*****

It was a rare occurrence indeed that one of them finished their own film ahead of schedule, but that was exactly what happened to James that afternoon. He'd gone home to his house in Hammersmith, half-expecting to see a grumbling black and white feline meowing crossly for his dinner - but then he remembered that he never would again, and he had a brief flash of lingering grief for the loss of his cat.

Shaking his head, he'd put his bag and coat on the rack by the front door and immediately gone to the fridge to see if there was any of Sarah's delicious roast left - she'd flown to Moscow that morning for a big ballet production, so he had the house to himself for a few days.

Absent-mindedly, he flicked on the television on his way to the microwave to put in some left-over beef and vegetables. He wasn't really listening - pulling out his mobile when he felt it vibrating incessantly in his pocket - but then his attention was caught by the reporter's utterance of the words "Top Gear" and "accident".

Eyes shooting up from his phone - where he had just opened a rather cryptic message from Andy Wilman that simply said Call me. Now - James stared in horror at the screen; showing a BBC News reporter standing in front of a hospital and the headline Breaking News:Top Gear presenters in horrific accident - Clarkson in critical condition.

Mentally waving away the uncomfortable flashbacks of an eerily similar headline from around four and a half years ago, he started paying a bit more attention to what the reporter was saying.

"It is our understanding that - at around four o'clock this afternoon - a car that Clarkson and Hammond were testing ran into mechanical faults. The car skidded into a lake, where it's believed that both presenters were underwater for nearly three minutes before resurfacing."

Horror made James' blood run cold at this, he was so absorbed in the story that he barely noticed the light ping on the microwave telling him his dinner was ready - he suddenly wasn't very hungry.

"Sources have reported that Clarkson had to be resuscitated at the scene, and was transported to hospital where doctors say he is in a critical condition. We are still awaiting reports on the condition of Richard Hammond - who we believe is still at the scene of the accident being treated by paramedics. We'll bring you updates on this story throughout the bulletin."

Numb. That's the only thing James could feel at that moment as the shock and horror of what he'd just heard started to fully sink in. In that instant, he suddenly felt very nauseous.

Turning his phone back on to his messages, he suddenly understood Andy's message, and he sent a reply of his own.

Where are you? I'm on my way.

Andy's answer came barely a moment later, and once he'd read the location, James was on his feet and grabbing his jacket and bag once more - as well as the keys to the Boxster (the Panda was too recognisable now) - and heading out to his car. 

He had a drive of nearly an hour to get to the location - if he took the long way through the city and back out on the motorway. But James - rather contrary to his other nickname - was aware of a shorter route and, being in the Porsche, he felt he could push the speed limit just slightly.

Such as it was, it only took him half the time to reach the national park where the film was being shot, and he immediately ran into the problem of a gaggle of reporters and TV cameras lining the gates to the park.

The crew member who had been stationed at the gate - none other than Iain May - recognised him immediately and yelled for the pack to part so James could get through. James didn't like the grim look he saw on his friend's face - it made the pit of dread in his stomach intensify to almost nauseating levels.

Not stopping the car for fear of being hounded by reporters, he drove on down the little track and soon came across the lake. It was chaos - crew vans and members running around everywhere; a crane was struggling to pull something very heavy out of the water while a number of men in high-visibility jackets stood back and yelled orders at the poor crane driver; two ambulances parked haphazardly off to the side of the shore, paramedics almost invisible in the growing darkness if not for the reflective writing on their uniforms.

There was no sign of either of his friends, or of Wilman. 

Scrambling out of his car almost as soon as the engine had ceased, James immediately began looking around for Andy.

With relief, he quickly spotted their producer standing at the door to one of the ambulances, talking seriously with a paramedic - who was tidying up some leads on their machine as he exchanged information with Andy.

Dreading what this meant, James began to walk at a forced sedate pace towards the bright yellow vehicle, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat to disguise just how tense the whole sight was making him. Thankfully, Andy spotted him and shot him a grim smile and a half-hearted wave.

This didn't do much to ease James' worry, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

"Wilman" he greeted once he came to a halt beside the older man. "Didn't expect this much excitement this afternoon" he added mildly, trying to lighten the situation.

Andy replied with a tight chuckle, running a minutely-shaking hand through his silver hair. "No, we certainly didn't either."

They were silent for a few moments; Andy reading through texts that seemed to be constantly arriving - it was like his text alert was one long, continuous noise (which was quickly getting irritating, so he wisely muted it and switched to the vibrate option instead) - and James glancing around the mass of people trying to see what was going on amidst the chaos.

"Francie and Mindy?" he queried after a minute or so, glancing back at the producer with worry in his blue eyes.

Andy just nodded, replying quietly "I left a message on Francie's phone - I couldn't reach her, though I suspect she's heard by now. Mindy's on her way down at the moment, with the girls I believe."

James couldn't help but wince at that - he'd completely forgotten about Jeremy and Richard's children. It was easy for Jeremy's kids; they were in their teens (his eldest two in their late teens), and therefore - in theory - it should be a bit easier on them than on Richard's daughters. But Izzy and Willow, only ten and eight, and recent memories still very much very fresh in their young minds.....James definitely didn't envy them at that point.

Probably by sheer coincidence, Andy's phone started to vibrate and the screen showed he was getting a call. They both glanced down at the screen, and Andy swore quietly when he saw Francie's name.

Swiping across to accept the call, their producer put the phone to his ear and greeted with a serious "Francie, hey."

Deciding it would be best to leave the other man to complete this call in private, James made his exit in search of Richard - he couldn't have gone far; something he knew for sure when Andy poked his arm and pointed in the direction of another ambulance a bit further down the shoreline to where they were standing.

Thanking him with a cheerless smile of his own, James started off into the growing twilight of the approaching evening.

*****

Eventually, he reached the hired crew ambulance - the one that they took on every shoot - and saw a dark figure sitting hunched on the back step, while another medic padded some gauze on the side of their head. As he approached, he had to admit he was shocked when he realised that the seated figure wrapped in a thick blanket was actually Hammond - his face was almost unrecogniseable.

Aside from the fairly decent gash on the right side of his forehead tracking down his temple to his cheek, his face was almost ghostly pale with smears of silt and mud on his soaking wet clothes and his neck. Watery blood was dripping from the gash and mixing with the lake water that fell from his hair and that was still on his face, making it look a lot bloodier than James suspected it really was.

His eyes were bloodshot and watery, and James could just make out the remnants of tears shining on his lashes. They held a kind of deep misery and shock that he didn't think he'd ever seen in anyone else's eyes either before or since - it terrified him, to be honest. 

He still hadn't acknowledged James' presence, nor was he really appearing to acknowledge anything - and given how rough the medic beside him was being in cleaning out his wound, this was even more worrying. He just stared at a patch of ground a few feet away, and refused to make eye contact with anyone.

Slowing his pace as he came closer, James could make out the trembles shaking the smaller man's body - whether they were shivers because of the cold or emotional tremors from the shock, he couldn't be sure, but something in his heart broke at the sight.

"Hey you" he greeted in a quiet voice, careful not to startle the younger man. Kneeling in front of his friend, he tried to catch Richard's eye with a sympathetic smile.

It sort of worked - but instead of a smile in return (not that he really expected one, to be fair), all he got was a miserable sniffle and something wet fell onto his hand.

Somehow sensing that maybe they needed to be alone, the medic finished taping the temporary dressing over the gash and made his exit silently. James shot him a grateful smile as he glanced worriedly back over his shoulder at them.

"I'm not going to ask you if you're okay - cause that would be a bit stupid of me" he began, moving to sit beside Richard on the back step of the truck. At the sound of the strangled scoff from the shivering body next to him, he had the sudden urge to pull his friend into his arms and not let go until everything was fixed.

The only thing stopping him was the sneaking suspicion he would be growled at if he even tried.

So he was rather surprised when Richard turned and curled into his chest, burying his head in the crook of James' neck. Responding after only a moment's hesitation, James gently wrapped his arms around him, and his heart broke a little further as he felt something hot and wet dripping onto his collarbone - he didn't need the stifled sobs forcing themselves out of the other man's throat to know that his friend was crying.

"I k-killed him, James" Richard's voice was quite hoarse and rather muffled against James' jacket and neck, but the misery-stricken words still managed to reach the older man's ears. "It was a-all m-m-my f-f-fau-lt. I sh-should-ve st-opp-ped it. And n-now Je-"

Another sob cut into his words, and James instinctively tightened his arms.

As he did so, the sobs were abruptly cut off by a pained hiss, the body in his hold tensing with the noise.

"You alright?" James questioned, letting his arms drop as his worry began to rise once more.

Richard let out a hollow laugh, though the physical pain in his eyes did not go unnoticed by his friend. "Thought you said you weren't gonna ask me that" he retorted haltingly, as if now speaking was painful as well.

"Hammond...." James growled warningly, eyebrows furrowing as his arms crossed over his chest - he was sure his foot would probably be tapping if he'd been standing.

"Alright, alright" the smaller man grumbled, scrubbing a hand across his eyes. "I think I may have done a few ribs when we crashed-"

"You didn't mention that!"

Both of them jumped in surprise at the medic's voice, and they turned their heads to see him and Andy walking towards them, coming to a halt a few feet away. The young, sandy haired medic knelt before his patient with a stern, but kind (and maybe a little exasperated) look in his dark green eyes.

"I was just saying to Andy that my suggestion would be for you to go to hospital as well - cause that cut's gonna need stitches, as well as the water that's no doubt in your lungs - but I'm not suggesting it anymore; it's an order."

James and Andy couldn't help but smile a little as Richard flushed in mild embarrassment.

"Now, before we get going, is there anything else you haven't told me?" The medic continued, raising an eyebrow at his patient with the tiniest hint of a smile.

Richard clearly considered it for a moment, but shook his head, before quietly asking "Do I have to go in the ambulance? Or can I go with James or Andy?"

The medic shrugged. "If you wanna be gawped at by paps as you leave and when you arrive at hospital, by all means go with someone else and I'll follow behind in case anything happens."

Sharing a grimace, they all agreed that was not an ideal situation. Sighing - and wincing again as his broken ribs grated on each other - Richard stood and followed the medic up into the back of the ambulance. The medic's partner saw they were getting ready to leave and quickly jumped into the driver's seat, ready to start the engine on his colleague's word.

Andy nodded back towards where the crew was waiting, and James waved a quick hand as if to say "You go on, I'll be there in a sec." Giving him an understanding smile, Andy turned and left.

Before he followed him, James stepped up into the back of the ambulance and put a hand on Richard's still-damp shoulder.

"I'll see you up there, okay?" His voice was quiet, soft, and very gentle as he let his hand squeeze the limb in its grasp. "It'll be okay, mate. Promise."

Hearing the ambulance's engine start up, James left the cabin with a final squeeze of his friend's shoulder - though he pretended not to notice the tears and the lonely look that filled the dark brown eyes as he shut the sliding door behind him.

*****

TBC......

*****