Chapter Text
running from the police is hard.
take it from the guy that is currently on the run.
for what you ask? a lot of things honestly, just to list a few; arson, bombings, theft etc.
you know the usual, but right at this moment it's murder.
timothy walker, wanted in 5 states and 3 counties, is currently running down the sidewalk to the most populated area in the city of los angeles.
which just so happens to be the los angeles international speedway.
pushing his way through the crowds into the speedway, timothy somehow managed to escape the police for now. slowing to a walking pace, he slipped into the bathroom to clean the now, dried blood on him.
the bathroom was surprisingly empty. using this to his advantage, timothy cleaned his face, arms and as much as he could off his shirt.
'this is not going to wash out. dam. i really liked this shirt too..' he thought to himself as he looked at his reflection, brown hair with bleached ends, his hair is usually all bleached but he hasn't recently, do to the police finding one of his hideouts. sharp eyeliner around green onyx eyes, olive skin stained slightly red of blood, only noticeable if someone wear to look closely. his once white shirt, reddish with blood as he tried to clean it, to no avail.
looking around timothy spots a yellow sweater in one of the corners. generally not caring if the sweater was dirty or not he puts it on, covering the red stained shirt.
putting up the sweater hood, timothy made his way out of the bathroom to the stadium, the race has yet to start so fans were everywhere. not wanting to be in such a crowded space, tim went to the only place he could think of, the pits.
getting to the pits was easy, getting into the pit area was proving to be difficult. sighing in frustration, tim stepped to the side to think of a plan to get in, only to look up to see the police officers that brought him here talking to a security officer a little ways away.
not wanting to get arrested(again), timothy bolted into the pits. neither security officers there except it, so he managed to get pretty far before they started chasing him.
running around corners, dodging reporters and equipment, tim lost them for a bit. only to run into someone when he looked back.
the shear force of the impact sent tim on his ass. the person he ran into stumbling but managed to stay standing.
"shit, that hurt," the person said holding their head, as it had smacked into timothy's chest before he fell. "you ok man?" the person asked, extending a hand to help him up.
looking up at the stranger for the first time, his heart skipping a beat as looked at the beautiful man before him. blond hair with blue streaks tucked into a low ponytail, hazelnut and blue eyes looking at him with slight concern. he looked heavenly.
"i'm fine," he said, taking his hand and getting up.
"well that's a relief, you've gotta be careful runnin' around here," the man said, picking up a helmet he must of dropped when they collided, "see ya!" he called jogging to a light blue race car that had a long tail-fin like thing, not being someone who knew anything about the sport.
lost in this thoughts, tim almost didn't hear the security and police officers caching up. without thinking, timothy ran to the pretty man.
just having put his helmet on, strip opened the door to his blue 1970 superbird, dinoco stickers and all, when he was shoved in.
hitting his head on the roof and then hitting it on the other door, black spots clouded his vision as a tall man in a yellow shirt (or was it a sweater? he couldn't tell as he faded in and out of consciousness), sat in the driver's seat and floored the gas.
the last thing strip remembered was thinking,
'holy shit, did i just get kidnapped? in my own race car?'