Shatterglass

Home : Stories by Zippit : Bittersweet Miracles : Shatterglass

Summary: He never knew how fragile things really were.

AUTHOR: Zippit
EMAIL: zippit@cryptoffic.com
RATING: R
SERIES: Bittersweet Miracles
CHARACTER: Dale Earnhardt Jr, Kevin Harvick, Clint Bowyer, Dale Jr POV
COMPLETED: January 25, 2008
WORD COUNT: 3,219
DISCLAIMER: If you recognize anyone in this piece, I am in no way affiliated with or know them personally. I am neither making a profit nor plan to do so. This is nothing more than an exercise in fiction. This is a result of an overactive imagination and I claim no truth to these words.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This took entirely too long and hopefully this is up to par with the rest.
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UAW-Dodge 400 Post Race - Las Vegas, Nevada - March 2nd, 2008

Take a deep breath when Tony Jr. tells me we were P2. That’s a damn sight better than we were all last year. Last year was all about avoiding finishing too far back and wondering when the engines would blow. Don’t know what the fuck it was all about, but I’m glad I ain’t have to deal with it anymore. Wasn’t the way I wanted to go, but it is what it is.

Pull the car onto pitroad and unstrap as crew and media head for me.  All I want right now is to head home to Charlotte and play with the kits some. Window net down and I’m hauling myself out before I’m tempted to stay in the car any longer. After I’ve tugged my helmet off, I tussle a hand through my hair and take the AMP Mike hands me gratefully. The cool liquid slides down my throat and buys me some time before I have to tilt my head and hear the same questions again and again.

How’s it feel to finish second? Do you think you had anything for Carl? What’s it like being so close to your first win in over two years? It’s always the same. They ain’t got anything new and sometimes I wonder if the repetition hasn’t driven me nuts.

In a lull between media hordes, I glance down pitroad but don’t see Kev. I coulda sworn he finished close behind me. Glance at the pylon and yeah, he’s fourth. He should be around here somewhere taking part in the media barrage with the rest of us. See his car not that far behind me and there’s no sign of Clint either but that might be because he’s further down pitroad. Absently wipe my forehead as I keep looking for Kev. Where are they? Has something happened? No. Nothing’s happened. There’s nothing wrong. The kits are in the best hands possible.

Let out a slow breath and walk toward the media center with Mike at my side. “You sure you haven’t seen him?” I can’t shake the feeling something’s wrong and after everything I told Kev a few days ago...I just hope I’m imagining things.

“He disappeared the minute he got out of the car. Everything’s fine,” Mike says and I should believe him. I should. C’mon, one weekend. Just a couple of days. Can’t we have a few days of peace? That’s all I want...just this weekend and testing. He’ll be gone before it’s completely done, but he needs a few days away from the damn hospital. Sip at the AMP as we weave between crew and officials, my mind trickling toward race concerns when it all falls apart.

Spot Gil, Clint’s crew chief, headed straight for us with a look I don’t like. Tension in the line of his jaw and when he reaches us his words are low, “You need to go. Harvick’s near hysterics and Clint’s not you.”

Swallow hard and have to clear my throat. “Where?”

“Garage. Take care of him.”

“I will.” Hand off the AMP to Mike and shoot him a look he returns with a nod. He’ll take care of the media obligations. I just need to get to Kev before it’s too late. What the fuck is going on?

Don’t tell me it’s the kits. FUCK, why does it have to be the kits? What’s going on? Fucking hate the fact I’m not family, not really. They don’t tell me near enough. Dodge faster around people as I try not to draw too much attention. Need to get to him. C’mon, where is he, where is he…. Not my hauler, not Kev’s, wherewherewhere.... Garages are too fucking long. There they are! At the back of Clint’s garage stall. Dash inside only slowing when I reach Clint’s side. “What’s...?”

His head jerks toward me at the sound of my steps. The strained look leaves his face when he realizes it’s me, but he immediately turns back toward Kev, saying low, “He climbed out of the car and just started freaking out. Can’t get a word out of him. He just keeps saying he needs to get home.”

Look over to Kev who’s pacing back and forth. The thumb of his right hand presses against his wedding ring while the rest of his hand curls around his left as his eyes dart to the garage entrance repeatedly. I can handle rage, grief, vibrant, broad sparking emotions. This I don’t know if I can. “Kev, calm down. What’s going on?”

Only the top three need to go to the media center so Kev can duck the rest of the media. He has no obligation to them. Why couldn’t we go one weekend, just two days without something happening? Glance at Clint before I take a step forward, reaching out to Kevin. He whirls away from me but then keeps looking over his shoulder toward the coach lot.

“I need to go home. They need me! I need to go!”

“Kev, what’re you talking about? Talk to us. C’mon, we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

“I’m done listening TO YOU!” His scream echoes down the row of emptying garage stalls and heads turn. Drivers don’t often linger in the garages after races and on top of that we’re clustered around Clint’s pitbox. Kev can be excused cause he’s his teammate but me? If that doesn’t make a strange sight to see I don’t know what does.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here.” Look to Clint and nod. This really isn’t the place. We’re already drawing more attention than we need. People can’t know. The garage will close up around us, but if the media gets wind of this, they’ll spin it all over the place. We have to contain things before it gets that far. We don’t need the world to know how on edge he really is. 

I’ve got interviews to do. I know Clint could get Kev away on his own, but sometimes there’s more important things than catering to the media. Place a hand on Kev’s shoulder and usher him along between me and Clint. Need to get out of here. Just to the coach lot since the media know better than to bother us in there. That’s as far as we need to go. Fucking shit. Crew and other drivers will look the other way but I still ain’t want anyone to see him like this. They don’t need to see him fall apart.

Weave our way through the long rows of coaches and for once it’s a good thing I have the most unique coach in the lot. It’s like a beacon with its flames and white front. Kev’s coach is right next door and I’m not thinking twice about heading inside once we reach it. He needs to get somewhere private, away from prying eyes. Don’t even think about how going in there is gonna feel so damn wrong. Just needa take care of Kev. Everything else doesn’t matter till he’s taken care of.

Pull open the door of the coach and urge Kev inside before turning back to Clint. Catch his eye and shake my head. He ain’t need to see what’s gonna happen next. It’s not gonna be pretty. Watch Clint hesitate and bite my tongue to keep from saying anything. He’s just trying to help and I don’t want to  alienate him. I’ve needed his and ‘Thena’s help more than I could say over the past few months. I just...he’s not my main concern right now. It’s Kev.

Another hesitation before he nods and squeezes my shoulder then glances toward the interior of the coach where the lights haven’t come on. He shoots me another glance as I step inside and pull the door shut behind me. Testing’s tomorrow and normally we’d be flying out already but....

“Get. Out.”

Flinch and tighten my hand around the door handle, not sure what to think about his words. “I said get out! You promised me they’d be fine!” Fumble for the light switch, scrabbling along the wall. It’s got to be here somewhere. Finally stumble over the smooth panel, flick the switch, and squint in the light. I ain’t gonna go into a fight without knowing the territory. Kev lives in this place and he has to know it like the back of his hand.

“Kev, calm down. They’re being taken care of.” Eye him warily and the wild, flat look in his eyes does nothing to make this any easier. There’s no way to get back to the other side of the country tonight. He’s stuck and he’s probably gonna kill anybody in his way.

“They fucking seperated them! They’re not together, my babies aren’t together!” Ignore the hitch in my breath and push down my own worry as I walk toward him slowly, hands in front of me. They’re fine. Linda and Amanda are the best people to have with ‘em right now. C’mon, Kev’s overreacting and I don’t need to join him. He just needs to calm down. We’ll find out more tomorrow and figure out a way to get him home sooner.

“What do you mean they separated them? You couldn’t have done anything, Kev. We know Linda and Amanda would’ve done anything they could to move them back up together.” Make a mental note to talk to Jeff again. There’s no way after my conversation with the Chief of Staff this should’ve happened. The guy was so damn scared of doing something wrong, he nearly shit himself when I accosted him in the NICU.

Place a hand lightly on Kev’s shoulder to nudge him toward the couch, but he’s having none of it as he jerks away to pace. “You don’t belong here. You shouldn’t fucking be anywhere near them! You-you shouldn’t....”

Swallow hard but I knew this was coming. I knew it was only a matter of time. Drag a hand over my jaw and watch him. Helpless to do anything other than watch him suffer. “Kev, calm down. C’mon, you need to relax. Getting worked up right now ain’t gonna do anyone any good. We’ll get you back as soon as we can. You called your pilot yet?”

Curl my hand against the back of my neck, nails digging into skin. Fuck, all the damn numbers are in my iPhone but I ain’t got that on me right now. I don’t carry it around like Kev. Maybe I should at this rate. Look toward the front of the coach and bite my lip. Don’t even really know what’s going on with the kits, just that it’s not good. Turn back toward Kev as he spins and comes towards me. Open my mouth to say something when he’s somehow there, hands fisted into my firesuit as he shoves me back against the wall with a hard thump.

“FUCK! What the hell Kev?!” That’s gonna leave a mark. Bring my hands up to wrap around his wrists and squeeze them hard. How easy he turns on me.

“It shouldn’t be you! It shouldn’t fucking be you! It’s her that should be here. Her with Johnny and Lana, her doing everything! NOT YOU! NEVER YOU.” He slams me back against the wall with every word and fuck him, tomorrow and the next week are gonna be a damn torture. Narrow my eyes and shove him only enough to get him to let me go. He doesn’t mean it. I know he doesn’t...he can’t.

Even my voice out as much as I can when I finally reply, “Yeah, she should be, but she ain’t and what matters right now are Lana and Johnny.”

“NO! It matters, it damn well matters! It’s not you, it never should be you. You shouldn’t be in my life. You should be the fucking asshole partying it up at your Dad’s company, not giving a shit about the rest of the world. That’s where you should be, not in my coach when it should be her!”

He can’t keep still while he glares, shifting side to side, his hands twisting together while desperation’s written plainly in his eyes. Clench my jaw till it’s numb at his words. He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it. Have to remember that. Have to. Can’t react. Can’t. Step forward and grab his arms, sliding my hands down to squeeze his hands tight then lock gazes with him. “Harvick, listen to me. They’re in the best hands they could possibly be in. They’re doing all they can and you’ll be back with them as soon as we can swing it. I’ll finish the test in your car if I have to.”

He doesn’t fight my touch, but he trembles more than he should and his eyes, they aren’t looking at me. They’re looking right through me and it’s fucking creepy. Don’t know what he’s seeing. Don’t care to know as long as he calms down. He needs to focus, otherwise no matter what the hell’s going on, I ain’t letting him on the track. He’d sooner kill one of us in this state than anything else.

“Can’t. You’re not one of us. Not part of the team. Bowyer doesn’t drive a setup close to mine and Burton’s got better things to do.”

 I’m not one of them. I’m not part of the team. I don’t belong. Of course. I’ve just been holding his goddamn ass together for the past few months. But I’m not female, not blonde, not his wife so it all means shit. Keep my voice soft as I say, “You’re right, Kev. I’m not your teammate. I’m not RCR and I’m not DeLana.”

Watch him for anything that looks like recognition, but it’s still nothing but that panicked desperate look in his eyes. I can’t leave him alone to get beer from my coach. I’d never get back in again. And people seeing me banging on his door all night wouldn’t help matters. Stay near the door when he pulls free to pace.  I’m not gonna let him bolt or kick me out. Who knows what’d he do to himself.

“This all doesn’t fucking matter. They matter. My family matters over this load of shit we call racing. Testing doesn’t matter. Races don’t matter. I should be with them 24/7!”

“DeLana would smack you for--”

His hand is at my throat, squeezing tight, unspeakable grief in his eyes. “Don’t you say her name! You don’t know her! You don’t know me!” Suck in a gulp of air around his grip, my hand on his wrist, trying to tug it away.

“What the fuck’s going on, Kev? You get out of the car all spazzed the hell out. I ain’t got a clue! Fill me the fuck in,” I manage to choke out as I glare at him. I have no idea how to get through to him. It’s like everything just became too much. I don’t freaking know why. He was fine. It was all fine before the race. The kits were good, he was good, things were as good as they could be.

His hand drops from around my throat and it’s like all the anger evaporates as he moves to slump down on the couch. I barely even catch his whispered, “Lana....” And suddenly it doesn’t matter if I need to breathe anymore.

“Wh-what?”

“She had trouble breathing. Moved her back. Johnny didn’t go with her.” Let out a harsh whistle of air between my teeth. Why the fuck wasn’t Johnny moved back?! I know if it’d been Amanda or Linda in charge this wouldn’t be an issue, but of course we got those stupid idiots in the step down unit. I can’t fucking wait till the kits can go home, away from the garbage tending that place. Shove my hands deep into my firesuit pockets, digging my fingers into the fabric as I watch him stare down at the floor. He’s not going anywhere soon. This shouldn’t be happening. It never should’ve happened.

I hate the fact that there’s no end in sight as to when they’ll be normal babies. They’re already so far behind with being born early and all these complications. It’d be a huge weight off Kev’s shoulders if he could pretend for a while that everything was fine. The kits were healthy and at home and...DeLana was still at his side. Sigh soft to myself and look at him another long moment before I move to the fridge. Lean on the door as I peer inside and there’s nothing I want. Nothing hard or bitter, nothing to ease the sting of worry and the heartache of loss. I won’t leave him. I can’t. Right now I’m all he has to keep him going. I’m not gonna fail him.

Look back at him every several minutes because the silence is getting to me. He’s the fidgety one, he’s the one that always has a conversation going. Without anything to distract me there’s nothing to do but think about where I am and why I shouldn’t be here. Maybe I should’ve let Clint help. I don’t know anymore. Am I even doing the right thing? 

Move slowly over to the couch to sit beside him. “Kev...it’ll be ok. They’ll be fine.” Gently wrap my arm around his shoulder then out of nowhere his fist slams into my chest. Choke for air as my eyes widen and try to move away but the bastard has his hand fisted in my firesuit.

Start to shove him away when I hear his words, “‘msorry, ‘m sorry. Didn’t mean it. Don’t go. I’m sorry.” Bite the inside of my cheek hard as I wrap my arm around him again and cradle him against me.

“Ssssh, it’s ok, Kev. It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not. It’s ok.” I can still feel adrenaline pumping through me. That’s gonna leave a bruise longer than the rest but I don’t care. Look down at Kev and hold back a sigh. He doesn’t deserve this. Doesn’t need to be reminded of everything he lost week after week and how precarious the rest of his world hangs when he’s so far away.

Hold him close as he presses his face against my shoulder and cries silently, shoulders shaking. Has he even let himself grieve? He’s thrown himself into taking care of the kits for so long. Rock him gently until his soft whimpers stop. Maybe I’m not doing the right thing but it’s better than doing nothing. Shift until he’s more comfortable, spread out along the couch, tucked against me. He’s not letting go and he needs to sleep. I won’t wake him, not tonight.

Lean back against the couch and wonder how life got so screwed up. Holding him like this, being with him, it’s everything I want but I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to have him in my arms like this. I don’t want to watch him sleep, exhausted, as his hand relaxes slightly from his death grip on my firesuit. I’d give anything to never know the inside of his coach, that look of grief on his face, or the hollowness in his eyes. I’d give anything to make him happy again.

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Zippit - zippit@cryptoffic.com