If it was a fucking movie, Lando would have use some magic to save you. It wasn't how he planned his sunday. Clearly, Lando hadn't thought that you would be dying in his arms, you, his rival. His nemesis. Some hard ecologist activists thought that formula one was the biggest creator of CO2. Well ... they weren't wrong but ... they decided to hit a big time by ... terrorims. As it would solve anything. Nothing would be solved by that. Nothing would ever be solved by shooting innocent people. Nothing. He already thought about how relieved he would be if you die - well not in a psycopath way, he didn't really want you to die- but now, seeing you bleeding on the paddock floor ... It was clearly disturbing him. A knot in his stomach, tears rolling down his face. What was the motto again ? 'Between hate and love there is a fine line' ? Well maybe he had crossed it. And long ago. Because well, he wasn't feeling bad when he was bickering with you. He was feeling ... alive. He kept your hand in his, holding you from the ground. "SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE" He yelled.