I'm Sorry

Cartwheeling Into Despair

A/N So I'm not the best of writers but I have noticed the lack of GT fanfics and the dessert that is GT angst, like seriously, wheres all the common triggers gone to?

T/W Car crash, injury, self blame, near death, major injury (if there's any more to list just let me know)

Tightly grasping the wheel, knuckles white, face pale, eyes wide with anguish as he felt the wheels spin out. A momentary look of fear was displaced by a face of acceptance as his grip loosened and gaze wandered, searching the scene speeding past his windscreen in a blur. Jezz and May would be out there; he was the only one on the track this afternoon so they'd be watching, listening in horror to the sickening screech of tires slipping on the rain wet track before the car skidded off the edge.

Time did not stand still. Aggressively he was thrown about as the vehicle spun, flipped and crashed down the bank. His trembling hands left the wheel and wrapped about himself as he faced the consequence of his stubbornness:

"You can't race the track in weather like this Hammond! Not with driving luck like yours anyway!" Jeremy points half-heartedly at his friend.

"Oh very funny, Jezz! It's England, we drive in weather like this all the time and if we don't man up and get on with it we're never gonna get anything accomplished"

"Do what you like Hammond, it's your choice in the end" James sighs from the table over a cup of half drunken, steaming tea.

"I was only poking a bit of fun Richard, I want to see how that beast runs just as much as you, just make sure to take the 2nd corner wide so that I can have a good view when you drift around the corner" Jeremy claps him on the shoulder "And off the edge" he chuckles after.

He hoped Jezz had had his good view, taking the corner wide he had recoiled in shock as he realised he was playing those words out, straight from under him the tires had slid, and right over the edge they had fell. Fell for such a horrendous time, to fall into a crumpled burning heap at the bottom of the hill. The rain didn't quench the flames, taunting him as it sounded against the mutilated metal, each drop pounding in his head as the heat seared each side of him and his tragic cries went unheard.

Inside his friends were in shock, they knew not what had happened, what to do, if their small friend was ok. With one shared look they both raised from their seats, as if from outside their bodies running down to the wreckage. They didn't falter through the sheets of rain, not at the burning in their throats and legs, only stopping when they reached the top of the rise.

Where was he? Hammond normally climbed out by now if he were capable. In panic Jeremy slid down the mudslide, standing by the blazing bonfire.

"Hammond?" he called. He got no answer, but he could see through the smashed windscreen his friend in the driver seat, head back and eyes closed. His breath hitched in fear for him.

"Hold on matey," he whispered, the medics wouldn't come quickly enough, he had to get him out himself, but as the flames finally began to cease flickering he could make it to the crumpled driver's side of the vehicle. Being on its side, revealed a whole new world of hardship and terror, there was no turning the car so he clambered atop and opened the barley existent passenger door.

The heat was stifling, even with most of the flames gone, even so he reached in, unclipping the belt and pulling his friend as gently as he could out the car. It was no easy work, even being light as he was, and that in itself was quite alarming, there was the awkward task of heaving him across the car and into his arms. Eventually though, with much tremulous effort he managed it, pulling his Hamster close to his chest and carrying him up the bank.

James was talking on the phone, presumably to the medics, as he sat on the muddy ground and clutched his friend close. Just as he was seated, he jumped to a start as a bang was heard from below and he looked with a shudder to see that the engine had blown and the whole car was ablaze once more.

"Lucky we missed that one, ay Hamster" Jeremy spoke without response. It was then that he kicked himself for not checking his friend over earlier. Turning to study his face he was aghast to see the skin ghostly pale and blood oozing down the side of his cheek. The rain stuck his hair to his forehead, ebony black contrasting highly against the paper white of his features, and as his fingers came up to brush it away, he felt like ice beneath his hand and for a heart stopping moment he thought he was dead.

It was only the shallow breaths that lingered on his neck as he bent his head in to listen for them, that reassured him he hadn't lost Hammond, not this time. With a sigh that was not quite of relief he shed his own jacket to place over the shivering frame, readjusting his position and pulling the pale face close to his chest.

"Stay with me Rich, don't leave me now," he whispered placently into his soaked hair.

"The medics are on their way," a voice startled him, speaking from behind, an underlying tone of worry lacing his voice. He didn't reply but a sharp gasp made him turn his head. James's eyes were wide and staring intently at the slight body in his arms.

"Oh Hammond!" He muttered, kneeling beside Jeremy and moving his jacket to the side to reveal the ripped section of Hammond's coat. Jeremys breath caught in his throat, glass from the driver's window pierced his arm, wedged into the skin and leaving a river of blood behind. But that wasn't the worst of it, the left side of his stomach, too hollow in itself to be healthy, was burnt up to his ribcage, revealing a gruesome sight of muscle and even bone. The men found themselves sickened to their hearts, trying not to gag at the wretched, distressing sight.

The sound of sirens brought to them a dreamlike state of movement, medics were quick to take over James's inspection, talking all the time, questions about what had happened, how long Richard had been out, if he was allergic to any drugs, Jeremy couldn't answer any of them, holding his friend close, not caring that he was drenched by the rain, or that his clothes were stained with Hammonds blood.

There came the time they had to move him from his lap, with much reluctance and an unexpected whine from the subject at question, he handed over the injured man. Following in dazed secularity at the event around him, he never left his friends side, feeling at fault for his accident and wanting to protect him at all costs. When it came to the ambulance no one suggested he stayed behind, the medics looked upon him with an unwanted pity as they let him aboard to accompany them.

With a shared look with James who waved an aggrieved goodbye, and a last glance at the wreckage of the demonised incident, the door closed and they were off with blaring sirens. Silence filled the back, a single doctor keeping an eye on his patient's heart rate, Hammond strewn on the stretcher, still barley clinging to life and Jeremy just watching, mollified into a solemn silence as he gazed with despair at the almost lifeless form before him. If only he had stopped him going on the track at all!