tsbikersau

[tsbikersau]

Chapter 8

The days tended to blur together in the moments between one race being done and the preparations for the next one not needing to start yet. Yes, it tended to be busy, it always was, but the atmosphere was significantly less rushed and tense, a clear invitation for Roman to be his usual self, chatting animatedly with Patton, getting his whole body into it with his wide gesturing. Either that or he would pester Virgil some, not enough to get him properly angry – though Logan couldn’t be sure if that was a conscious decision on his part or if he had developed a certain sensitivity to feel when enough is enough – that is to say, on the good days when he wasn’t deliberately trying to get on his nerves. Which wasn’t many.

Logan was looking through the window in his office that was going out on the garage. There was this strange pulling in his chest when his eyes were on Roman. He knew his emotions were being ridiculous, however he could do nothing about them. They were the aftermath of witnessing a dangerous situation, nothing more, there was nothing unusual with caring about your friends. There was, though, a significant amount of discomfort those emotions were causing him, especially whenever he watched Roman acting just a little too cavalier while on his bike.

He knew he was being unreasonable. Roman was an experienced professional, who had more control over his own body and the machine than he let show, in every movement that seemed to be careless or indignant there was a level of control only certain knowledge and understanding could provide.

But he still was Roman. Competing could get into his head, the adrenaline dulling his common sense, determination causing tunnel vision. He’s seen it before and he’s sure to see it again, and that thought made his insides twist, metaphorically.

He’s worried.

He’s being preposterous.

But as much as he could hold most of his thoughts at bay, some of them slipped past his grip, and those seemed to be the images of Roman surrounded by debris.

*

“So, boss, what about that ride?”

Roman came up to his desk at the end of the shift, his jacket on and the helmet rested against his leg in the most relaxed way a biker can hold his gear. Everybody was almost ready to leave, only Logan didn’t look like he was going anywhere. He was usually the last one out, frequently also the first one in, even though they carpooled in the morning.

(“Patton, you are being ridiculous, use your keys and leave me to take the boxes in”, “No can do, Logan, I’m just a mechanic here” Patton would answer with a cheeky grin and a shrug, making a bigger fuss than was necessary out of a simple opening up of one door, not even the shop itself).

“I have paperwork to finish, Roman,” he replied, not lifting his head up from said paperwork after that quick glance that told him who was entering. “And I will not let you show off while I’m on your motorcycle.”

“And if I promise to drive safe and within the speed limit?”

“I do not put trust in you to keep that promise,” Logan said dryly, though there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked up from the corner of his eye as Roman gasped, putting his free hand to his chest in mock offence.

“Rude!”

“And yet you don’t deny it.” Logan chuckled quietly. He must have been more tired than he expected if it was that easy to get a laugh out of him.

Maybe it really was a good time to start getting ready to leave. His effectiveness has probably lowered enough for the work to take longer than it should; the quickest way to get frustrated and get even less done than if he left it to the oncoming day.

There were the expected shouts of goodbyes in the background, Patton asking him not to work too late, and the sound of the big garage doors starting to roll down – as long as it was summer, they were trying to keep them open as long as they could, letting in the fresh air and some sun. Logan looked up from his paperwork and startled, not expecting to see Roman still standing in his doorway, absentmindedly playing with the zipper of his opened jacket. The satisfied smirk that appeared on his face when he saw his boss jump only caused Logan to frown.

This is ridiculous.

When it was clear that Roman had no plans of moving, not even to properly enter the office and sit in a chair to keep pestering him, Logan sighed. The biker crossed his arms over his chest and slouched into the doorframe a bit more, completely at ease, as if there wasn’t just silence and Logan’s exasperated looks between them.

The knowledge of a figure in the entryway, looking at him even without any proper intention to come off as intense watching still made it almost impossible to focus. Roman knew how to press his buttons to get what he wanted, and he was persistent. He was kind enough not to use that knowledge often, but when he was set on convincing Logan to do something (“it’s for your own good, boss!”) there was a big chance of success.

After a few more minutes and the third attempt at reading the document before him, Logan sighed and brought his elbows on the desk to rest his face in his palms. He heard light ruffle of clothes and he sighed, finally giving in, lifting his head and sending Roman a reluctantly defeated look, one that made him smile in a way that Logan has never seen him smile with the others. Satisfaction, yes, but also gentle fondness in the corners of his eyes.

Just one beat, his heart could skip it if it wanted. Just one.

“You are incorrigible.” Logan put the file into one of the labelled desk drawers before standing up and starting to do his final checks before he leaves. The computer was off, the blinds were drawn aside from the garage-facing window which he turned to next. The sound was strangely loud in the easy quiet, it almost made Logan scrunch his face in displeasure. Maybe he should change those? Maybe to some that wouldn’t be so noisy.

“Shall we?” He turned to Roman, motioning for him to get out of the entrance, to which he complied with an exaggerated bow. It was such a weird thing to do, and yet it was the most natural reaction Logan could get from him.

After locking the office for the night, checking if the front was locked as well, and turning back to get out by the garage exit after shutting the last light left on just to make sure no one would stumble in the dark when leaving last, Logan locked the final door and turned to see Roman already straddling his bike, the visor on his helmet pushed up to let him look at his phone.

When the biker heard the door being tried just to make sure they’re closed, he looked up.

“Ready, Specs?” He asked, pocketing his phone and extending a hand with the second helmet that he put in front of him when he was waiting towards Logan once he got close enough to grab it. Roman moved more to the front where the space wasn’t occupied by the piece of protective gear while Logan was making sure that the straps were not too loose under his chin.

“Not in the slightest, but it seems that I am out of my mind today, so I could as well be,” he joked slightly though a straight face, looking to the side of the bike. “No handles?” His voice was all neutral while his mind started to ring the alarm bells. Not good.

“Nope, not on this bike.” Roman didn’t give any more explanation, and Logan’s head was too preoccupied to find one on his own. He was working with bikes on a daily basis, for crying out loud, he should not be drawing a blank. “Hop on, boss, I said I would promise not to go crazy on you.”

He was too deep in it now, wasn’t he? No way to back out, helmet already on his head, it would be extremely unreasonable and awkward to run, no matter how much he wanted to. So, with an internal sigh, he moved to sit behind Roman, keeping his hands to himself as much as he knew that it was just delaying the inevitable. He didn’t really want the inevitable to happen, something in his gut stirred uncomfortably on the thought of being this close to someone for something that is not just a quick hug. He took in a deep breath to calm the conflicting emotions that were trying to escape his grip.

To no avail, as Roman grabbing his arms to loop them around his middle made his control almost slip; he just barely managed to quiet his mind enough not to do or say something unlike himself. Is this how Virgil felt like most of the time? Constantly battling with his mind?

“I don’t bite.” Roman adjusted his arms like he wanted, even though Logan still didn’t put any strength into the hold. “Unless you ask me to.” Logan rolled his eyes at the comment, the smirk in Roman’s voice way too evident to go unnoticed even by him. Logan guessed he had it coming, acting like a frail damsel, like a fool. Serves him right to be on the receiving end of one of Roman’s flirtatious lines.

For some reason, though, the exasperation helped him relax, helped him get hold of himself. It was just Roman, they were good friends despite the arguments and disagreements, and stupid risks. And this was just a ride, nothing more to it.

The engine revved to life, and the bike surged forward all of the sudden, making Logan instinctively tighten his hold as an indignant shout left his mouth without permission. He could hear (and feel; not thinking about it) Roman laugh heartily as he started to move more smoothly, calmly directing the machine out of the parking space.

“Roman!” Logan admonished him with as much hurt pride in his voice as he allowed himself.

He only laughed at that some more. “Sorry, boss, but you didn’t actually make me promise anything.”

Logan just huffed at that, but when he tried to loosen his arms just a bit Roman surged again, successfully eradicating the little bits of trust Logan had in him. He was trying not to think how much that wasn’t true, how just the fact that he sat on the bike behind him and let him have total control showed the amount of trust he had in him, one Logan didn’t even consider to be that vast. He was trying not to think about the cars passing them and the cars they passed, even though Roman did keep his not-promise of driving safely. He was trying not to think about the movement he felt under his hands whenever they were making a turn, and he definitely tried to not think about the fact that he will probably miss this experience once it’s over.

Maybe it won’t have to be a one-time experience?

-------------------

Masterpost --- Next Chapter >>

[tsbikersau]

A small change of plans - it turns out I have already written a quite nice chunck of chapter 8 and I actually like it, so that's gonna be normal, and as for the rest - we'll see. So sorry for the big mess that I am right now

[tsbikersau]

It's me, ya boy

Just here to give you a heads up that at this moment, I realised there's no way I'm gonna finish this in a timely manner with the breaks in between when I straight up forget this fic exists (I'm so sorry for that).

So, not to leave you in the middle of things, the next thing posted will be a bit different. I'll try to tie all the main plotlines with a bullet fic, because it hit me that the change of form may be what I need to finish it off. Maybe one day I'll come back to it, maybe not, probably not, but you deserve some kind of epilogue.

Thank you all for being here with me, for reading and all the comments, be it in reblogs or comments or the tags (believe me, they always gave me so much serotonin).

After this exam session is over I'll get to work this one (last) time. Take care!

[tsbikersau]

I know I should be working on the next chapter for this au but all of a sudden the inspiration brought me down the path of a roceit one shot without me even meaning to write anything for the fandom again

[tsbikersau]

Hello, do you know how to recognise when the term has started? Suddenly you realise the month is almost over when it barely just began.

Hope you're doing well, this is just a check-in from me to let you know I'm not dead and this is not abandoned, you know, the usual with me. Thank you for your patience!

[tsbikersau]

Omg dude how MANY aus do you have??? How do manage to make every one and each of them so good?????? Infinity equals to your motivation to draw and to make lore??????????? Whaaaaat?????????,,,??????

Well, to be clear: in this case the one writing and the one making the art are not the same person, the au started as a shared project. Hi, the writer here!

We did start out by brainstorming the basics for the au together but aside from that, all the lore you see here comes from me. I was generously given the complete rule over this au and, as I'm frequently reminded when the topic comes up, it is now "mine" - so I'm glad you like the story!

If you'd like to read some more of my writing, here are a few one shots for Sanders Sides I wrote from people's prompts. I'll also be adding them to the masterpost in a bit, it just never crossed my mind to do that before.

Anyway, thank you for the ask! Hope you have a nice day/evening/night!

[tsbikersau]

The boys in their full get-up

[tsbikersau]

Since the "big reveal" has already been done in the most recent chapter, I'll tell you guys there's a little something something that's gonna be posted next, and I think there's a chance of you quite liking it

[tsbikersau]

Chapter 7

It took only a few more days for the new-yet-familiar face to show up at the garage, alongside the roar of a powerful engine and a slight annoyed thought from Virgil who really didn’t like it when someone decided to rev it right behind the door. Yes, he used to be a racer himself and heard the sound up close and personal more times than enough, but that didn’t matter, it was still annoying.

He heard the door open, followed by voices too muffled by the two walls that separated him from them to really decipher anything, aside from the fact that one had the characteristic Logan intonation – he was probably greeting the newcomer if he happened to be in front for once, and not huddled in his office – and one that sounded awfully silky even through the distortion of the walls. It sparked the smallest light of recognition in Virgil’s brain, but still not large enough to give him a clear idea of recognition. He knew he’s heard this voice before, though.

When he finally found the part he needed, just slightly delayed by his simultaneous search through his memory (futile), he could finally emerge and see who was the cause of the sudden stir in the garage.

The moment he lay his eyes on the newcomer, his mind blanked. The small crack that resounded far too loudly in the busy space told him that his arms refused to hold onto the part he just brought in, but he didn’t even have the brain capacity to worry about it not being damaged.

All eyes turned to him. He didn’t have enough time to notice that.

*

There was the rush of air all around him, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

This is what he was meant to be doing, this is it. He was free, he was where he should be. This was what he was meant to do, and he was actually good at it.

Finally something he was truly good at.

He blinked once.

The track in front of him was clear, it was the last lap, he could do it, he…

Everything was suddenly toppling over, the whole world blurring in a completely different way, gravity pulling him down differently that it should have.

He felt himself flail the handles, intuitively trying all he could to keep his balance.

The adrenaline turned to dread in a matter of a second.

His ears were pierced with the sharp scratching sound, with the sound of metal crashing on the track.

What happened? (a split second thought).

The pain. His side, his arm, his head – it felt like everything hurt at once.

His eyes, full of colourful specs mixed with the dark.

Was he dying?

He was dying.

He was being shaken and spoken to, but he couldn’t understand a word. In between the fireworks he saw there was a pair of yellow boots.

Funny what you focus on while dying, a helpful part of his brain supplied.

He was being turned over, slowly.

It hurt. Did it hurt?

He felt like everything was nothing but pain but at the same time all was getting number and number.

His eyelids were staying closed for longer and longer.

Why did dying take so long?

He was being hoisted up. Stretches?

How much longer?

Somehow his eyelids opened for one additional second when he thought there was no use - something was urging him to do so. A voice?

A pair of brown eyes in a partially-scarred face.

The world turned to black.

Finally.

*

It didn’t surprise Virgil to come to and find himself sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall, with a familiar face of a calm Logan in front of him but leaving some distance. Looking a bit to the side there was Patton, crouched just next to their boss, Roman was nowhere to be seen but as his hearing slowly tuned in to the real world again he could hear him tapping his heavy boot and talking with someone else, although he was still too disoriented to decipher the words.

“Are you with us now, Virgil?” Logan was using his calming-someone-down voice, not too different from his normal calm one, but with easily noticeable gentleness in it. Virgil always appreciated it, really much so actually. There was something reassuring in not being talked to as if he was a baby. He nodded, not yet feeling like he could speak; he was becoming to feel exhaustion seeping in. “Virgil, can we touch you?”

He nodded slightly, and then there was a hand briefly squeezing his forearm with another ‘you are safe, you are okay’ before Logan stood up and his field of vision was taken up by Patton, whose warm hand landed on his shoulder, the other taking the place of Logan’s on his forearm; a warm weight to compliment the worried smile his co-mechanic gave him.

“Do you feel like you could stand up in a bit, kiddo? You would be more comfortable in Logan’s office.” Patton spoke gently as well, not that much different from his usual self. Virgil appreciated that as well, not being treated like an egg that just cracked and could not survive another blow was more helpful for him than people could realise.

“Gimme a sec,” he responded quietly, wiping his face as he realised that at some point some tears must have slipped. He never understood when that happened, it’s not like he was crying in his memory, but it did happen sometimes when it was coming back.

“Okay, champ, I’ll quickly hop to check if there is no loose paperwork on the chair – you know how Logan can get with it sometimes – and I’ll be right back, will you be okay?”

“Yes, Patton, I’m fine now,” more or less, he didn’t add aloud, a small part of his mind was still stuck somewhere, making him feel just the littlest bit disoriented still, like if there was a half a second delay between his mind and the world.

He put his head onto his knees, bringing his arms to shelter it for a bit. The garage was quiet, with everyone otherwise occupied with anything but the machines they were working on, but Virgil was telling himself very hard that it wasn’t his fault, that everything will be done on time, that even if not nobody would blame him for the delay – all the affirmations the whole crew made sure he was well acquainted with after the several times they had to-

­No, they didn’t “have to” do anything, you moron, they do this willingly. Logan didn’t fire you even after the third time this happened, not after any other time, and everything was always okay. If they didn’t want you they’d just leave. Not like people had a problem with leaving in the past.

His thoughts were interrupted when the steps he heard getting closer to him didn’t ring a bell in his mind, they were longer and quieter than any of the working shoes in the garage was capable of being. They stopped a bit away, and then there was the shuffle of clothes as the person crouched. Virgil lifted his head, coming face-to-face with the same face from his memory, just in more focus and this time more prepared.

“I didn’t expect my presence to have such awful consequences, I apologise,” the stranger said in that silky voice; it gave Virgil chills for some reason, and he wasn’t sure how to interpret them, they weren’t the purely good kind of chills.

He was looking at the stranger, who must have sensed – or seen – his tension.

“Not your fault,” Virgil said, and he really meant it. There was no reason for his reaction aside from it being influenced by pure shock and lack of preparation. And besides, it seemed like the man was connected to his accident just because he wanted to help him. He didn’t even remember him until he saw him standing there, casually conversing with Roman, black-yellow jacket unzipped and his helmet under his arm, as if to look more dramatic.

Weird how many details one can notice in the few seconds before a flashback.

“Well,” the man stood up, extending a hand to him, but as much as Virgil appreciated the gesture, he was not ready for it. The man didn’t look offended by him not accepting it, though, when he retracted the hand to brush off some non-existent dust off his jacket, “I’m afraid I must be leaving. It was a pleasure to meet you all.” He looked around, nodding towards the other people standing around the room, all carefully watching the exchange take place.

There was a chorus of goodbyes and a see-you-soon from Patton, who always liked to make new friends. The engine was revved once again, this time not feeling as ostentatious (don’t ask Virgil how, it just didn’t).

Not long after the guest left, Virgil was approached by Roman and carefully helped to his feet. When he was safely in Logan’s office and everyone else was standing or sitting on some kind of a surface (Logan just sighed when Patton took his usual spot at the edge of his desk and started to dangle his legs, as if the boss didn’t make sure that part of the desk was always empty in case that happened) for a makeshift break, the question finally fell.

“Would you like to tell us what happened there, Mr Brood?” Roman asked with the mug of tea right next to his lips, taking a sip just after he spoke.

Virgil sighed.

“You know what happened,” there was meant to be some snark in his reply, but it came out just tired, so he just continued. “He was there when the accident happened. I guess he was trying to help,” he shrugged. It felt nice to be holding a hot cup and see your hands shake less than a few minutes prior, the warmth being a good distraction even though he’s told them the whole story before and felt like he didn’t need a distraction to form his words anymore. “I just didn’t remember him until I saw him just now, and it must have been too big of a shock. Sorry.”

“No need to apologise, kiddo! You know it’s okay!” Patton always looked ready to throw hands whenever anyone he cared about sounded like they were even remotely bringing themselves down.

Virgil smiled.

“Yes, thank you, Pat.” There was a brief silence between them, Virgil taking a sip of his tea. Chamomile. Did Logan really like it or did he kept it just in case something stressful like this happened? “So… Why was he even here?” Virgil wondered aloud, knowing someone will explain.

Roman hummed, in the middle of taking another sip, signalling he’ll answer.

“Well, I was the one who tried to help him while the paramedics were busy with others during the last accident. I didn’t have any mind to even check his name afterwards, didn’t really think anything about it aside from, you know, ‘I hope he’ll be fine’, but apparently he didn’t want to feel like he was in my debt so he came in to thank me.”

Weird, Virgil thought. But all the same, who was he to judge?

At least the guy didn’t make fun of him. He seemed just as composed as everyone that witnessed the episode, and he even wanted to help Virgil up. It was hard to pinpoint why thinking about it made Virgil simultaneously somehow content and a little unsure, a little uneasy. He decided not to dwell on that for now.

“Did he tell you his name?” he asked instead, not really needing to know, but noticing that Roman said he didn’t check after the incident during his race.

“He didn’t, actually,” Logan spoke up first, most of his attention on the paperwork he started to look through in the brief break in the conversation, his tea dangerously close to the edge of the desk, the only space it could be safely put, strangely enough, “which is peculiar taking into account that we can easily access the list of contestants, as it is fully public information. Although…” he finally found the paper he was looking for, apparently ready for the question before it was spoken. Why was he still printing out stuff like that when it was all on the internet, Virgil wondered, but didn’t question it. Maybe he just had enough of staring at the screen for so long. “It seems that he races under the alias of ‘Deceit’, and the surname is too common to try and narrow it down. He must be from this town, though, if so many share his surname.”

“Huh.” Virgil leaned his head on the back of the chair, getting a little more comfortable. This whole situation seemed a little surreal, something he could just as well blame on it being because of the flashback. Maybe it was entirely normal to race under a nickname since it was allowed, apparently. Again, who was he to judge.

After the rest of the tea was finished, Patton offered to drive him home. Virgil wanted to protest, but he knew there was not much he would be able to do with his shift being almost over either way, so he had to relent. Logan assured him that there will be no significant delay in their work, as there wasn’t any immediate need for any of the bikes they were currently working on, so he shouldn’t worry and let himself rest.

When Virgil crossed the threshold of his apartment he really did want to do something productive, maybe tidy it up a little or cook something quick for a warm dinner, but as soon as he sat down for a second, his eyes started to drop. Sooner than he could notice, he was out.

--------------------

Masterpost --- Next Chapter >>

Taglist: @mariita-2006 @bullet-tothefeels @crossiantgay

[tsbikersau]

Chapter 6

The crash played in Logan’s head on repeat, like a cursed video that was meant to be forever ingrained into his head, burned onto his retinas never to fade away. He knew that would not be the case, but it didn’t change the fact that at the moment he truly was reliving it over and over again.

It was horrifying, he had to admit. Even more than horrifying. He saw Roman in the lead, so he could assume he wasn’t one of the victims but this another annoying voice in his head screamed for his attention with “Well what if he did?!”. He didn’t, Roman was fine. He was fine. There was no reason for overreacting. He was a professional, he must be okay.

Logan was taken out of his stupor by Patton’s strong grip on his upper arm, shaking him slightly. People around them were leaving the stands, and Virgil was hyperventilating. Of course. He cursed himself mentally for letting himself get so lost in his own turmoil.

The seats closest to them were already empty, leaving enough room for Logan to crouch in front of Virgil without worrying about blocking the path (there was always some asshole who didn’t understand that they can go the other way and insisted on making everyone’s day harder, so he was glad this was already out of the way).

His own mind was racing, heart beating somewhat frantically, but he tried with all his might to at least seem in control and composed. When he reached for the headphones around Virgil’s neck, which must have fallen off when he started panicking or he took them off himself because the crowd was quite orderly that day, he tried not to pay any mind to his shaking hands.

“Virgil, I need you to take your hands away from your head,” he started, hoping he can get through to him. “I have your headphones but I can’t put them on if you’re blocking them. It’s okay, there is almost no one here. Everything is fine. You are fine.”

How long did they stay like that, before Virgil returned to the present? Neither of them noticed, it wasn’t important. Patton sighed, relieved, when Virgil’s eyes were once again conscious, without that fog of unwanted memories clouding them. He bit his lip a little too hard, which he noticed only when Patton took a packet of tissues out of his pocket, took one out and passed it to him with a smile and a quiet “for your lip”. Virgil’s hands were violently shaking, but he tried for a small grateful smile from behind the tissue.

The ride home was quiet. Patton insisted on driving everyone back, even though he lived in a completely different part of the town. When they were all securely in the car, Logan checked his phone. There was a message in the group chat, and once he read it he felt the weight of a tonne worth of bricks getting lifted from his shoulders and he could finally breathe in fully.

“Roman is perfectly fine, albeit a bit shaken,” Logan said aloud, following that with reading the message to everyone in the car. He heard the shaky breath of the anxious man in the back, he saw the way Patton’s reassuring smile lost its strain, becoming genuinely relieved.

The ride was silent, everyone too caught up in their own heads to care for any conversation. Logan was thinking about everything aside from the fact, how relieved he felt, and how affected he seemed to be. He got so used to ignoring his abnormal feelings towards their star biker, but now it felt like he wasn’t able to do that anymore. No matter how much he tried to focus on Virgil in the back, one thought kept coming back like a very annoying pendulum. A mantra set just to taunt him.

He could have died. And I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

I almost witnessed Roman’s death.

And if he knew that those kinds of thoughts were ultimately pointless, he couldn’t stop them from coming. Because yes, this time it ended up okay. But what if there is a next time that isn’t this fortunate?

Logan looked out of the window, on the blurs that were the buildings passing by. He was still feeling miserable and there’s only so much a person can do to feel a semblance of being detached from the situation in a car with three people in it.

***

The race was, ultimately, decided to be not taken into consideration. There was no time to reschedule before the next part of the contest, and since that one was meant to finalise who gets to ride in the semi-finals, the boards decided to make an exception and take the points the riders ended up with after the previous one with additional points added based on the positions right before the crash, probably the most complicated way out possible. Which, in short, meant that Roman got qualified, obviously, but so did Remus.

The moment Roman entered the garage the following morning, it being the middle of the week and of course they would be working, Virgil threw the cloth he was using to get some of the grime off his hands on the floor and positively threw himself at Roman. Such a display was so unexpected that the biker had to take a step back, almost losing his balance, but he soon recovered enough to laugh at the string of curses that was being muttered into his jacket. He hugged the man back, and from the looks of it, it was a proper squeeze.

Logan couldn’t hold his little smile while watching the exchange. They might banter and edge on the borderline of a fight every other day, but in the end Virgil really cared for every one of his friends.

Of course no one will speak about that lapse of judgement that made him hug Roman. Aside from Roman, for whom the action may become another thing to banter about. Of course.

(He really appreciated it, though. Not the fact, that he almost fell and lost another chunk of his dignity, but the hug itself was really what he needed, although he didn’t realise it. He must have been still shaken, more so than he thought on entering the shop.)

The second Virgil released him, another pair of arms took him captive, this time without cursing him to hell and back. The day more than one swear world in consecutive progression leaves Patton’s mouth will be the day of the apocalypse, that was a known fact.

When Roman looked to Logan on the other side of the working station, he was smiling brightly, but when Logan smiled back (he couldn’t help it, the relief he felt on seeing Roman alive and breathing too much for his stoic expression. Frankly, he didn’t care) he could swear Roman’s eyes got a little softer. There was something in his expression before it got covered up with a confident wink, to which Logan could do nothing but huff and go back to his work. There he was, he will be okay.

After that, the day went as usual. And if Logan glanced up from his work to check if Roman is really alright a bit more often than he would normally, well, no one really noticed. Aside from the biker in question, but he wasn’t going to bring it up. Yet.

----------------------------

Masterpost --- Next Chapter >>

Taglist: @mariita-2006 @bullet-tothefeels @crossiantgay

[tsbikersau]

btw this's been finally taken care of as well!

Is it just now that I actually realised "hand in hand" means holding hands and not just beside one another? Yes.

Am I going to change that poor wording in the second chapter? Yes, someday.

Sorry for the confusion, just some not-native speaker problems!

[tsbikersau]

Okay folks, back from death to thank you for your patience, the chapter is ready and I’m just going to edit it real quick before posting

[tsbikersau]

Just here with another small updste. As you all know I've fallen out of the fandom but I'm set on finishing this thing, seeing as it barely started and it'd really be unfair to all of you to just abandon it now. Don't worry about that, it will happen.

That being said, no chapter for at least a month more, please bear with me, it's the final exams month and I really need to focus on that. Where did all the time go, its already gonna be June.

Take care!

[tsbikersau]

Is it just now that I actually realised "hand in hand" means holding hands and not just beside one another? Yes.

Am I going to change that poor wording in the second chapter? Yes, someday.

Sorry for the confusion, just some not-native speaker problems!

[tsbikersau]

heyo u dont have to answer this but could u pls remove me from the tag list ty :]

Sure thing, answering just to let you know that I've seen it and it's done. Take care!

[tsbikersau]

Hi! I’m falling out of the ts fandom sadly, I was wondering if you could take me off the taglist? I’m sad to go but the fandom isn’t really doing it for me anymore

Yeah, I 100% get you, friend, I have been out of it for a while now as well, completely no will to write for the fandom anymore, no excitement or anticipation for next instalments. Maybe I just outgrew it.

Still, I'm committed to this AU and it'd be really not nice towards all of you to just go and abandon it when nothing really happened yet, so I'll do my best to finish this as painlessly for as I would be able to, for both sides, without it being noticeably sloppy and rushed work.

Either way, don't worry, it's totally fine, if anyone else wants to be taken off the tag list just shoot me an ask and it'll be done. Thank you for reading, though! Means a lot to me that you decided to spend some of your precious time on this little thing.

[tsbikersau]

Chapter 5

The crash was unexpected.

The sound resonated so close that Roman almost thought it was him crashing and his own brain hadn’t registered it yet, but he didn’t feel the sudden yank of the freefall, didn’t feel the sudden stop and he wasn’t off his bike, so it must have been something else. Something very close to him, so close that it almost made his own arms spasm instinctively, almost making him go off the track himself, but he couldn’t see it so it must have happened right behind him - he couldn’t check, though, couldn’t just look back without reversing his bike.

Would making another lap be too late to help? What if somebody was in immediate danger, what if there was oil on the ground and everything was about to blow up?

It was seconds, really, maybe less, but it was enough time for all of that to cross his mind before he was twisting the grip and doing an U-turn. He couldn’t just let them stay there and win just like that, he didn’t care that someone else would snatch the victory and that it probably will be Remus (the green bike whooshed past him a second later, so he knew Remus had no remorse – somehow having that confirmed was just plainly disappointing - but he didn’t focus on that; his mind fully paying attention to the scene in front of him.

And what a truly horrible sight it was. His breathing stopped for yet another second once he took it all in: at least five other contestants involved, the whole width of their racing track taken up by the accident, successfully stopping any other contestants that were not a part of the crash from finishing the race. Some barely managed to come to a stop before adding to the number of casualties, some were not that lucky, ending up flying over the front or falling with the bike trying to save themselves, it all happening in front of Roman’s eyes.

It was horrifying.

He had no time to dwell on it.

He stopped his bike and threw his shield up to see better, to see the colours properly. He was looking around for immediate dangers that had to be taken into consideration first. Any fire or sparks that will soon turn into one? None, okay. Now, people under bikes. A few. Unconscious? As the stopped contestants started to get off their respective bikes, those who were a part of the crash seemed to slowly come to, just a bit. Most were moving slightly.

Good. Great. No deaths yet.

It all took a second or two to assess, and he was moving to the first person nearest to him, whose team chose yellow as their main colour. The helmet of the guy was horribly scratched and he was laying a bit away from his machine (God, he was lucky he didn’t get trapped underneath it, Roman was sure he saw at least one such case and he was already hoping that they will be okay and that their injuries won’t be as bad as they might).

There were scraps of metal and broken glass from the windshields everywhere, but Roman’s suit provided enough protection for him to be able to kneel on one knee next to the person, noting the rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, great. He distantly heard the orders the medical professionals started to yell out, having reacted as quickly as they could so that they ended up on the site just a minute after him. They were taking care of the most severely injured, asking those standing near them to help with lifting; so there was someone who ended like that, Roman had a good eye; all the good wishes for them.

That was noted somewhat unconsciously, most of his attention was on the person in front oh him. Roman gently lifted the person’s shield as well, fortunately still moveable despite the poor state of the rest of the helmet. Roman was glad for the cloudy weather now because it meant he didn’t have to hover over the poor person to block the blinding sun.

“Hey, buddy, are you with me?” he spoke up, gently placing his hand on the person’s shoulder in a gesture that was meant to be comforting.

Their eyes opened slightly, but there was unwillingness to that. They must have been in a lot of pain, on the verge of passing out, probably, or just waking from being passed out.

“Hey, hey, buddy, stay with me now,” Roman kept talking, hoping the medical professionals will come soon to take over. He was in no way qualified for anything more than basic CPR. “You think you can do that?”

The person blinked at him and furrowed their brows, seemingly a bit more wanting to speak before another figure took his eyes off of Roman – a medic who appeared way faster than Roman expected, which could mean that there weren’t that many casualties, which was good. A relief, really, but once Roman stood up and brushed his knee off with his gloved hand, adrenaline still pumping in his veins, he looked around, a bit lost as to what to do now when everything was being taken care of by the right people. He didn’t want to jump on his bike and ride to the finish line, and other contestants that were involved in the impromptu saving mission looked similarly lost.

The announcement from the big speakers took him out of his stupor. They were to leave the track, the fate of the competition to be announced at a later date, so Roman took his bike and started to wheel it to his team’s booth, his on-site mechanics rushing to him to take over as soon as the biker got in their vicinity. Everyone was talking over each other and Roman kept assuring everyone that he was fine, that he got lucky. Not one person mentioned that he could have won and he was happy about it – that wasn’t the most important part.

Then it dawned on him. Virgil and Patton were somewhere in the audience, they might have not seen everything clearly. They might have thought he was one of the injured. Virgil was probably panicking because of the sole event of the crash, worrying about Roman making it worse, if it even made it through his own flashbacks.

And Logan was in the audience, too. Logan, who has never seen a crash take place before, only on pictures and in the news he just listened to while working in the shop. Logan, who was always more worried for all of his friends than he let show.

He took off his helmet, convincing himself that there’s no use trying to seek them out from that big of a distance and in such a crowd, with such chaos everywhere around him. He just hoped they somehow knew he was fine.

He hoped they noticed the lack of a white bike among the debris left to be dealt with after every spectator left the premises and everyone who needed it was safe in the hospital.

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