into the chair, leaning in so that he could kiss her cheek. "You okay?"

"Just need a minute..." she gasped, still feeling like she might faint any second. "World still...spinning."

"It's okay," Charles said, taking off his jacket and laying it over her shoulders. Before they'd left the hospital, Jane had delivered him a change of clothes, which meant he was finally out of his race suit. It made Penelope feel a little more normal, like they were finally starting to move on from what had been a pretty traumatic weekend. "I'll push, you sit. I've got you."

"I hate this," Penelope grumbled, crossing her arms in annoyance. "I hate being a burden."

"You're never a burden," Charles said earnestly. 

"I can't even walk. That's like the definition of a burden."

"Well, not to me. This week, I do whatever you need me to do."

"It's your home race this week, Charles."

"Exactly. That means I'll be home, so you won't be alone. No travelling either, and absolutely no work for you."

"Oh, come on," Penelope groaned. "Not this again. I told you, I'll take it easy, but I have to run through the script pile that Li sent over before next weekend or-"

"You heard what the doctor said. No work and no stress until the end of the week. You have to rest so that you can get better."

"I will, but-"

Charles stopped the chair, breaking so hard that Penelope almost tipped out. He span her so she was facing him, his expression serious. "No. You have to look after yourself from now on, Penelope. You promised me. I can't do this again. I have to know that I'm not...that I'm not going to lose you."

For a moment, Penelope was shocked into silence. She could feel the genuine panic behind his words, how much this weekend had scared him. Even though she wasn't meant to, she'd looked at the pictures taken by the press when she'd collapsed at the paddock. She'd seen the complete and utter terror that he'd felt, and it was awful. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never seen him look that afraid, and it was all her fault. The least she could do was follow the doctor's orders, the same way that she'd want him to if the roles were reversed. 

"Okay," she said softly. "I'm sorry Charlie."

Charles breathed a sigh of relief, leaning in to kiss her. "I don't know the words, but thank you."