Gravity

Home : Stories by Catw00man : Gravity

Summary: He can’t stop the pull.

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: PG
CHARACTER: Jeff Gordon/Ingrid Vandebosch, Jeff POV
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #57 (#32 for me) - Barophobia
COMPLETED: August 17, 2007
WORD COUNT: 2,135
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
DEDICATION: To Zippit for the excellent beta. Thanks so much hun!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ok, yeah, this one is a little strange. It’s inspired by media quotes from Jeff after he spun out with a lap to go at Watkin’s Glen. The quote to the media at the very end is an actual quote and what ended up inspiring the whole fic. This fic is also a fulfillment of the TtM “Barophobia” prompt so that explains the rest. And yeah, I really so love the way Ingrid seems to pet him. They were so precious during prerace!
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Watkin’s Glen - Post Race - August 12, 2007

~*~

Pulling me towards Earth
Its mass based grip won’t relent
Barophobia

~John Merland

~*~

King of the road.  That’s what they used to call me.

Nine wins.  Five in Sonoma, four here.  More than anyone in NASCAR history.  Another lap and a half and I’d have evened the score between Infineon and Watkin’s Glen, won my first here since 2001…but it wasn’t meant to be.

No, that’s not it.

It wasn’t fate that spun me around, all by myself.  It wasn’t some kind of predestination that handed the win to Tony--the only person I couldn’t bear to see get 10 more bonus points--on a silver platter.  Not when all race long I’d driven my own pace, let cars go by when I needed to only to get back to the front again and again.  No, the race was mine.  All I had to do was drive my race my way for two more laps and Tony never would have caught me. 

But I tried too hard.

And the wheel just seemed to slip out of my hands as the car went around for no reason other than my own stupidity.  I pushed too hard, tried for too much, spent too much time looking at the orange car in my mirror and stopped doing what I knew I should be doing.  I stopped running my race, all because I wanted those ten stupid bonus points.  I’m leading by almost 400 points, but in four races I lose them all.  I had to try for more…and by doing so I lost it all.

Raise my head to look around, trying to dodge the media that dogs my every step.  I don’t want to answer anymore questions.  I don’t know it I can.  I can barely pick my feet up enough to walk.  Feel my chest start to tighten, and I know what’s happening…and it can’t happen here, not like this.

It feels like the world itself is pulling down on me, suffocating me with its unrelenting grip.  I want to give in, right here in the garage, and drop to the ground.  Anything to make this pull stop.  Feel the cold sheen of sweat across my brow, the way my stomach churns and I know I’ll never make it back to my coach.  Look around desperately, even as I see another round of reporters come my direction, and I have to find something…some place….

There.  The blue and red flame of my hauler.  Safety.  On a few steps away.  Grit my teeth and force myself to keep going as I feel my chest grow tighter.  One step, two, three and four.  There.  Finally.  Reach the door.  Now I just have to climb the steps.

Fuck, I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna, I don’t--

I have to.

Force myself to climb the two stupid steps that feel like fucking mountains and force myself though the hauler, my wild eyes seemingly enough to get my crew to clear out.  Make it to the lounge and shut the door behind me before I fall to the floor, tears sliding down my face.  This can’t be happening.  Not now.  Not when I need to hold myself together for my team, for Ingrid, for my beautiful baby Ella that’s waiting for her Daddy.  I can’t be having a panic attack because it feels like the world is crushing me.  Not again.  Oh please, not now.

Try to focus on my breathing as I squeeze my eyes shut, hands balled into fists as I press my forehead to the floor.  Not since I found Ingrid have I lost control like this, fear and anxiety paralyzing me to the floor.  Flatten myself even more as the tears fall and I try to get my stomach to stop turning over like I’m falling.  I need to just give in to the pull. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.  Not after all the money I spent on psychiatrists the year after Brooke left.  The first time this happened I thought I was going to die…and this time feels no different.  Focus on my breathing again and barely hear the door to the lounge open and close.  Please leave me alone.  Please…no one can see me like this.

“Jeff….”

The voice is melodic, lightly accented and there’s only one person it can be.  The one person I never, ever wanted to see me like this.  My beautiful, beautiful wife.  Oh god Ingrid, please just leave.  Please let us pretend this never happened.  It was never, ever supposed to happen again.  Try to tell her.  Try to beg her, but all I can do is whimper softly and press flatter to the ground.

“Oh my love,” she tells me softly and there’s no mocking or chastising tone to her voice.  Only love, just like always.  Feel her caress the side of my face again and again, long graceful fingers threading through my hair even as I cry and shake like a baby.  Finally, finally my body starts to relax and I’m not gasping for breath as the paralyzing force that drove me to the ground slowly begins to lessen its pull.  Turn towards her and wrap my arms around her waist, pressing my face to her stomach as my tears finally turn from those of fear to shame, and I can’t face her, I just can’t. 

Feel her rock me slowly, back and forth and I try to cling to her longer, wanting to hold onto this sweet peace she offers but real life is already pressing it.  Ella needs us.  The nanny and the media are waiting for us.  But I can’t deal with that yet.  No, I have to find some way to explain the unexplainable.  I have to make her understand without thinking I’m crazy.

“Ingrid,” I rasp softly and I expect her to pull away.  But she doesn’t.  She just keeps softly stroking my face and in an instant I remember every reason why I love her.  She doesn’t make demands of me.  She doesn’t try to turn me into something I’m not.  She’s never pushed me in anything, always letting me just be myself in a way no one in my life ever has.  To be honest…I don’t think I even really knew who I was before I met her.  God, I really do love her more than anything.

Slowly raise my head to look at her and I can easily read the lines of worry etched in her beautiful face, but still…she doesn’t push me.  She knows I’ve been pushed my whole life and she understands if I’m just given time I’ll tell her anything…even this.  Swallow hard and try again to form words.

“Ingrid, baby, there’s-there’s something wrong with me,” I stammer softly, unable to meet her eyes.  “Some-something I…need to tell you.”  Feel myself tremble and focus on my breathing not wanting to have another episode as I wait for her response.

“And I’ll listen, my love.”  Feel her soft lips brush my forehead as she caresses my face again.  “But there’s nothing wrong with you.  You are who you are and I love everything about you.”

“Ing…,” I murmur soft and finally raise my eyes to hers again and my breath catches in my throat.  How can anyone, honestly, ever look at me with so much love?  Reach for her hand and shake my head slowly.  “No, baby, you don’t understand.  I-I…I have a--.”  Oh hell, what was the word?  “I have a…phobia,” I finally admit and drops my eyes to mumble softly.  “I just…thought it was gone.”  Shake my head slowly.  “It was…supposed to be gone.”

Feel her tugs me closer and I only hesitate a moment before I curl into her arms, letting her stroke my hair and face again.  “Tell me, my love.  Tell me what I can do for you.”

Close my eyes and sigh, not wanting to face these memories I’d locked away, thinking they’d never surface again.  It’s the only thing I never told her and it wasn’t because I wanted to hide it from her.  It was because I thought it was over.  I didn’t see a reason to even bring it up.  But I was wrong, and it’s time to come clean.

Swallow hard once more and then finally try to explain the best I understand it.   Over two years of counseling and I can still barely explain it.  “It happens when I’m stressed, baby.  It happens when I…fail.”  Like I did in my first marriage.  Like I did when I lost my first crew chief.  Like I did when my whole world crumbled around me and I couldn’t even make the Chase.

Part of me expects her to argue with me, to tell me I’m not a failure.  But she doesn’t.  She just continues with her reassuring touches and I love her all the more for it.  Somehow she knows I don’t need a pep talk.  There’s time for that later, just like there will be time to run over this last race in my head over and over and over.  Pause another moment as I can feel the car spin out again before finally continuing.

“It’s…they told me it was a panic attack, that’s the technical term but…it’s more than that.”  Take a deep breath.  I need to get through the rest even though it still doesn’t make sense to me.  “They called it a fear of gravity, but I don’t think that’s right.”  Lick my lips nervously.  “It’s like…the world is pulling me down, crushing me and I can’t fight the pull.  I-I…I can’t stop it.  I can’t stop it and I’m so-so damn scared.”

Feel her arms around me, running over my back and I can’t believe how her touch soothes me as I hear her sweet melodic voice again.  “So that’s why you were you were pressed to the floor.  To make the pull stop?”

Blink in surprise and raise my head to just look at her.  No one and I mean no one has ever understood so quickly.  It’s usually, “How can you be afraid of something so trivial,” and I never know how to answer be I don’t even know myself.  Reach out and brush my thumb across her cheek, sliding my hand back until it’s running through her long dark hair.

“Yeah, yeah that’s…exactly how it is,” I tell her softly and curl even closer to her.  I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me.  Somehow, someway, she understands.  She understands me completely and without question, and I know that with her I can make it through anything.

Linger in her comforting embrace a little while longer and then slowly pull back as I reach for her hand.  “Let’s get Ella and go home, Baby. I’ve had enough of this place for another year.”

Watch her beam at me as I pull us both to our feet and feel her squeeze my hand.  “We can make it through anything, my love,” she tells me without a doubt and I press my lips back to hers as she kisses me gently.  Nod to her and then finally take a deep breath, ready to face the world.

And it is waiting.  Forty minutes I’ve spent in my hauler and still there’s a crush of reporters waiting outside for me. One look and I feel my chest tighten but I force myself to take a deep breath and finally address the myriad of questions thrown my way.

“I didn’t need oxygen.  I needed a….”  A what?  I good cry?  A break down?  To temporarily lose my mind?  Reach for Ingrid’s hand, lacing our fingers and giving hers a squeeze.  “I won’t say that,” I tell them, shaking my head.  “I just tried too hard,” and with that, I’m done.  They can go find Tony, Earnhardt, or maybe Harvick if they want more sound bytes today.   

One look to Ingrid and I know she’s reading my mind.  “Let’s go get Ella,” I tell her with a smile that only grows as I see her light up at the mention of our baby girl.  Glance at her a little longer before making our way through the media to our coach and suddenly…things aren’t so bad.  Oh, I still hate myself for pushing too much; taking chances I didn’t need to take.  I still hate that my bride had to see me at my worst.  But it’s ok.  We’re ok.  There will be more races and now, now I have someone who really understands my fears.  Slide my arm around her waist as we make our way back to our coach and for the first time in a long time I really feel at peace.

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Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com