Chapter Text
His lungs were burning up as he tried to keep the last drop of air to himself, while fighting the darkness that slowly crept up to him, stealing pieces of his consciousness bit by bit. He wanted to cough, clear his throat to get some air, but through his goggles he could see bubbles dancing in the water. Even in his panicked state, he could see that opening his mouth would only worsen his position. Instead, he tried to move his arms, lazily flailing as he tried to get them work again.
The light that broke through the cold surface was rapidly fading as he got pulled deeper and deeper into the cold abyss.
No, this is not how his life will end. He has to live! He has to survive the race!
Mustering his last drop of strength he tried moving his limbs again, but they were heavier than blocks of lead and refused to listen to his pleas.
With one last kick, he jolted awake and the water was suddenly gone, replaced by white sheets that tangled uncomfortably around his body and kept him rooted to the bed. As he sat in the darkness he instinctively reached for his lungs, but the pain was gone. All he could hear was the rapid beat of his heart, drumming in his ears as he tried to recollect the fragments of his dream.
He died.
No, he not only died, but actually met his end in a very graphic way. Even his senses told him by reminding him the way the lake’s water cooled off his body and the numbing pain as his limbs slowly stopped moving according to his wishes.
Almost as if it truly happened and he drowned for real.
Shaking his head, he fell back on his pillow with a soft thud as he tiredly massaged sleep out of his face. He can worry about dreams later, what he needs to focus is the race and gathering information at all cost. The Transportation Corporation expects results from him.
When he finally dragged his body down the stairs and turned towards the small dining hall, he had to stop to take a deep breath and summon back the cocky smile everyone grew to know whenever he was around. Most of the time it was not fake, but occasionally he needed to fib through the day, get the pesky questions about his feelings out of the way. Staring at his reflection in the glass door he let his lips quirk upward while he did his best to loosen up his frown. Perfect.
Or at least that’s what he was thinking. The moment he entered the room and waved at his friends/rivals instead of greeting him from their table Demi just said:
“Jesus, Mike, you look as pale as a ghost.”
With this, his camouflage was broken and once again he could enjoy the attention of everyone in a way he definitely did not want at all.
“I did not sleep well, that’s all,” he explained as he made his way towards the plates and quickly started piling up his breakfast. Focusing on the scrambled eggs and the sausages to lock out the voices coming from behind his back.
“So even a cheerful guy like you can have bad days, huh?” Fiona looked at him, resting her elbows on the table. The woman was already done with her breakfast, but stayed around for tea and conversations.
“Hey, I don’t have bad days. Just low-energy days. Besides, the sun just peeked out from behind the mountains so I wouldn’t bury it as a bad one yet!” he laughed as he sat down, leaving the table shaking from his momentum. The girls just laughed at his antics, probably Murro would have joined in, if he was not outside, eating together with his boar.
The only person who remained silent was Norton. He just sat over his breakfast, counting the squares on the red, checkered tablecloth with a tired look on his face. He kept nibbling the scrambled eggs on his plate, by turning the same piece over and over again. Mike was tempted to tease him, maybe steal that sausage token from under his nose, but it seemed that the nightmare still left a sour taste in his mouth and he just wasn’t in the mood from bickering with his ex-coworker.
Instead, he focused his attention on Fiona.
“Hey, hey, Fiona, how well versed are you in dream reading thingy?” he asked, tapping the shoulder of the woman who sat next to him. After all if there was anyone who could give some meaning to what he saw, it had to be Fiona, someone who was always interested in the occult and how human minds have affected their surroundings.
“Hm, I might give it a try, but I have to warn you, I’m not as well-versed in that field. Just read a book or two about the topic and most of it might be based on my own observations.”
“That’s fine by me! You will probably make more sense out of it than I ever could,” he laughed, taking a bite from his food before continuing.
“Well in that case, let’s hear it,” she leant forward, her long brown braid touching the table and earning a scoff from Norton.
“Soooo, in my dream I was drowning. As in, it actually felt like I was drowning for real. It was also super cold, so maybe I fell into a lake in winter.”
“Well, drowning can be a sign that you are under too much pressure, which is normal, considering we are in the middle of a race. But, if you’ve experienced anhelation or anything like that, I’d recommend going to the doctor because you might have cardiac arrhythmia or something like that. Overall, I’d not call it a positive dream so sorry if you expected a different answer.”
“Geez, Fi, you are a real ray of sunshine…” Mike let out an exasperated sigh, but the smile was back on his lips.
“You asked for my opinion, so I gave you one. If you are unhappy with the result then ask someone else,” she folded her arms as she leant back in her chair. “Just don’t ask Norton, because from the look on his face, you might get something much worse.”
Up until now, Mike just thought that Norton was under the weather, maybe he was just stressed about the upcoming race. But when their eyes met, he saw fear flashing through them. Norton was biting down an unbuttered toast, jaws freezing mid-movement as if he was lost within his own thoughts, trying to make sense of the conversation. He was certainly bothered by something and if he gives him one more second, they will all have to witness a breakdown.
“Naaaah. I think for Nort I’d rather give a better dream, like that one when I was riding a flying blue giraffe that kept making elephant sounds and I was travelling with a circus.”
This seemed to work and brought the blonde man back to his senses.
“That’s just stupid,” he sighed with a frown, before giving him a weak smile. "But the circus part fits you well."
“Oh, give me one too!” Demi joined in.
“Let’s see… There was a dream, right before we left the gardens. We were all eating together in a fancy restaurant,” Mike nodded proudly. He did not dream anything like that, but the spark in Demi’s eyes was worth the fib.
“That’s easy! It means after today’s race we all have to go to a fancy place and celebrate!” she clapped happily. “Maybe even Campbell will learn to smile if he has some alcohol in his system!”
“I can smile and I don’t need alcohol for that!” Norton protested.
“Yeah, yeah... Maybe in Mike’s wildest dreams. With his imagination, I bet he could dream you up to be a real prince charming!”
Norton did not say a word after that, he just slumped back into his seat and continued staring at the food in front of him, his face slightly redder than before and Mike couldn’t help but feel that there was more to his bad mood than what he let himself show.
Sure, Norton was usually all doom and gloom, hitting Mike with handful of negative waves only to smile at his dumb jokes and teasing in the next moment, but this time the air seemed to shift around them. He did not miss the way the other man’s eyebrows were pulled into a frown and the way his lips formed a dissatisfied almost angry grimace.
Even Mike, who was usually too self-centered to notice these small changes was alerted, by the lack of emotions and the forced expressions. Deep down he had a feeling Norton wanted to be left alone, and this is exactly the reason why he decided to stick to him like a magnet.
Who knows, maybe he can even gain some information regarding the anomalies of this race.
However following Norton all day was like following watching paint dry. The man seemed to have an extremely boring but set routine with no coincidences between his actions. He went to the garage, talked to the mechanic there, asking for changes to fit their new snowy course. Then Norton had lunch, a sandwich, nothing more, then talked with the head of the team and went back to the garage, closing the door behind him.
From the corner of a building, Mike looked around with the impatience of a thief. Maybe this was his big chance to find out something, yet the door was closed, for a moment he was ready to retreat when his eyes spotted some cardboard boxes and wooden crates next to the building, perfect for a makeshift ladder so he could reach the small window on the side of the garage. After he collected them into one place, the cardboard box gave a pitiful scrunching sound when he stepped on it, but kept his body in place until Mike could grab onto the windowsill and pull himself closer to the window.
Through the layers of dirt he could clearly see Norton’s figure standing next to his car, his broad shoulders rose as he heaved a sigh as he continued to stare at the concrete. Mike instinctively leant closer to the glass, hoping that he would hear a conversation, but it seemed that Norton was standing there like a lifeless robot waiting for its next orders and the mechanic went out on an errand.
Annoyed by the sheer boredom resonating from his rival, Mike let out an angry huff and soon his boots were touching the ground again. Based on Norton’s behavior he expected juicy secrets, maybe an argument between him and Luca, but no.
Instead of watching Norton, he should have gone fishing at least that would have had some result too!
Yet, even as he walked towards his own garage the feeling that Norton was hiding something kept nibbling at his thoughts, occasionally bringing him new theories.
If anything, he well find out during the race.
***
Mike stood next to his car doing stretches, moving his torso left and right before he started working on his shoulders and went to regular squats on the snowy ground. However, behind his goggles his eyes were technically glued to Norton’s back waiting for that one tiny slip up that will eventually unveil the web of conspiracy Mike had created in his own mind.
“Mike you should seriously stop doing that,” he jumped when someone patted him by the shoulder. It was Demi wearing a smirk over her lips.
“Can’t a man even stretch in peace without you appearing?” he asked in a dramatic manner as he leant against his car.
“You can, but if you keep drooling over Campbell’s ass, people will talk and it is my duty to warn you about it,” the woman nodded towards the blond driver who was oblivious to the eyes on his back.
“Knock it off, Demi. As if you were not staring at him,” he chuckled, playing along. “And let the press talk. At least, I get to be on the front covers.”
“Alright, alright, just don’t burn yourself, Romeo.”
“Says the woman who blew up her car by pouring too much gasoline into it.” He noted, but when he saw the expression on Demi’s face, he wondered if he had said something bad. The woman raised her brows as if Mike just said the most impossible thing in the world.
“I never did anything like that. Come on, Mikey, don’t make up things just to get back at me! You are way more creative than that!” she told him, patting his shoulders again. “I’ll give you some time to think up a proper comeback. Let’s get back to this after the end of the race over a bottle of brandy. How about it?”
“Sure…?”
As Mike watched her walk back to her own car, he couldn’t help but wonder, where did that memory even come from? He and Demi only met recently, right before the championship on that fancy evening when his bosses dressed him up as a stock broker. He remembers Demi being tipsy, but the scene he had mentioned didn’t fit into the picture of his present.
Almost as if he had extra pieces in a puzzle.
Jumping into his car, he shot a last glance towards the Rocinante, closely watching the way Norton's shoulder rise and fall and didn’t miss Demi shouting “Eyes on the road, Romeo!” from next to him. This finally made Norton turn around, probably he thought the calling was for him, but since Mike did not react to the teasing so Demi’s words remained without a clear recipient.