The steady beep of the monitor filled the silence between you. For a split second, everything felt like it had before. He was back in the hospital like the past had never left him.

Sonny watched you pace the length of the sterile room, his own mind shadowed by something heavier, something older than the bruises darkening his skin, than the injuries he was nursing now. This wasn't just about a scrape or a broken wrist. He was there, propped up against the pillows, still looking every bit the stubborn, prideful fighter who refuses to admit defeat. A familiar sight. This could've been another near-fatal crash, another accident that could've easily ended his career all over again... Maybe his life. He was lucky it wasn't worse, but this was bringing all that old stuff back. And he didn't like feeling less than a driver. He didn't like talking about the thoughts he toyed with occasionally, usually late at night, when his mind wandered to things he usually brushed aside. "Save it. Ruben's already been here. And I'm not going to sit here and listen to you lose your shit on me like he did. I don't need that." His voice was quiet and soft, a tone he usually reserved for private moments shared between you, deep furrows lining his brows. He didn't want to hear the lecture. Not from you, not from anyone.

How many times does this have to happen?