Title:  Where Angels Fly

Chapter Four of Ten

Anime/Manga: Speed Racer

For warnings, rating, and summary, see previous entries.

Story:

Rachel Racer listened quietly as the district attorney discussed "legal" options she and her family could take against one Trixie Vanderbucks.  She listened . . . but none of the words seemed to register.  All she could think of was the boy who lay in a hospital not more than five rooms away.  Her mind refused to grasp onto the fact that it had been her son's girlfriend who had put him there.  She couldn't believe it.  She didn't want to believe it.  Not Trixie.  Not her.

'How could this happen?  Why did it happen?'

Nothing made sense to the Racer matriarch anymore.  Her son had always been very adamant that no one on the Go Team drink or drive.  He'd often volunteered to be the designated driver at parties so no one would get hurt.  It didn't make any sense to her because she knew that Trixie knew that about Speed.

'So why was Trixie behind the wheel of that car?' she wondered.  'Why did Speed have to drop his keys at that moment?'

The event would forever be burned into her memory.  She'd been right there, smiling at her son as he crossed the street.  He was going to get the car . . . so she wouldn't have to walk that far.  His treat.  He'd been fishing the keys out of his pocket and they'd hit the ground.  Then, in slow motion, he bent down to pick them up just as the car came screeching out of nowhere . . .

"Mrs. Racer?"

"Honey?"

Her husband's voice and the voice of the district attorney brought her back to reality.  They were gazing at her, their expressions concerned.

She wanted to offer them a wan smile.  She wanted to tell them that she'd be all right . . . but the smile would have been fake, her words a lie, and she knew it.

"I can't do this," she murmured.  "I need to go back . . . my son needs me."

The district attorney nodded, his expression going from concerned to sympathetic.

"Very well, Mrs. Racer.  We can discuss this at a later time, if you'd like."

"Thank you," Rachel stated, rising to her feet.  Without another word, she was out the door and heading back to Speed's room.

* * *

"Is this even necessary?" Pops inquired after his wife left the room.  "I'm sure Trixie's beating herself up over this."

"It's a mere formality," the man stated, retrieving his papers and briefcase.  "You don't even have to press additional charges against Ms Vanderbucks if you don't want to.  The state will take care of everything."

"What if we don't want charges pressed against her?"

The attorney paused for a moment, his lips drawn tight.  Then he continued.

"It would take a lot of convincing, Mr. Racer, and a lot of pressure on your family's part.  The state of Michigan automatically presses charges in drunk driving cases.  There are penalties involved and she does need to learn that there are severe consequences for her actions."  Once he had everything, he looked Pops straight in the eye.  "However, if you and your family do not wish to press the charges, I'll see what I can do about getting them dropped.  I'll have to fight you on it . . . but I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," Pops murmured.  He, too, quickly exited the room and followed his wife to Speed's room.  He had no idea of what Rachel had to be going through at that moment, having witnessed the accident.  He also had no idea of how Trixie was taking the news, if she'd been told at all.  He just knew that his son was hurting and needed more medical care.  The doctors had told him as much.

"All of his ribs have been fractured, if not broken completely," the doctor had told them.  "There's also some internal bleeding, and a great deal of swelling on the right portion of his brain and multiple facial injuries . . ."

The news had steadily gotten worse after that.  Several of Speed's lower vertebrae had been severed in addition to his spinal cord, paralyzing him.  His chances for ever walking again were slim.  Both of his kneecaps had been shattered, one of his lungs had collapsed, and his right hip bone had been broken.  In addition to the swelling, the doctor had informed them that Speed had suffered some brain damage.  How much, though, they couldn't determine.  Not until they could get the swelling to go down.  Things were not looking so good for his son.

'He'll pull through,' Pops assured himself.  'He's a strong boy.  Always has been.  Always will be.'

* * *

He was driving.  His foot pressed the accelerator all the way to the floor and the engine hummed as his car reached its maximum speed.  Anger filled him but he couldn't explain why.  It just had.

Rex Racer, formerly known to the world as Racer X, stared straight ahead, trying his best to vent his anger.  He'd just heard the news about Speed.

'Critical condition . . . he's in the hospital, in critical condition . . .'

The story behind why his brother had landed in the hospital had become muddled in his mind.  All he could say for certain was that there'd been some drinking and driving involved.  What Speed had been doing was lost on him.  He just knew his brother's condition . . . and his need to vent the anger that had come with the news.

He drove on, heedless of where his car was taking him.