Bubba Wallace-broken wrist

                                    

                                          
You watched in horror as your boyfriend, Bubba Wallace, got caught up in the big one at Daytona. It was the last lap, the two leaders had taken each other out, everyone behind had nowhere to go and it was one big pile of metal. Bubba hit the wall and spun down onto the grass. 
He managed to keep the car rolling and drove it back onto the track, it was completely smashed and wasn't driving in a complete straight line but you cheered as he crossed the line, you guessed he finished about fifth. He rolled the car around the track and pulled into pit road he stopped next to the ten other cars that managed to make it through. He hadn't said anything on the radio which concerned you as you climbed down from his pit box.
You walk towards his car, watching him as he slowly pulled himself from the car. He seemed to be favouring his left arm but you shrugged it away he didn't seem to be hurt and surely he would have said something over the radio. 
"Hey, good job today, I know it's not the way you wanted it to end but a top five is a great start to the season." You said putting a hand on his shoulder, he smiled a little, but didn't meet you eyes. 
"Yeah I guess, we had a good car tho." He grimaced slightly as he pulled his right glove off with his teeth.
"Gross! What are you doing?" You said and pulled is glove from his mouth and pulled it off for him. Your hold your hand for his left hand, he shakes his head. 
"What's wrong?" You ask confused, he frowns,
"No it's okay I can do it my self." He says and turns away from you, you frown. You turn him back towards you, his face is set in a grimace.
"Okay Bubba don't lie, what's wrong." You ask, he finally seems to put his guard down and a look of pure pain flows onto his face. He holds out his left arm,
"Pretty sure I broke my wrist." He said, you gasp and gently take his arm. 
"I didn't let go of the steering wheel fast enough during the wreck, it snapped around and twisted my wrist, I'm pretty sure I felt something snap." He explained, you grimaced and slowly and carefully undid his glove, 
"I'm going to take it off, okay?" You said he grimaced and nodded, you slowly slid his glove off, Bubba groaned in pain but stayed still. 
At this point a crowd of people had gathered around, watching. Most of Bubbas pit crew was making sure everyone gave you guys space. 
You pushed bubbas first suit sleeve up revealing his swollen and very obviously broken wrist.
"Oh ouch that looks painful." You commented examining it. Bubba groaned again, 
"So it doesn't look like I'm racing next week, does it?" He asked but you could tell he already knew the answer.
"I'm sorry, just be glad it's the beginning of the season." You took you jacket off and fashioned a sling.
"There that should be good till we get you to a hospital." You said and started to lead Bubba away from the car. A bunch of reporters tried to get your guys attention and tried to stop bubba for an interview, but you kept a strong grip on his good arm.
"Y/n I really don't feel good." Bubba whispered, you frown remembering back to the one time you had seen Bubba get hurt, he had dislocated his shoulder a year ago and had felt sick immediately after.
"Yeah, tell me if you need to throw up, we just need to get you to the hospital." You said  helping him over the pit wall, you saw Ryan, Bubba best friend walking towards you.
"Hey you okay? That was a nasty wreck." Ryan said walking up looking concerned, Bubba who was getting paler remained silent so you answered for him.
"Broken wrist, we're heading o the hospital." You explained, he nodded,
"Good plan, don't bother going to the infield care centre they will just send you to the hospital. Keep me updated." He said and patted Bubba on the back and walked away.
"You doing okay." You asked leading Bubba threw the pits,
"No, I don't know what's worse the pain or the fact that all I can see in my head is my wrist." He muttered, Bubba didn't do so good with injuries. 
"I know, I'm sorry I wish there was away it could be me not you." You said, he immediately frowned,
"Absolutely not, I would way rather it be me then you." You laugh at his protectiveness,
"I know but I deal with injuries better and then you would still racing." You explained, he just shook his head.
After a bit you arrived at your bus where your truck was parked, Bubba and you climbed in and you drove to the hospital.
After checking him in, you waited in the waiting room. Bubba was leaning against you,
"I hate hospitals." He mutters,
"Yeah I not fond of them either." You answered, "and what was that about not telling me right away, trying to hide it." You frowned at him.  He shrugged,
"Didn't want you to worry, and wasn't to fond of the idea of being on camera with a broken wrist." He said softly,
"Well if you had continued to hide it then you would have to do interviews and all that press, so you should be happy you got out of it." You ran you fingers threw his curls. 
"Did you just tell me to be happy I have a broken wrist?" He asks dramatically , you roll your eyes. 
Just then a nurse comes in and takes you guys into a room, within five minutes the doctor comes and takes Bubba for X-rays, leaving you alone in the room with your thoughts.
What if something more had happened, he could have broken his neck, been paralyzed for the rest of his life. He could be dead. You shake the dark thoughts away he only broke his wrist, you shouldn't worry to much. 
When Bubba and the doctor come back the doctor shows that Bubba broke his wrist in two different places. Bubba was put in a cast for six weeks and sent home. 
You lavished him in love for the next six weeks knowing he needed some extra since he wasn't allowed to drive for seven weeks, and extra week so he could build some muscle back. 
Seven weeks after Daytona, it was phoenix, Bubbas first race back, he dominated, winning both stages and going on to win the race, with people gushing over his come back, you and him celebrated in victory lane.
A/n: 
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