A Formula 1-inspired story of two old friends from two different worlds reconnecting and creating mischief on the way.
(fanfiction, but NOT based on actual people)
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28-year-old Sky Sports commentator, Carter James Gordon, succumb to his injuries two weeks after the fatal crash that has now in total cost six people their lives. Two died on the scene, two later in the hospital, one on the following Friday, and now Carter.
He had been with Sky for 8 years and was one of the top Formula 1 commentators. His Norwegian colleague Olav Kristiansen (from Viasport) is still in the hospital but is getting better, as are the other four of those eight injured.
Carter's family was with him when he passed, and his father James Gordon, says it was peaceful. "My son realized pretty soon after waking up that he wasn't getting better. He could barely speak. He had severe burns. We're all surprised he made it this far. As we move forward we hope that this accident can serve as a reminder and that nothing like this will happen again. None of the lives we lost should have been taken."
There will be a memorial service in Monaco, where Carter was born, as well as a moment of silence at Sky Sports offices. The F1 teams and fans, who had a week off and are now in France, will also have a moment of silence.
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Louisa's POV:
I was with Carter when he passed, holding his hand, crying, trying hard not to cry. It was all a heavy experience, one I wish I never had to witness.
My mother held his other hand, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand, while my father stood behind her, his large hands on her shoulders, telling my brother it was okay. "If you need to go, you go, it's okay. We'll be okay."
It was almost too low to hear, but Carter managed to croak out a low "I love you--all of you--tell--tell Henri--to look--look after--Louisa--." With a final glance at us, he closed his eyes and never opened them again. His breath stopped soon after, and then his heart.
I lifted his bandaged hand, wrapped my small hands around it, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, whispering a barely audible "Au revoir mon frère."
