Author's note: I'm so stoked that you are still tuning in! Thank you for the kind reviews. Enjoy the continuation!

The drive to Halifax's hospital was somber. Melise took her time, driving only a mile or two over posted road limits, even taking the time to consider a car wash station she passed on en-route, but the idea seemed selfish to indulge. She increased speed, letting her eyes take back to the road ahead, drinking in the Florida sunset.

The convertible slowed to a stop as she reached a red light. She watched heavy evening traffic pass horizontal, blinking her eyes tiredly, and looking blankly ahead. Truthfully, she didn't have to visit Grid at all. The events leading to his hospitalization were not her fault nor concern, even if Melise felt she had a moral obligation to play the role of peacemaker. Grid was an ass to her, maybe even a bigger one than Tony. Nonetheless, the circumstances of this evening's race brought closure, gratitude, and humility amongst the oil runners. Part of Melise believed that if Grid weren't in his particular situation tonight, he would have shared the same comradery she, Yarvis, Kessler and Preston had together.

Maybe. That was a big maybe. She had to stop being so damn kind and accept the reality she wanted for that fool since day one of meeting him—to see him get a taste of his own medicine. It had finally happened. Grid was likely calling the guys, trash-talking Tony for the fight, and drinking some premium Valvoline while he recovered, trying to find a way to profit from this mishap. He'd learn nothing from this and continue being the idiot he always was.

The traffic light turned green, and Melise seriously considered turning around, back to her own priorities for a moment. She deserved a warm car wash and a nice buffer, but instead, she pulled through the intersection, scoffing as loudly as she could muster for her own consolidation.

Hospitals were always a mix of a professional office and uncertainty. When Melise had creeped her way into the reception, the white Pontiac nurse behind the glass had given her a crass welcome, stating that visitors weren't welcome in the ICU.

The Intensive Care Unit. Grid was there…

Melise had reversed some, her eyes adverted to the ground for a moment to collect her thoughts as she rolled off to the side. Cars didn't end up in the ICU without dire reason.

"We know each other," Melise replied, driving back to the desk, "Please."

The words had tumbled out, guarded and slow.

"Are you a relative of Grid's? We have strict privacy protocols, Ma'am."

Of course, it was a hospital. They always have strict privacy protocols.

Melise straightened herself, "No, not a relative, but I am a coworker. He was injured at work; I want to see him since no one else can make it."

Words always sounded sincere when they were soft, nonetheless, Melise could see the Pontiac digesting the statement. She'd heard better excuses.

"Please," Melise looked towards a busy hallway, then back to the car in front of her, "It won't be long. If you have someone available, they can supervise?"

The nurse had let her inside, although, reluctance was all over her hood. She explained which floor and room Melise could find her 'friend' and promptly departed back to her work. The convertible had developed anxiety on the way there, avoiding listening closely to the snores of some vehicles and the weeping of others. Dread begun to coat her circuits as she drew closer to the quiet hum of the intensive care ward, and further from general care.

What would she even say to him? They weren't even friends. He'd probably be asleep, hardly bothered, and fuzzy.

Melise turned the corner to the room's entrance, peeking inside from the darkened hallway.

There was a car, what she could make sense of. Grey with some drabbles of deep brown and black oil stains amongst his cab. His front tire was misaligned, pulled into makeshift place likely when he arrived to ensure movement and to minimize immediate discomfort, yet still misaligned. The sight made Melise's circuits run cold, and she breathed in, then out slowly.

More misalignment, and violent.

It took a few seconds to make sense of. The cab had been bent. Concave in a disturbing line across the midsection just behind his small windows. The injury had ripped away delicate fiberglass, tearing some undercarriage vitals with it, the image didn't seem consistent with survival. The longer her eyes lingered, the less he resembled a car, and Melise found her distressed only wavered by his diagonal rear being her only sight.

Grid wasn't living, he was trying to survive.

Melise reversed in a daze, her eyes transfixed on Grid's limp form, the dried oil hastily cleaned from his wounds, but still left in traces. She wanted to leave.

"M'urse…"

Melise froze. The voice was hoarse, slow, and hurting.

"M'urse… can m'I… see m'friend?"

They told him she was here, naturally.

Melise creeped into the room, her eyes meeting Grid's weary stare as she cautiously approached to meet his front end. His windshield was shattered, eyes travelling where they could avoid the damage. She couldn't recognize him, it disturbed her greatly.

"Grid," he made a noise upon hearing his name, even as gently as it was said, "Hi."

"M'I f'ought m'friend Tony w'here," Grid's swollen front end made it all the worse. His battered cheeks squished his mouth closed in a muffle, some teeth stained with blood and oil. Melise's mouth hung agape slightly. She trailed her sight to the door, wondering if her cue to leave had long passed. Grid's voice was sorrowful upon realizing she wasn't his best friend.

"I don't know where Tony is," Melise answered carefully, "I was the one visiting. I just wanted to see that you're okay. Yarvis told me what happened."

Grid's eyes seemed to search for answers. He looked confused, even as his front was difficult to read with the scarring, "M'can'tee you, m'urse," Grid blinded crookedly, his voice fell quieter, "m'eyes are 'till broken."

"Grid, I'm… it's me, Melise," she remained still, "I didn't realize you couldn't see me."

Melise paused a moment, watching him pick apart the statement until he grew weary from thinking.

Grid started over, trying to remember her with the energy he had, "…. You're my'murse," he replied, a tone suggesting he was unsure himself and tired. Melise looked down, she was making things harder for him than they already were, and he was sedated. A ping of guilt cooled through her.

"M'urse," Grid seemed to perk up weakly, "did you'msee," he gestured the flat screen TV mounted on the wall, Melise glanced towards it, noting that it was off.

"Did you see'race?" Grid continued, grimacing slightly as he tried to straighten himself, slumping back on his chassis, but elated, "m'I'wanted see M'Queen… beat Shtorm."

The race had finished nearly two hours ago, Grid missed it. Melise rolled closer, her eyes so soft, "I did see the race," she replied, then smiled despite herself, shrugging, "only some of it."

Grid lifted a misaligned tire slowly, glancing at her, "Th'doctor said I can'drive'gain soon." Grid sniffled some oil leaking through his grille.

"That's great!" the news even cheered Melise up, "you're going to look all clean and shiny in no time."

Grid hummed a bit, "thanks, m'urse."

Without warning, another vehicle knocked on the corner of the doorway, meeting her friendly gaze with Melise. The convertible nodded once. The car drove inside, her physician attire prominent.

"Hello Grid," the lady spoke, her voice nearly matched Melise's in softness, "Do you want to guess who it is?" She played little banter. Melise watched on with gentle smile.

"Uhmm," Grid looked confused again, he staggered on, soon having no answer.

"I'm your doctor, Pattie," she tried to jog his memory, sneaking a smiled glance Melise's way, "We're going to play this little exercise every week until you're better, okay?

Grid mumbled in affirmation.

Doctor Pattie drove aside, checking his monitors before making a satisfied turn back to Grid. Melise caught a glimpse of the doctor's expression, once cheerful, become melancholic as she parked herself diagonal in front of Grid.

Doctor Pattie inhaled, then exhaled slower, she gave her patient a motherly smile, "Grid, we are preparing to give you more fluids until we can get you stable," Doctor Pattie explained, "However, the misalignment of your cabin is very extensive, along with the damage to your rear axles."

Melise's smile had faded away.

"Grid, I have spoken with the hospital physiotherapy specialist," Doctor Pattie held her treads together in sincerity, "You will not be able to drive past forty miles per hour… for life. And…."

Melise distracted herself by studying an old country analog clock on the wall. Time seemed to be moving slower.

"We have a disability sticker we will provide for you, which must be worn at all times.

Grid had become somber and mute, digging for some understanding "m'I can't drive prop'ly?"

Doctor Pattie nodded, "I understand it is hard, staff are here to support you—"

"Forever ...?"

"Yes Grid, you will have to register as a disabled vehicle for life, however we have worked with vehicles in your circumstance before, we have many resources to provide support here on site," the doctor put in gently and simple.

"Grid," the doctor returned her usual motherly smile, "I will have someone bring you dinner, alright?"

Once the doctor departed, Melise had no words. The room's ambient beeps from monitors as well as the cooled down air set the tone. This was his life now, it hurt her more than she believed it could, things like this were so common in the world, but to experience its pain... Everything in their past was let go in an instant, it had to be.

"Hey Grid," Melise called on, her voice was more distraught than she had wanted it to sound. She watched his cab turn slightly, "Wanna watch the Florida 500 race on TV together? You can eat dinner while we watch."

The grey coupe's eyes lit up, and he smiled some, "Yesh, m'urse, m'I've been lonely an' bored!"

Melise smiled a poignant face of hurt and hope, listening to Grid tell her about his day before the RSN race replay. The sunlight he could just barely see, so he knew it was morning, his assumptions were never answered by busy staff in and out of his room. Guessing the make of cars on the avenues outside based on sound alone to pass the loneliness. He mentioned being able to move his front tires more easily, but the backs were numb and he could not feel them… then he stifled a cry. Melise stayed near, giving him a gentle embrace. It was the most she could do.