Starset

Text Messages: Toto Wolff & Stephanie Wolff

Toto:You will have additional security assigned tonight.

Stephanie:That is an interesting greeting.

Toto:This is not optional.

Stephanie:How charming.

Toto: Someone has made credible threats connected to the family. Security will contact you shortly.

Stephanie:Connected to the family.

Toto:Yes.

Stephanie:Which family would that be, Toto? Our children or Anastasia?

Toto:This conversation is about security.

Stephanie:So this is about her.

Toto:This is about credible threats.

Stephanie:Of course. Anastasia has another crisis, and everyone else is expected to rearrange their lives.

Toto:You, Benedict, and Rosa will receive additional protection as a precaution.

Stephanie:My children do not need to be dragged into Anastasia’s drama.

Toto:Benedict and Rosa are my children too.

Stephanie:Funny. You remember that when it gives you a reason to issue orders.

Toto:Security will contact you.

Stephanie:No.

Toto:That was not a request.

Stephanie:And I am not one of your employees.

Toto:No. You are the mother of two of my children. That is the only reason I am even doing this.

Stephanie:Excuse me?

Toto:You heard me.

Stephanie:You arrogant bastard.

Toto:Security arrangements only.

Stephanie:Do not speak to me like I am some inconvenience.

Toto:Then stop behaving like the safety of Benedict and Rosa is an inconvenience because the threat began with Anastasia.

Stephanie:Everything begins with Anastasia, apparently.

Stephanie:Anastasia is upset, so the house must reorganise itself. Anastasia is strange, so everyone must adapt. Anastasia is wounded, so everyone else must be careful. Anastasia wants distance, Anastasia wants exceptions, Anastasia wants silence, Anastasia wants security.

Toto:Enough.

Stephanie:No, Toto. Not enough. Never enough. You never let anyone say it. You never let anyone admit what she did to this family.

Toto:She was eight years old.

Stephanie:She was not eight forever.

Toto:She was a child you resented because you lacked the courage to resent me.

Stephanie:How dare you.

Stephanie:After everything I tolerated?

Toto:You tolerated nothing. You punished a child for existing in a situation I created.

Stephanie:She was never a child in the way normal children are children. She watched everyone. Judged everyone. Like she was above us.

Toto:She watched because she did not feel safe.

Stephanie:And whose fault was that meant to be?

Stephanie:Certainly not hers, I assume. Nothing ever is.

Stephanie:Let me guess. She read something online, panicked, and now everyone needs bodyguards because poor Anastasia cannot cope with the consequences of being publicly attached to famous men.

Toto:Someone sent my daughter death threats.

Do not text me again tonight unless it concerns the security arrangements.

Stephanie:No. You do not get to hide behind that. If this is serious enough to put men outside my home, then I deserve to know whether this is real or another Anastasia overreaction.

Toto:If you call threats to her life and threats of sexual violence an overreaction again, I will stop this conversation and speak only through counsel.

Stephanie:Sexual violence?

Toto:Yes.

Stephanie:From whom?

Toto:That information is not for you.

Stephanie:But I am expected to accept security without knowing anything.

Toto:You are expected to protect Benedict and Rosa.

Stephanie:Do not use the children to control me.

Toto:I am protecting you because you are their mother. That is the only reason you are in this notification chain at all.

Stephanie:You really are vicious when she is involved.

Toto:No. I was too weak when she was involved. I am correcting that.

Stephanie:Oh, how noble. Is this the part where you rewrite history and pretend everything was my fault?

Toto:No.

Stephanie:At least you admit it.

Toto:It was my fault too.

Toto:I should have protected her from you.

Stephanie:From me?

Toto:Yes.

Stephanie:You are unbelievable.

Toto:I am not debating the past with you tonight.

Stephanie:You brought it up.

Toto:You attacked Anastasia.

Stephanie:I said what everyone was too afraid to say.

Toto:No. You said what you have always wanted to say when you thought there would be no consequence.

Stephanie:There is always consequence with her. Always. You made sure of that.

Toto:Security arrangements only.

Stephanie:Stop saying that.

Toto:Then stop trying to use this moment to hurt her.

Stephanie:She is not even reading this.

Toto:No. She is not reading it. That is why I am ending it here.

Stephanie:Convenient.

Toto:Send yours and Rosa’s schedules for the next seventy-two hours. School, activities, transport, drivers, household staff, regular visitors.

Stephanie:You want my household staff list?

Toto:Yes.

Stephanie:Absolutely not.

Toto:Then security coverage will be arranged using the information available, and if there is a gap caused by your refusal, that will be documented.

Stephanie:Do not threaten me.

Toto:I am informing you.

Stephanie:You think documentation scares me?

Toto:No. I think risk to your children does.

Stephanie:Is Rosa specifically at risk?

Toto:There is no specific threat naming Rosa.

Stephanie:Benedict?

Toto:No.

Stephanie:Then why?

Toto:Because the person who made the threats is unstable, has referenced family logic, and may identify people connected to me or Anastasia as pressure points.

Stephanie:Anastasia is not connected to Rosa in any meaningful way.

Toto:She is her sister.

Stephanie:Half-sister.

Toto:Her sister.

Stephanie:Rosa does not see it that way.

Toto:That is your failure and mine.

Stephanie:Do not blame me for Rosa having boundaries.

Toto:Resentment is not a boundary.

Stephanie:You have no idea what Rosa feels.

Toto:I know she has been given permission to make Anastasia the villain of a story she did not write.

Stephanie:You are so blind.

Toto:Security arrangements only.

Stephanie:There it is again.

Toto:Yes.

Stephanie:You are impossible.

Toto:Schedules.

Stephanie:Fine.

Toto:Within twenty minutes.

Stephanie:You are not my employer.

Toto:No. I am the father of Benedict and Rosa. I am acting to protect them because a credible threat may extend to the family. If you continue to obstruct that, I will escalate through the appropriate legal channels.

Stephanie:You would do that?

Toto:Yes.

Stephanie:Over Anastasia.

Toto:Over my children’s safety.

Stephanie:You always know how to phrase things.

Toto:So do you. That is the problem.

Stephanie:Rosa will ask why this is happening.

Toto:Tell her there is a temporary family security concern and i am handling it.

Stephanie:She will ask whether Anastasia caused it.

Toto:Then tell her no.

Stephanie:And if I don’t believe that?

Toto:Then keep your belief away from our daughter.

Stephanie:Our daughter. How touching.

Toto:Stephanie.

Stephanie:What?

Toto:If you tell Rosa that Anastasia caused a man’s threats against her, you will be lying to her. If you imply that Anastasia is to blame, I will not tolerate that.

Stephanie:You will not tolerate.

Toto:Correct.

Stephanie:There he is. The real Toto. Not the guilty father, not the reformed man. Just control.

Toto:Schedules. Twenty minutes.

Stephanie:You really have nothing else to say?

Toto:Not to you.

Stephanie:I will send them.

Toto:Good.

Stephanie:But if you put visible security at Rosa’s school and embarrass her—

Toto:Discreet perimeter and routes. No visible intervention unless necessary.

Stephanie:Does Anastasia know you are doing all this?

Toto:Yes.

Stephanie:She must enjoy it.

Stephanie:All of you running around because she is scared. It must feel very validating.

Toto:You are speaking about a woman who received threats to her life tonight.

Stephanie:A woman now, is she?

Stephanie:How convenient.

Toto:This conversation is over.

Stephanie:Of course it is.

Toto:Send the schedules to the security contact within twenty minutes. Further communication regarding this matter will go through the security team unless it directly concerns Benedict or Rosa.

Stephanie:You always choose her.

Toto:I should have chosen her when she was ten.

***

Text Messages: Toto Wolff & Rosa Wolff

Toto:Rosa, this is important. There is a temporary family security concern. You will have additional security around your movements for the next few days.

Rosa:Seriously?

Toto:Yes.

Rosa:That’s the first thing you text me in months?

Toto:This is not a normal situation.

Rosa:No hi? No how are you? Just security?

Toto:There has been a credible threat connected to the family.

Rosa:Connected to the family.

Toto:Yes.

Rosa:Let me guess.

Rosa:Ana.

Toto:This conversation is about your safety.

Rosa:No, it’s about Ana. It is always about Ana.

Toto:You are receiving security because you are my daughter.

Rosa:Am I?

Rosa:Because you haven’t acted like it lately.

Toto:Rosa.

Rosa:No. Don’t “Rosa” me.

Rosa:You disappear for months, you cut me off, nobody tells me anything, and then suddenly I’m important because Ana has another crisis?

Toto:I did not cut you off. I changed your financial arrangements.

Rosa:Oh my God.

Rosa:Do you hear yourself?

Rosa:“Changed my financial arrangements.”

Rosa:You mean you put me on a trust like I’m a child who can’t be trusted.

Toto:You are on the same trust structure as Ana and Benedict. That was the point. Equal structure. Clear boundaries. No discretionary transfers being used as pressure from either side.

Rosa:That sounds like something Ana would say.

Toto:Ana had nothing to do with the decision.

Rosa:Sure.

Toto:It was my decision.

Rosa:Because of Ana.

Toto:Because of your behaviour.

Rosa:There it is.

Rosa:At least you finally said it.

Toto:You were cruel to your sister.

Rosa:Half-sister.

Toto:She is your sister.

Rosa:She doesn’t act like it.

Toto:How should she act?

Rosa:Like she wants anything to do with us?

Rosa:Like she remembers there were already people here before she arrived and everyone reorganised their lives around her? She comes into our lives, everyone has to tiptoe around her, everyone has to learn her rules, everyone has to pretend she’s not being rude because she’s “overwhelmed” or “processing” or whatever word you all use, and somehow I am the problem?

Toto:Rosa, I am not going to debate Anastasia with you tonight.

Rosa:Of course not. Nobody ever debates Ana. Ana is just right because Ana is clever and damaged and special.

Toto:Stop.

Rosa:Why? Did I say the wrong magic word?

Toto:Do not speak about her like that.

Rosa:Why? She can speak about everyone else however she wants.

Toto:No, she cannot.

Rosa:Yes, she can! She does it in that flat voice and everyone acts like it’s honesty.

Toto:Ana’s directness can hurt. That is true.

Rosa:Wow. Did you just admit she isn’t perfect?

Toto:She is not perfect.

Rosa:Could have fooled me.

Toto:But that does not justify cruelty.

Rosa:You know what is also cruel?

Toto:What?

Rosa:Never telling me anything. Everyone else gets information. Benedict knows things. Ana obviously knows everything because everyone tells Ana everything. But I find things out last.

Toto:You are told what you need to know.

Rosa:Like I’m a child.

Toto:No.

Rosa:Yes.

Rosa:You don’t trust me with anything.

Toto:Rosa, when you found out Susie was adopting Ana, you went to an Instagram gossip page and complained anonymously in their inbox.

Rosa:What?

Toto:You heard me.

Rosa:I didn’t.

Toto:Rosa.

Rosa:You don’t know that was me.

Toto:Yes, I do.

Rosa:How?

Toto:Do you really want the technical answer?

Rosa:That is creepy.

Toto:No. Creepy was my daughter’s private family matter appearing in the inbox of an gossip account before she had even decided whether she wanted anyone outside the family to know.

Rosa:It was anonymous.

Toto:It was still you.

Rosa:I was upset!

Toto:I know.

Rosa:Nobody had told me properly.

Toto:We would have told you before anything became public. 

Rosa:You would have told me like it was already decided.

Toto:It was already decided. Ana is an adult and  Susie is an adult. It was not a committee decision.

Rosa:So I’m untrustworthy now.

Toto:You have broken trust.

Rosa:Because of one comment?

Toto:Because of repeated choices.

Rosa:You act like I sold family secrets.

Toto:You took a private family matter to a gossip page because you wanted strangers to agree with your hurt feelings.

Rosa:Anonymous.

Toto:Public.

Toto:That is why you are not getting details tonight.

Rosa:Because you think I’ll post about it?

Toto:Because I cannot risk it.

Rosa:I wouldn’t.

Toto:I hope that is true.

Rosa:You hope.

Toto:Yes.

Rosa:Wow.

Toto:I am not saying this to punish you. I am saying it because you keep asking why you are not told everything.

Rosa:And your answer is because I’m awful.

Toto:My answer is because information requires trust, and trust has to be rebuilt.

Toto:Security will contact you. Answer the call. Provide your schedule for the next seventy-two hours. School, activities, transport, friends’ houses, anything outside your usual routine.

Rosa:You think I’m going to be attacked?

Toto:I do not have a specific threat against you.

Rosa:Then why?

Toto:Because a dangerous person has threatened one member of the family. Until we know more, precautions are being extended.

Rosa:“One member of the family.”

Toto:Yes.

Rosa:You mean Ana.

Toto:Yes.

Rosa:What happened?

Toto:She received serious threats. Police and security are involved.

Rosa:What kind of threats?

Toto:Serious ones.

Rosa:That is not an answer.

Toto:It is the answer you are getting.

Rosa:Because you don’t trust me.

Toto:I do not trust you with Ana’s private information right now.

Rosa:Because of the Instagram comment.

Toto:Because of that, and because you are currently blaming her for a threat made against her.

Rosa:I didn’t blame her.

Toto:You said it is always about Ana.

Rosa:Because it is.

Toto:She was threatened.

Rosa:I know.

Toto:Do you?

Rosa:I said I know.

Toto:Then do not turn it into evidence that she is taking something from you.

Rosa:Benedict doesn’t talk to me anymore. He doesn’t answer my texts.

Rosa:He speaks to you. He speaks to Susie. He probably speaks to Ana now because everyone has to be on Team Ana.

Toto:Benedict makes his own choices.

Rosa:You could tell him to talk to me.

Toto:I could.

Rosa:But you won’t.

Toto:No. Benedict is allowed to have boundaries.

Rosa:Oh, boundaries.

Rosa:Funny how when Ana avoids us, it’s boundaries. When Benedict avoids me, it’s boundaries. When I don’t want to be around her, it’s resentment.

Toto:Not wanting to be around someone can be a boundary. Blaming them for every consequence in the family is resentment.

Rosa:You don’t understand.

Toto:Then explain it.

Rosa:Benedict used to be mine. Not like that. I know how it sounds. But he was my brother. He was on my side. And now he looks at me the same way he looks at Mama.

Toto:Sometimes you repeat things she taught you.

Rosa:And Ana repeats things you taught her. Cold. Cutting. Always right. Always above everyone because feelings are inefficient.

Toto:Ana learned coldness because warmth was not always safe.

Rosa:And what did I learn?

Toto:You learned things I should have protected you from too.

Toto:I failed Ana. I failed Benedict. I failed you.

Rosa:Don’t.

Toto:It is true.

Rosa:I don’t want your guilt speech.

Toto:This is not a speech.

Rosa:It always becomes one.

Toto:Then I will keep it simple.

Toto:Your money was changed because I will not let money be used to reward cruelty or avoid consequences. It was not done because Ana asked. She did not. Benedict not speaking to you is Benedict’s decision. I will not force him. You are not receiving details tonight because you have broken trust with private family information before. The security is not punishment. It is because you are my daughter and I will protect you whether you are angry at me or not.

Rosa:Did she really get threatened?

Toto:Yes.

Rosa:Badly?

Toto:Yes.

Rosa:By who?

Toto:I am not sharing that.

Rosa:Because you don’t trust me.

Toto:Because it is an active security matter and Ana’s private information.

Rosa:Does Benedict know?

Toto:He will receive the same safety information. Not the details.

Rosa:So I’m not the only one being treated like a child.

Toto:No.

Rosa:Great.

Rosa:Is she okay?

Toto:No.

Rosa:Is she hurt?

Toto:Not physically.

Rosa:Is Jack there?

Toto:Yes. Susie had just picked him up from school. They came over. He knows only that there is a security concern and Ana is not physically hurt.

Rosa:He shouldn’t be around this.

Toto:He is not hearing details.

Rosa:Still.

Rosa:Jack loves her.

Toto:Yes.

Rosa:Everyone loves her.

Toto:Many people love you too.

Rosa:Not Benedict.

Toto:Benedict loves you. He is probably hurt and angry.

Rosa:Because I was mean to Ana.

Toto:Because you were cruel and refused to acknowledge it.

Rosa:I don’t know how to fix it.

Toto:Start by not making what happened tonight Ana’s fault.

Rosa:I didn’t say it was.

Rosa:Do I really need security?

Toto:Yes.

Rosa:Will they be obvious?

Toto:No. Discreet. Routes and perimeter. You will not be embarrassed at school or activities unless there is an emergency.

Rosa:I’m not a child.

Toto:I know.

Rosa:You keep saying things like school and schedule like I’m twelve.

Toto:University. Movements. Transport. Any place you will be outside your flat.

Rosa:Thank you.

Toto:Send your schedule, please.

Rosa:Mum already is.

Toto:Send yours too.

Rosa:Why?

Toto:Because your mother may edit.

Rosa:Fair.

Rosa: I’ll send it.

Toto: Thank you.

***

Text Messages: Toto Wolff & Benedict Wolff

Toto:Benedict, there is a temporary family security concern. You will have additional security around your movements for the next few days.

Benedict:Hello to you too.

Toto:Hello.

Benedict:That somehow made it worse.

Toto:I am sorry.

Benedict:Okay. What happened?

Toto:Ana received serious threatening messages tonight. Police and security are involved. We are extending precautions to the family.

Benedict:Is Ana okay?

Toto:She is not physically hurt.

Benedict:That is a terrible answer.

Toto:Yes.

Toto:Security will contact you shortly. Please answer the call and provide your schedule for the next seventy-two hours.

Benedict:No.

Toto:No?

Benedict:No security.

Toto:This is not optional.

Benedict:It is if I refuse to cooperate.

Toto:Benedict.

Benedict:Papa.

Benedict:I am literally seeing nothing but my apartment and my workplace anyway.

Toto:That is not as reassuring as you think it is.

Benedict:It should be.

Toto:It is not.

Benedict:I do not go out. I do not meet people. I take the same route. I park underground. I go upstairs. I work. I come back. There is very little to secure.

Toto:Benedict, why are you only seeing your apartment and your workplace?

Benedict:Because I have a job.

Toto:That is not what I asked.

Benedict:It is the answer.

Toto:No. It is a deflection.

Toto:Answer the question.

Benedict:I am tired.

Toto:Of what?

Benedict:Everything.

Toto:Can you be more specific?

Benedict:Not really.

Toto:Try.

Benedict:Work is easy.

Toto:And everything else is not.

Benedict:Yes.

Toto:Is this about Rosa?

Benedict:Partly.

Toto:She told me you do not answer her texts.

Benedict:I know.

Toto:She is hurt.

Benedict:I know.

Toto:Are you?

Benedict:Yes.

Toto:Because of what she said about Ana?

Benedict:Because of what she keeps saying. Because she acts like if she says it nicely enough, it is not cruel.

Toto:You are allowed not to answer her.

Benedict:I know.

Benedict:It does not feel good.

Toto:No.

Benedict:She thinks I chose Ana.

Toto:Did you?

Benedict:I chose not to pretend Rosa did not mean it.

Toto:That is a difference.

Benedict:Apparently not to her.

Toto:No.

Benedict:Or to Mama.

Toto:Your mother has her own version of events.

Benedict:That is a diplomatic way to say she lies.

Toto:Security.

Benedict:No.

Toto:Benedict. Please.

Toto:Would a discreet exterior watch be acceptable?

Benedict:At my apartment?

Toto:Yes. And a route assessment. No one inside. No one following you visibly. No contact unless there is a concern.

Benedict:That sounds like you already reduced the plan because you knew I would say no.

Toto:I know my children.

Toto: Will you accept that?

Benedict: Only exterior.

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Max: I don’t think anything is going to happen, but I am sending security.

Victoria: What?

Max: To you.

Victoria: Max.

Victoria: What the fuck is going on?

Max: Nothing probably.

Victoria: You cannot say “nothing probably” after “I am sending security.”

Max: I can.

Victoria: No, you absolutely cannot.

Victoria: Max Emilian.

Max:Do not do that.

Victoria:I will do worse if you do not explain in the next ten seconds!

Max:There was a thing.

Victoria:A THING?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Is Ana okay?

Max:Physically yes.

Victoria:Max.

Victoria:What happened?!

Max:She got threatening messages.

Victoria:From who?

Max:Probably George.

Victoria:Russell?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:George Russell is sending Ana threats?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Isn’t he under house arrest?

Max:Apparently not under house arrest enough.

Victoria:Jesus Christ.

Victoria:What kind of threats?

Max:Bad ones.

Victoria:Max.

Max:Death threats. Baku. Other things.

Victoria:Other things?

Max:I am not typing it.

Victoria:Okay.

Victoria:Okay, fine.

Victoria:Is she safe?

Max:Yes. Nikolai is here. Toto and Susie are here. 

Victoria:You are the worst communicator in the world.

Max:I am communicating now.

Victoria:You opened with “I don’t think anything is going to happen but I am sending security to you.”

Max:Yes.

Victoria:That is how people in thrillers get told to leave the country!

Max:You do not need to leave the country.

Victoria:Thank you, how reassuring.

Max:But there will be someone near the house tonight.

Victoria:Near my house?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Max.

Max:And probably the school route tomorrow.

Victoria:THE SCHOOL ROUTE?

Max:Just to check.

Victoria:For my children?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Max, you need to explain like I am a normal person and not GP receiving half a strategy message at 300 kilometres per hour.

Max:Ana thinks George could use family as pressure points.

Victoria:Ana thinks that?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Then why did you start with “I don’t think anything is going to happen”?

Max:Because I don’t.

Victoria:But Ana does?

Max:She thinks risk should be assessed.

Victoria:That means Ana is worried.

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Max.

Max:What?

Victoria:How bad is she?

Max:She is calm.

Victoria:Max.

Max:Too calm.

Victoria:Okay.

Victoria:I’m sorry.

Max:She nearly had a panic attack.

Victoria:Oh, Max.

Max:She is better now.

Victoria:That does not mean okay.

Max:I know.

Victoria:How are you?

Max:Fine.

Victoria:Try again.

Max:I want to kill him.

Victoria:I know.

Max:Nikolai said no.

Victoria:Nikolai is correct.

Victoria:So security is for me because George might escalate?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Does he know about me?

Max:Probably.

Victoria:That is not reassuring.

Max:He knows I have family.

Victoria:Everyone knows you have family, Max.

Max:Yes.

Victoria:What about Mum?

Max:Also security.

Victoria:Pa?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:You are sending security to all of us?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:And you opened with “nothing probably.”

Max:I did not want you to panic.

Victoria:How did you think that would work?

Max:Badly.

Victoria:At least you are self-aware.

Max:I am trying.

Victoria:I know.

Max:The security people will be discreet.

Victoria:Are they already coming?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Of course they are.

Max:You should not argue with them.

Victoria:I am not the one who argues with security.

Max:You are a Verstappen.

Victoria:You are the Verstappen who argues with security.

Max:Do not let the kids be scared.

Victoria:I won’t.

Max:Just say it is because people are being annoying.

Victoria:Max.

Max:What?

Victoria:My children know what security is.

Max:Toto wanted Ana not to go to COTA.

Victoria:Reasonable.

Max:She said no.

Victoria:Also reasonable.

Max:That is what I said.

Victoria:You sided against Toto?

Max:No.

Victoria:Max.

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Did he look like he wanted to murder you?

Max:Ana says she is not letting George stop her from doing her job.

Victoria:Good for her.

Max:I think so.

Victoria:You sound worried.

Max:I am worried.

Victoria:Because of COTA?

Max:Because she is scared and still going.

Victoria:Those can both be true.

Max:I know.

Victoria:You hate that.

Max:Yes.

Victoria:You cannot lock her in the house.

Max:I know.

Victoria:Or buy the whole paddock.

Max:I could.

Victoria:Max.

Max:I know.

Victoria:Do not buy the whole paddock.

Max:It is probably not for sale.

Victoria:That was not the point.

Max:Fine.

Victoria:Is she there with you now?

Max:Yes.

Victoria:Can I text her?

Max:Maybe later.

Victoria:Okay.

Max:Not because she doesn’t want you.

Victoria:I know.

Max:She is just… full.

Victoria:I know, Max.

Max:I can tell her you love her.

Victoria:Please do.

Max:She knows.

Victoria:Tell her anyway.

Max:Okay.

Victoria:And tell her she is not being paranoid.

Max:Everyone has said that.

Victoria:Say it again.

Max:Okay.

Victoria:And tell her I will not argue about security.

Max:That is good.

Victoria:And tell her if anyone tries to hurt her, I will become very unpleasant.

Max:I believe it.

Victoria:Good.

Max:Are you okay?

Victoria:No.

Victoria:But I will be.

Max:I am sorry.

Victoria:This is not your fault.

Max:It feels like it is.

Victoria:Of course it does. Because you love her and because Baku happened to you.

Max:He is a threat to you because of me.

Victoria:No. He threatened Ana because he is dangerous. Ana would say that, wouldn’t she?

Max:She did.

Victoria:Then listen to the woman you are marrying.

Victoria:I love you.

Max:Love you too.

Victoria:And Max?

Max:Yes?

Victoria:Do not open conversations with “I don’t think anything is going to happen but I am sending security” ever again.

Max:What should I say?

Victoria:“Something happened. You are safe. I am sending security as a precaution. I will explain.”

Max:That is long.

Victoria:It is also not psychotic.

***

Group Chat:    “TEAM 33”

(Members:  Max Verstappen, Jos Verstappen, Raymond Vermeulen)

Max:George sent messages.

Jos:What?

Max:Pa, you are getting security.

Jos:What the hell does that mean?

Raymond:Max.

Max:What?

Raymond:Context.

Max:I gave context.

Raymond:You gave two fragments and a panic attack.

Jos:What messages?

Max:Threats.

Jos:Threats to who?

Max:Ana.

Jos:George Russell sent threats to Ana?

Max:Yes.

Jos:From house arrest?

Max:Apparently.

Jos:What kind of threats?

Max:Death threats. References to Baku. Some related to his prior behaviour toward Ana. Police and lawyers are involved. 

Jos:Prior behaviour?

Max:George had a thing about Ana. You know he kissed her against her will earlier this year. He thought if he was with Toto’s daughter, he could keep his seat.

Jos:With her?

Max:Yes.

Jos:But she was with you.

Max:George did not know that.

Raymond:Can we return to the security issue?

Jos: I do not need security.

Max:You are getting it.

Jos:I said I do not need security.

Max:I do not care. You are getting it. 

Jos:Max.

Jos:You think George Russell is coming for me?

Max:I don’t know.

Jos:Then why send security?

Max:Because Ana thinks he could use family as pressure points.

Jos:Ana thinks that?

Max:Yes.

Jos:Then why are we arguing?If Ana says security, send security.

Raymond:That is the first sensible thing you said in this chat.

Jos:How is she?

Max:Not okay.

Jos:And you?

Max:Same as before.

Jos:That is not an answer.

Max:I have the broken leg still. I am angry, limited in movement, and being prevented from committing crimes.

Jos:By who?

Max:Everyone. Mostly Nikolai.

Jos:Good.

Max:Not good.

Raymond:Very good.

Jos:Listen to Nikolai.

Raymond:Does this change things for Wednesday?

Jos:What is Wednesday? I thought the meeting about the GT3 cars was tomorrow. 

Max:It is tomorrow. I am meeting Gerhard Berger on Wednesday.

Jos:Gerhard wants to meet you? You agreed?!

Max:Yes.

Jos:No.

Max:I did not ask.

Jos:No.

Max:Again, did not ask.

Jos:You are not meeting him.

Max:I said I would hear him out.

Jos:You said that before George started threatening Ana. Cancel.

Max:No.

Jos:Are you insane?

Max:Maybe.

Raymond:Let’s avoid diagnosing each other in writing.

Jos:Stay out of it.

Jos:Max, listen to me. You do not sit in a room with Red Bull leadership the day after your fiancée gets death threats about Baku.

Max:Pa. This has nothing to do with George Russell. Neutral ground. Wednesday morning. No surprises. Nikolai knows. Toto knows. Ana will probably come.

Jos:You should not meet him at all.

Max:I want to know what he says.

Jos:Why?

Max:Because I do.

Jos:Red Bull nearly got you killed. They put out that line about driver error. They let people say you made a mistake.

Jos:And now George is sending threats to Ana because in his crazy head this all started with her, and you want to give Gerhard Berger a polite little meeting?

Max:It will not be polite.

Jos:Good. Then I’ll come.

Max:No.

Jos:Yes.

Max:Absolutely not.

Jos:You need someone there who is not trying to be diplomatic.

Raymond:That is precisely why you will not be there.

Jos:Raymond.

Raymond:No.

Max:I am not accepting an apology unless I want to, and listening does not create an obligation.

Jos:Fine.

Jos:But I still think it is stupid.

Jos:Do not let Berger talk you into forgiving Red Bull.

Max:I won’t.

Jos:Do not let him make this sound like business.

Max:I won’t.

Jos:Do not let him make you feel bad for leaving.

Max:I won’t.

Jos:Good.

Jos:And Max?

Max:Yes?

Jos:You protect Ana. But let people protect you too.

Jos:Tell Ana I am sorry this happened.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Sophie Kumpen

Sophie:Max.

Max:Yes?

Sophie:Victoria just texted me.Do you want to explain why your sister has informed me that I am “getting security” tonight?

Max:Because you are getting security tonight.

Sophie:Max.

Max:What?

Sophie:I am going to need you to try again.

Max:Something happened. You are safe. I am sending security as a precaution. I will explain.

Sophie:Did Victoria make you rehearse that?

Max:Yes.

Sophie:What happened?

Max:George sent threatening messages to Ana.

Sophie:George Russell?

Max:Yes.

Sophie:Jesus Christ.

Sophie:Is she okay?

Max:Physically yes.

Sophie:I hate that qualifier.

Max:Me too.

Sophie:How bad?

Max:Bad.

Sophie:Max.

Max:Death threats. Baku. Other things I am not typing.

Sophie:Okay.

Sophie:Okay, I understand.

Sophie:Is she safe?

Max:Yes. Security is here. Toto and Susie are here. Police and lawyers are involved.

Sophie:Good.

Sophie:And you?

Max:I am here.

Sophie:That is not an answer.

Max:It is the answer I have.

Sophie:Why am I getting security?

Max:Ana thinks George could use family as pressure points.

Sophie:Ana thinks that?

Max:Yes.

Sophie:Then I’m not arguing.

Max:That is what Pa said.

Sophie:Jos agreed to security?

Max:Because Ana said it.

Sophie:Of course.

Max:Everyone listens to Ana when she is worried.

Sophie:Because Ana being worried means the rest of us should have been worried twenty minutes ago.

Sophie:Does he know about Ana and you?

Max:No.

Sophie:Are you sure?

Max:The messages suggest he does not.

Sophie:That somehow makes this worse. This is not about jealousy. It is about entitlement.

Max:Yes.

Sophie:I’m so sorry.

Max:It is not your fault.

Sophie:I know. I’m still sorry.

Sophie:What do you need me to do?

Max:Answer the security call.

Sophie:Obviously.

Max:Do not argue.

Sophie:Unlike you, I understand instructions.

Max:They will be discreet.

Sophie:Okay.

Max:Maybe exterior tonight and route assessment tomorrow.

Sophie:Okay.

Max:Pa also agreed. He wanted to come to the Gerhard meeting.

Sophie:The what meeting?

Max:Nothing.

Sophie:Max Emilian Verstappen.

Max:Don’t.

Sophie:What Gerhard meeting?

Max:Small meeting.

Sophie:With Gerhard Berger?

Max:Yes.

Sophie:About Baku?

Max:Probably.

Sophie:Tomorrow?

Max:Wednesday.

Sophie:Max.

Max:It is controlled.

Sophie:That is not an answer.

Max:I am not meeting him alone.

Sophie:Good.

Max:I am only listening.

Sophie:Listening does not mean forgiving.

Max:That is what Toto said.

Sophie:Toto and I agree.

Sophie:You sound tired.

Max:I am fine.

Sophie:Try again.

Max:I am tired.

Sophie:And angry.

Max:Yes.

Sophie:And scared.

Max:Yes.

Sophie:Okay.

Max:I hate it.

Sophie:I know.

Max:I hate that he can reach her.

Sophie:I know.

Max:I hate that he did this because she said no.

Sophie:Max.

Max:Yes?

Sophie:Let the police and lawyers handle George.

Max:I know.

Sophie:Let Ana decide what she needs from you.

Max:I am trying.

Sophie:Good.

Sophie:Security can call me anytime. I will answer.

Max:Thank you.

Sophie:Do not thank me for accepting protection because someone threatened your fiancée.

Max:Still. Thank you.

***

Text Messages: Toto Wolff & Freya Wolff

Toto:Where are you?

Freya:That is a rude way to begin a conversation.

Toto:Freya.

Freya:Currently?

Toto:Yes.

Freya:Sri Lanka.

Toto:Why are you in Sri Lanka?

Freya:Sapphires.

Toto:Of course.

Freya:You say that like sapphires source themselves.

Toto:I need to send security to you.

Freya:No.

Toto:That was not a question.

Freya:It was also not a reasonable sentence.

Toto:You are getting security.

Freya:No, I am not.

Toto:Freya.

Freya:Torger.

Toto:This is serious.

Freya:It usually is when you forget manners.

Toto:George Russell sent threats to Anastasia.

Freya:What kind of threats?

Toto:Death threats. Threats involving Baku. Other threats.

Freya:Other threats.

Toto:Yes.

Freya:Do I want to know?

Toto:No.

Freya:Is she hurt?

Toto:Physically, no.

Freya:Where is she?

Toto:With Max. I am here. Susie is here. 

Freya:Good.

Toto:She asked for security for the rest of the family.

Freya:Of course she did.

Toto:You say that like you agree.

Freya:I agree with Ana’s threat assessment. I do not agree with being followed around by a man in bad shoes while I am looking at gemstones.

Toto:The shoes are not the issue.

Freya:They will become the issue if I have to look at them for twelve hours.

Toto:Freya.

Freya:Toto.

Toto:You are in Sri Lanka sourcing sapphires after a man under house arrest managed to send threats to my daughter.

Freya:Your daughter is significantly more likely to murder a man with a spreadsheet than I am to be kidnapped over sapphires.

Toto:This is not funny.

Freya:I know.

Freya:I am making it funny because otherwise I will think too much about Ana reading those messages.

Freya:Is your super scary bodyguard with her?

Toto:Yes.

Freya:Then she is safer than almost anyone else on the planet.

Toto:That does not mean enough.

Freya:No. It does not.

Toto:You see why I am sending security.

Freya:I see why you are trying.

Toto:Freya.

Freya:I am not having a bodyguard in gem markets.

Toto:Yes, you are.

Freya:No, I am not.

Toto:Do you understand what “credible threat” means?

Freya:Do you understand what “I have been doing this job for twenty years” means?

Toto:This is not about your job.

Freya:Everything is about my job when I am standing in the middle of it.

Toto:Where exactly are you?

Freya:Not telling you if you are going to air-drop a security team onto my head.

Toto:I already know enough to find you.

Freya:That is threatening.

Toto:Good.

Freya:You are becoming very paternal.

Toto:I am your older brother.

Toto:Security does not need to interfere with your sourcing. One person. Discreet. Local. Good shoes if that matters so much.

Freya:It does.

Freya:No hovering.

Toto:Fine.

Freya:No speaking unless spoken to.

Toto:That is not how security works.

Freya:It is how my security will work.

Toto:Freya.

Freya:I am negotiating.

Toto:You are being difficult.

Freya:Family trait.

Toto:Anastasia is worried about you.

Freya:That was manipulative.

Toto:Yes.

Freya:You used the child.

Toto:She is twenty-seven.

Freya:She is still the child when you are being emotionally criminal.

Toto:Will you accept security?

Freya:I dislike you.

Toto:Will you accept security?

Freya:One person.

Toto:Thank you.

Freya:Local.

Toto:Yes.

Freya:Discreet.

Toto:Yes.

Freya:If he wears ugly shoes, I send him back.

Toto:Fine.

Freya:And you tell Anastasia I am perfectly safe and extremely annoyed.

Toto:I will tell her.

Freya:No, tell her exactly that. Perfectly safe. Extremely annoyed. It will reassure her.

Toto:I will.

Freya:How is Max?

Toto:Furious.

Freya:Obviously.

Toto:Injured.

Freya:Still?

Toto:Broken legs do not resolve over a weekend.

Freya:I know that. I meant emotionally.

Toto:Also furious.

Freya:Useful?

Toto:Trying to be.

Freya:Good boy.

Toto:Do not say that to him.

Freya:I absolutely will.

Toto:He has enough problems.

Freya:Max Verstappen can survive being called a good boy by his future aunt.

Toto:Speaking of that.

Freya:Oh?

Toto:The wedding date is set.

Freya:You are telling me this now?

Toto:It has been a complicated day.

Freya:You told me about death threats, security, George Russell, Baku, and ugly-shoe bodyguards before telling me my niece has a wedding date?

Toto:Yes.

Freya:When?

Toto:20 December.

Freya:This year?

Toto:Yes.

Freya:Of course this year. Why give anyone time to breathe?

Toto:It suits them.

Freya:That means it suits Ana, or Max bought an island and declared it suitable?

Toto:Both.

Freya:Ah.

Toto:Isle of Eriska. Scotland.

Freya:Private island?

Toto:Yes.

Freya:He must be unbearable.

Toto:He is very focused on access control.

Freya:Romance, Verstappen style.

Toto:Ana likes the island.

Freya:Then it is perfect.

Toto:Can you come?

Freya:I’ll do my best to be there.

Toto:She would like you there.

Freya:Do not do that twice in one conversation.

Toto:It is true.

Freya:I know it is true. That is why it is manipulative.

Toto:Will you come?

Freya:I said I’ll do my best.

Freya:And if I come, I am bringing something.

Toto:Freya.

Freya:Do not start.

Toto:No enormous gemstones.

Freya:You are boring.

Wolff Residence, Monaco - 13 October 2025

Toto Wolff was in the middle of reading an email when Nikolai Maroz called.

That was the first warning.

Nikolai did not call unless the matter required immediacy. He texted when something required record. He briefed when something required strategy. He appeared silently when something required prevention.

A call meant an event was already in motion.

Toto looked at the name on the screen, and the part of him that had survived decades of Formula One, corporate warfare, and fatherhood went very still.

He answered before the second ring. “Yes.”

Nikolai did not waste time. “Where are you?”

Toto was already standing. “Home. Monaco.”

“Are you alone?”

The air changed.

Toto’s hand tightened around the phone. “Yes.”

“Dr. Wolff received multiple threatening messages from an unknown number approximately ten minutes ago.”

For one second, Toto heard nothing.

Not silence.

Nothing.

Then the world came back with too much detail.

The soft hum of the air-conditioning. The weight of the phone in his hand. The desk under his knuckles. The unread email open on his laptop. The Monaco light outside the window, sharp and indifferent.

“What kind of threats?” he asked.

His voice did not sound like his.

It sounded like something that had been placed under glass.

Nikolai paused.

Not because he was hesitant.

Because he was deciding how much of the horror to compress into one sentence.

“Death threats. Threats referencing Baku. Sexual threats. Language indicates George Russell.”

Toto’s vision narrowed.

George Russell.

For a moment, he saw the boy he had hired.

No.

Not boy.

Man.

A man he had once trusted with machinery, contracts, access, rooms, staff, reputation. A man who had sat in meetings with Anastasia. A man who had watched her work. A man who had put his hands on his daughter once already and called it whatever entitled men called violence when they wanted to survive the consequences.

A man who was supposed to be contained.

Toto’s voice dropped. “Is Anastasia safe?”

“Physically, yes. She is with Verstappen. I am with them.”

“Is Max safe?”

“Yes. Angry. Limited mobility. Contained.”

Under other circumstances, Toto might have laughed at that description.

He did not.

“How is Anastasia?”

There was a fraction of silence.

That fraction told Toto more than he wanted to know.

“She nearly had a panic attack,” Nikolai said. “She is coming down. She is responsive. She has not replied to the messages. Screenshots taken. I have the device secure.”

Toto closed his eyes.

His daughter, in her house, with her phone in her hand and George Russell reaching through the screen to put his voice back inside her life.

His daughter, who had only just sat with him under Scottish stars and said, You stayed.

His daughter, who had gone to Paris that morning for a wedding dress.

A wedding dress.

Toto opened his eyes.

“When?” he asked.

“The most recent message came three minutes ago.”

“Is the number active?”

“Yes.”

“Do not block.”

“I know.”

“Do not delete.”

“I know.”

“Preserve everything.”

“I have.”

“Does she know it is George?”

“She believes it is. So do I.”

“What did he say about Baku?”

Another pause.

Toto’s hand closed around the edge of the desk hard enough that pain flashed across his palm.

“Nikolai.”

“He implied he would not have needed Baku if she had let him ‘fix’ her. He frames the loss of his seat as her fault. He does not appear to know about her relationship with Verstappen.”

Toto stopped breathing.

Then, quietly, “Repeat that.”

“No.”

Toto went very still.

Nikolai’s voice was calm. “You heard me. You do not need it repeated while you are alone and about to get into a car.”

There were very few people in the world who could speak to Toto Wolff like that and survive it.

Nikolai Maroz was one of them.

Not because Toto lacked authority over him. Technically, he employed him.

Because years ago, Toto had handed Nikolai the task of protecting Ana at Cambridge and Nikolai had performed it without drama, without ego, without making her feel hunted by the protection itself. 

Ana trusted him. Not easily, not completely, because Ana trusted almost no one easily or completely. But she trusted him enough that when her life narrowed, his voice could still reach her.

That mattered more than hierarchy.

Toto forced air into his lungs.

“I am coming.”

“I know.”

“Does she know you called me?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“She objected initially. Verstappen corrected her.”

Despite everything, a violent little flicker of gratitude moved through Toto’s chest.

Max.

Broken leg, explosive temper, catastrophic impatience, and somehow still the person who could look at Ana while the world burned and say the thing she needed to hear.

Good.

“Mr. Wolff.”

Toto paused at the door of his office.

“What?”

“Breathe before you come in.”

For one second, the fury in Toto rose so sharply it almost became speech.

Then he thought of Anastasia.

Not okay. But here.

He inhaled.

“I will try,” he said.

Nikolai made a sound that suggested the bar was on the floor and Toto was still not guaranteed to clear it.

“Do that.”

The call ended.

Toto stood in his office for one second.

Two.

Then he picked up his keys.

He was halfway to the lift when his phone rang again.

Susie.

For a moment, he stared at her name.

She had picked Jack up from school. She would be on the way back to the apartment or possibly already downstairs with Jack..

He answered.

“Toto?”

Her voice was warm with movement, distracted in the way it became when Jack was near her.

He could hear traffic behind her. Jack talking in the background about something involving a beetle. The normal world. Their son’s small, bright, ordinary day pressing against the impossible thing Toto had to say.

“Toto?” Susie repeated, sharper now.

He stopped walking. “There has been a security incident.”

The background noise seemed to drop away.

Susie’s voice changed immediately. “Ana?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“George sent messages.”

A pause.

Not confusion.

Containment.

Susie had always been faster than most people gave her credit for. Her mind moved cleanly under pressure. It was one of the reasons Toto had fallen in love with her and one of the reasons, at times, she terrified him.

“What kind of messages?” she asked.

Toto closed his eyes.

Beside Susie, Jack’s voice said, muffled but clear, “Mama, is it about Ana?”

Toto’s chest tightened.

Susie must have moved the phone slightly away from her mouth because her voice softened. “One second, darling.”

Then she came back. “Toto. What kind of messages?”

“Threats.”

“What kind?”

He did not want to say it.

Not to Susie.

Not with Jack close enough to hear tone if not words.

But Susie would not accept anything less than truth. Not here. Not for Ana.

“Death threats,” he said. “Sexual threats. Baku. Nikolai believes it is George. Ana does too.”

The silence on the line was absolute.

Then Susie said, very quietly, “Where is she?”

“The house. Nikolai is with her. Max is with her.”

“How is she?”

“She nearly had a panic attack.”

Susie exhaled once.

It was not a sob. It was worse. Controlled fury entering the body and finding nowhere civilized to go.

“Where are you?”

“Leaving home.”

“We are going over now.”

Toto’s eyes opened. “Susie—”

“No.”

The word was flat.

Final.

“Susie, Jack is with you.”

“I know Jack is with me. I picked him up from school. He is my son. He is also Ana’s brother. We are going over.”

“He does not need to hear—”

“He will not hear the details,” Susie cut in. “But he already knows we sometimes have security for reasons. He knows Ana and Max have extra people around right now because of Baku. He knows enough to understand when adults lie to him, and I am not doing that.”

Toto pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead.

She was right. Of course she was right.

That did not make it any easier.

“Put me on speaker, please,” Toto said.

A rustle.

Then Susie’s voice, clearer and slightly distant. “You’re on speaker. Jack is here.”

Jack’s voice came quickly. “Papa?”

Toto shut his eyes again. Kept his voice steady. “Yes, kleiner Mann.”

“Is Ana hurt?”

There it was.

The only question that mattered to a child.

“No,” Toto said immediately. “Ana is not physically hurt.”

Jack was quiet for a second.

Too smart. Too used to adults choosing words carefully.

“Physically means her body,” Jack said.

“Yes.”

“So something else happened.”

Toto opened his eyes. In the reflection of the lift doors, his own face looked like a stranger’s. “Yes,” he said. “Someone sent her very frightening messages.”

Jack was silent.

Then: “A bad person?”

Toto’s hand curled at his side.

“Yes.”

Susie’s voice was soft. “A person who is not behaving safely.”

Jack absorbed this with the terrible seriousness of a child who had grown up around adults who sometimes used words like security protocol over breakfast because Formula One life was strange.

“Is Nikolai there?” Jack asked.

Toto’s throat tightened. “Yes.”

“Then she has security.”

“Yes,” Toto said. “Nikolai is handling security.”

Jack was quiet again.

Then, very carefully, “Are we allowed to go to her?”

Toto looked at the closed lift doors.

He thought of Ana at Cambridge, younger and sharper and pretending she did not care that he had hired Nikolai. He thought of Jack at three, pressing a handmade birthday card into Ana’s hands, and Ana going upstairs to throw up because love had arrived too suddenly for her body to tolerate. He thought of how fiercely Jack loved her, in the open, with no embarrassment at all.

“Yes,” Toto said. “We are going.”

“Do I have to be quiet?”

Susie answered before Toto could. “You have to be gentle, darling. Quiet if Ana needs quiet. Normal if Ana needs normal.”

“Which one will she need?”

Toto’s chest ached.

“I don’t know,” Susie said. “So we will ask.”

Jack seemed to consider that.

“Can I bring Coco?”

Toto looked up at the ceiling.

There were moments in parenting when the heart did not break so much as become too large for the body trying to hold it.

Susie’s voice trembled only slightly when she said, “Yes. Bring Coco.”

“She is in my school bag.”

“Good.”

Toto heard car door sounds.

Susie said, “We are getting in the car now.”

“I will meet you there.”

“No,” Susie said. “You will not meet us there. You will drive safely and arrive after us if necessary.”

“I am closer.”

“Toto.”

He stopped.

“Do not make me worry about you crashing the car while I am trying to worry about Ana,” she said.

There was fury under it.

Fear too.

Love, unfortunately, for him.

“I will drive safely,” he said.

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“Do not arrive like a thunderstorm.”

“That may not be possible.”

“Try.”

He thought of Nikolai’s instruction.

Breathe before you come in.

Everyone kept giving him the same order.

This was irritating. Probably useful.

“I will try,” he said.

Susie was quiet for half a second.

Then, softer, “We are going to her.”

“Yes.”

“And when we get there,” Susie said, voice sharpening again, “you are not going to make this about your guilt. You are not going to make her reassure you. You are not going to walk in there looking like you might kill someone unless Nikolai physically restrains you.”

Toto hesitated.

“Toto.”

“I will try.”

“That is not good enough.”

He breathed in.

Out.

“She needs me calm,” he said.

“Yes.”

“She needs us calm. She needs to know he cannot reach her. She needs to know this is not her fault.”

Susie’s voice softened.

“Yes.”

Toto opened his eyes.

“Then I will be calm.”

“You can be furious later.”

“I will be furious later too.”

“I know.”

Toto did not answer.

Susie said, “He touched her once and I already wanted to tear the world apart. If he has sent her threats about that, if he has put that back in her head because he is angry he lost the seat he thought he could get by using her—”

She stopped.

Not because she was finished.

Because Jack was there.

Toto heard her breathe.

Then she said, controlled again, “We are going over now. I’ll see you there.”

“Yes.”

The call ended.

The ride down took too long.

Everything took too long.

In the car, he did what he had promised.

Mostly.

He drove fast, but not recklessly. He stopped at lights when stopping was required. He did not call Nikolai again because Nikolai would call him if something changed, and because calling repeatedly would create noise in a room that needed less of it.

His phone stayed in the holder.

His hands stayed on the wheel.

His mind did not stay anywhere useful.

It went to George.

George in Mercedes kit.

George smiling politely in meetings.

George standing too close to Ana in a corridor while Toto had been busy with some other fire, some other contract, some other championship, some other crisis that had felt urgent enough to take his eyes off the oldest danger in the room: a mediocre man with entitlement and access.

Toto had missed Stephanie until after harm had already occurred. 

He had missed George too.

Not entirely. Not forever. But long enough.

Long enough for Ana to be cornered.

Long enough for a forced kiss.

Long enough for George to build a story in his head where Ana’s refusal was the first domino in a chain that ended with sabotage at Baku.

Toto’s jaw clenched so hard pain shot toward his ear.

He breathed.

Because Nikolai had told him to.

Because Susie had told him to.

Because Ana needed him not to arrive as another emergency.

By the time he reached the house, Susie was already there.

Of course she was.

Her car had pulled in moments before his. The door opened, and Jack climbed out wearing his school uniform, backpack too large on his shoulders, one hand gripping Coco the stuffed capybara by one leg.

Susie stepped out behind him.

Her face was pale.

Her eyes were furious.

Toto knew that expression.

He had seen it in boardrooms, in paddocks, nights earlier when she had looked at him and said, You never asked her.

This was different.

This was maternal rage stripped clean of everything else.

She looked at him once. He crossed the small space between them.

For a second, neither spoke.

Then Jack moved first.

He walked up to Toto and pressed himself against his side.

Toto’s arm came down around him automatically.

“Papa,” Jack said into his shirt, “are you calm?”

Toto closed his eyes.

Susie’s face changed. Just for a second. Then she looked away.

“I am trying,” Toto said.

Jack considered that.

“Okay.”

It was trust. Toto did not deserve all the trust his children gave him. He held Jack for one second longer, then let go.

Susie stepped closer.

Her voice was low enough that Jack could not hear. “If I see him again,” she said, “I will forget every media training session I have ever done.”

Toto looked at her. “If I see him again,” he replied, “there may not be enough left for anything at all.”

Susie’s mouth tightened.

Not quite approval. Not disapproval either.

Then Jack looked between them. “Are we talking about the bad person?”

Susie turned immediately.

“Yes,” she said. “But not details.”

Jack nodded, serious. “Because details can make brains make pictures.”

Toto’s throat tightened.

Susie crouched in front of him.

“Yes, darling. Exactly.”

Jack held up the capybara. “Coco does not make pictures.”

“No,” Susie said, and her voice nearly broke. “Coco is very sensible.”

“Nikolai will know what to do.”

“Yes.”

“And Ana might not want hugs.”

“That’s right.”

“But she can have Coco.”

“If she wants.”

Jack nodded again, as if the matter had become a protocol he could manage.

Good.

Susie stood.

Toto looked toward the building entrance.

Nikolai was waiting.

Of course he was.

He opened it before they knocked.

His gaze took them in.

Toto. Susie. Jack.

The capybara.

For half a second, something almost human softened around Nikolai’s eyes.

Then it was gone.

“How is she?” Susie asked.

“Shaken. Breathing. With Verstappen.”

Susie inhaled.

“Good.”

Susie’s hand found his wrist.

Brief. Hard. A warning and an anchor.

Not here. Not now. Ana first.

They entered the house.

It was too quiet.

The house was rarely loud, exactly, but it had a particular atmosphere when Max was in it. Movement, irritation, the distant threat of a sim race, cats occasionally insulted by doors. Now the quiet had been organized. Contained. Every sound seemed to know better than to travel too far.

Nikolai led them to the living room.

Toto saw Max first.

On the sofa, broken leg extended, face pale with rage, one hand wrapped around Ana’s.

Then Ana.

She sat beside him, too straight, too still, her face composed in a way that made Toto want to destroy something.

Her eyes lifted.

Found him.

Then Susie. Then Jack.

Something changed in her expression when she saw her brother. “Jack,” she said.

Her voice sounded thin.

Jack walked into the room carefully.

Not rushing.

Good boy, Toto thought helplessly. Good, good boy.

“I brought Coco,” Jack said.

Ana looked at the capybara.

For one second, Toto thought she might break.

Then she held out her free hand.

Jack placed Coco in it with the solemnity of a ceremonial exchange.

“She is good for bad days,” Jack said.

Ana looked down at the capybara.

Then at Jack.

“She is,” Ana said.

Jack nodded.

Then, after a pause, “Are you hurt?”

Ana’s mouth trembled.

Only once.

“No.”

“Okay.”

He looked at Max. “Are you hurt?”

Max blinked.

Then looked down at his cast.

“Already was.”

Jack frowned. “That counts.”

Max’s mouth twitched.

“Okay. Then yes.”

Jack nodded again, apparently updating the situation.

Then he looked at Nikolai. “Is the bad person far away?”

“Yes,” Nikolai said.

“Are you making sure?”

“Yes.”

Jack looked back at Ana. “Nikolai is making sure.”

Ana closed her eyes briefly.

When she opened them, they were wet.

“Yes,” she said. “He is.”

Susie moved then.

Slowly. Not rushing.

She crossed the room and knelt in front of Ana.

For a second, mother and daughter looked at each other.

No words. No demand.

Then Susie said, “Darling girl.”

Ana’s face cracked. “I’m sorry,” Ana said.

Susie’s expression changed so quickly it was almost frightening. “No.”

Ana swallowed. “I—”

“No,” Susie said again, firmer now. “No. You do not apologize to me because a violent, entitled man decided consequences were your fault.”

Ana’s eyes went wide. Max’s hand tightened around hers.

Toto stayed in the doorway. If he moved too quickly, he would become the wrong thing. He knew that.

Breathe before you come in.

So he breathed.

Susie took Ana’s free hand, careful of Coco.

“You did nothing wrong,” Susie said. “Not then. Not now. ”

Ana’s throat moved. “I know.”

“Do you?”

Ana looked away.

Susie’s face softened.

“Okay,” she said. “Then we will know it for you until the rest catches up.”

Max looked down.

His jaw was clenched. Toto could see the effort it cost him not to speak over that.

Susie kissed Ana’s cheek.

Then stood.

Only then did Toto move.

One step. Two.

He stopped in front of Ana, not too close, because she was already surrounded and the room was already full.

“Anastasia,” he said.

Her eyes lifted to his.

He had driven here with a thousand things burning in his throat.

I am sorry.

I failed you.

I should have seen.

I should have kept him away.

I will end him.

None of them were the first thing she needed.

So he said the truest thing he could trust himself with. “You are safe here.”

Ana stared at him.

Then her eyes moved to Nikolai.

To Susie.

To Max.

To Jack.

To the capybara in her lap.

Back to Toto.

“I know,” she said.

The words were small.

But not empty.

Toto nodded once.

“Good.”

His hands wanted to reach for her.

He did not.

After a moment, Ana lifted her free hand.

Not far.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

Toto took it.

Carefully.

Her fingers were cold.

He held them as if something in him might shatter if he held too tightly.

“Papa,” she said.

That was all.

It was enough to nearly bring him to his knees.

***

Maison Étoiles, Monaco - 13 October 2025

The next steps were, unfortunately, very boring.

Ana had expected that.

She had said as much to Max earlier, and Max had looked at her like she had said something clinically insane, because Max believed death threats and police involvement should qualify as many things, but boring was apparently not one of them.

He was wrong.

The immediate terror was sharp.

The aftermath was simply paperwork.

Screenshots. Timestamps. Device preservation. Call logs. Number traces. Statements. Legal classifications. Jurisdictional questions. House arrest conditions. Police liaison. Private security escalation. Digital forensics. Official Mercedes records from George’s prior conduct. HR documentation. Access logs. Event calendars. Travel manifests. Baku evidence chains. Every fact extracted, duplicated, labelled, backed up, and placed into a structure..

Ana liked structures. Usually. Tonight, she hated this one.

She sat in their living room with a blanket over her legs that Susie had put there and Ana had not removed, and watched a very serious lawyer from Monaco speak to a very serious lawyer in London through Toto’s phone on speaker.

Police had already been contacted.

Not debated. Not postponed. Not softened into we should see if this escalates. Nikolai had made that decision before Toto had arrived, and Toto had endorsed it with the expression of a man who would have preferred to solve the matter by physically putting George Russell through a wall but understood that courts sadly required less satisfying behaviour.

Ana had given the statement.

Or the first statement.

There would be more.

That was the thing about statements. They reproduced.

The Monaco officer had been calm. Professional. Careful with his questions after the lawyer had said, in French first and then in English for everyone’s benefit, that Ana would answer once and clearly, and he would stop the interview if she was made to repeat sexual-threat content unnecessarily.

Ana had appreciated that.

She had hated that she needed it.

Max sat beside her on the sofa, broken leg elevated on a cushion, jaw clenched so tightly Ana worried briefly about dental damage. He had been told three separate times that he could not participate in active evidence handling while medicated, furious, and visibly inclined toward murder.

He had responded badly.

Then Susie had said, “Max, darling, sit down before you make Ana start managing you,” and he had sat down so quickly Ana had almost smiled.

Almost.

Jack was on the floor near the windows with the cats and headphones on.

That had been an unexpected stabilizing variable.

Ana had not wanted Jack in the room for the legal discussions. Nobody had. Not even Jack, once he had understood that the adult voices were going to be boring and sharp and full of words he was not meant to collect.

So Susie had created a boundary.

Jack could stay in the house. Jack could be near Ana. Jack could wear headphones and listen to his favourite tv series. Jack could not listen to the details of the messages. Jack could not see the phone. Jack could not interrupt when police were speaking unless it was urgent.

Jack had accepted this after negotiating one amendment: he was allowed to play with Sassy and Jimmy.

Max had said, “If they agree.”

Jack had gone very serious and said, “Cats have consent too.”

That had been the first time Ana had nearly cried.

Now Jack lay on his stomach on the rug, still in his school trousers and socks, Coco tucked under one arm, dragging a feather toy in small cautious circles while Jimmy stalked it with the exaggerated intensity of an apex predator who was shaped like a spoiled domestic cat.

Sassy watched from a chair with open disdain.

“She is supervising,” Jack whispered to Jimmy.

Jimmy pounced on the feather and missed by a humiliating margin. Jack did not laugh. He said, very kindly, “Good try.”

Ana looked away.

Her eyes burned again. This was becoming inconvenient.

Toto sat opposite her, one ankle crossed over the other, outwardly controlled in a way that made the air around him feel pressurized. His sleeves were rolled up. His watch had been placed on the table beside him, which meant he had already entered the phase of crisis management where objects became obstacles.

Susie stood behind Ana’s end of the sofa, one hand resting lightly on the back cushion. Not touching Ana, but there. Close enough that Ana could lean back by two centimetres and find her.

Nikolai stood near the hallway.

He had not sat once.

That was unnecessary. It was also deeply reassuring.

The London lawyer said, “Given the content referencing Baku, we will need to coordinate with the relevant authorities already involved in the investigation.”

Toto’s face did not move.

“Yes.”

“And the house arrest conditions—”

“Will be revisited,” Toto said.

It was not a question.

The lawyer paused.

“Yes. We can apply pressure there.”

“Not pressure,” Toto said. “Evidence.”

Ana looked at him.

That was exactly the correction she would have made. Under better circumstances, that would have pleased her.

Tonight, it simply made her chest hurt.

The Monaco officer asked Ana whether the unknown number had attempted to call.

“No,” Ana said.

Her voice sounded normal.

Too normal.

She knew because Susie’s hand flexed against the sofa behind her.

“Only text messages?” the officer asked.

“Yes.”

“And you did not respond?”

“No.”

“Did the sender identify himself?”

“No.”

“But you believe it is George Russell?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Ana looked at her laptop screen.

The cursor blinked in the open document where she had already begun constructing a timeline because waiting passively for other people to organize facts was intolerable.

“Language patterns,” she said. “Prior conduct. Specific references to phrases he previously used. Motive. The mention of Baku. His belief that his seat loss was caused by me. His prior fixation on the idea that I required correction.”

The room went very still around the word correction.

Max’s hand moved toward hers.

Stopped. Waited.

Ana looked down at it.

Then placed her hand in his.

His fingers closed gently.

The officer’s voice softened, which Ana disliked.

“Can you expand on that prior fixation?”

Toto’s head turned sharply.

Nikolai spoke before Toto could.

“That has been documented in the initial incident report from Mercedes,” he said. “Additional detail can be provided in a supplemental written statement after she has rested.”

The officer accepted that.

Ana made a note to thank Nikolai later.

Probably by sending him an updated access schedule.

(He would understand.)

The call continued.

Legal action. Emergency protective orders. Coordination with UK police. A formal report in Monaco. Preservation letters. Notification of whatever authority supervised George’s house arrest. Review of whether the threats constituted breach of conditions. Review of whether his access to communication devices had been properly restricted. Review of whether anyone around him had facilitated contact.

That last part made Ana’s skin prickle.

Facilitated.

Someone could have given him a phone.

Someone could have looked away.

Someone could have decided George was harmless if contained behind the right walls.

Ana looked toward Jack on the floor.

Jimmy had now climbed halfway onto Jack’s back, apparently deciding the human child made an acceptable platform. Jack was whispering to him.

Her chest tightened again.

Not as sharply as before.

Worse, in some ways.

Broader.

Because fear, once it finished aiming at the first target, began looking for others.

George had reached her.

From house arrest.

While under restrictions that were supposed to matter.

He had not known about Max and Ana. He had not known he was texting Max Verstappen’s fiancée in their shared house.

He had still reached her.

If he could reach her, he could reach—

“Papa,” Ana said.

Toto stopped mid-sentence.

Everyone looked at her.

She hated that.

But the thought was already moving. Once a thought began moving with this much momentum, stopping it required more energy than redirecting it into words.

“Maybe security for the rest of the family would not be a horrible idea.”

The words landed heavily.

Susie’s hand went still behind her.

Toto’s face changed. “The rest of the family,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

Max turned his head toward her.

Ana kept her gaze on Toto because if she looked at Max, she might see too much fear reflected back and lose the thread.

“I know it sounds paranoid,” she said.

“It does not,” Nikolai said.

Immediately. Flatly.

Ana looked at him. Nikolai looked back.

“It does not sound paranoid,” he repeated.

Something in her loosened by one degree.

Toto’s expression had hardened, but not at her.

Never at her.

“Who?” he asked.

Ana swallowed.

“Susie. Jack. Benedict and Rosa. Stephanie, although I do not know whether George would consider her connected to me. Your mother. Maybe Max’s family too.”

Susie inhaled softly. Ana did not look at her.

“I am not saying George can reach them,” Ana continued quickly. “I am saying his logic is not rational, and if he believes I caused a chain of events, he may decide other people are pressure points as well.”

Toto leaned forward. “Anastasia.”

“I know this is probably excessive.”

“It is not.”

She stopped.

Toto’s voice was very quiet. “It is not excessive.”

Ana blinked. “Papa—”

“No.” He shook his head once. “You are not being paranoid. You are assessing risk after a credible threat. That is what you should do.”

Her throat tightened.

She hated how much she needed him to say that.

She hated that some part of her had expected, even now, to be told she was overreacting. Too much. Too sensitive. Making patterns where none existed.

Stephanie’s voice, old and sharp, from the ugly carpet years.

George’s voice, smoother, newer. Most people don’t have patience for this.

Toto’s voice cut through both.

“You are assessing risk,” he said again. “And you are right.”

Ana looked down.

Max’s thumb moved once across her knuckles.

Toto turned to Nikolai. “Can we expand coverage tonight?”

“Yes.”

“How quickly?”

“Some immediately. More within the hour. Full coverage by morning.”

“Do it.”

Nikolai nodded.

Susie stepped around the sofa and sat on Ana’s other side.

Ana stiffened reflexively.

Susie noticed and did not touch her.

She simply sat close enough to become part of the perimeter.

The lawyer on speaker cleared his throat delicately.

Toto returned his attention to the phone call, but something in the room had shifted.

Not better.

Better was not available.

Contained, perhaps.

No.

Ana disliked that word now.

Held. Maybe.

The calls took another forty minutes.

Ana answered questions until Nikolai said, “No more,” and this time even Toto did not argue.

The police confirmed next steps. The lawyers confirmed paperwork. Nikolai confirmed additional guards moving into place around the immediate family. Toto confirmed nothing with his face, but Ana could see him already building the list in his head.

Benedict. Rosa. His mother. Susie’s parents, perhaps. Sally and John were not direct targets, but they had just hosted them in Scotland and Fiona knew the wedding venue and—

Ana’s breath caught.

Venue. Wedding. Private island. Bridge. Guest list. Children in the bridal party.

Her mind moved too fast.

Alana and Keira. Lio and Luka and Hailey. Jack. Families. Names. Arrivals. Flights. Staff. Access.

Max’s hand tightened. “Nastya.”

Ana blinked.

She had gone somewhere.

She knew because everyone was looking at her again.

“I need the wedding guest list locked down,” she said.

Susie’s face changed. “Not now.”

“Yes, now.”

“Ana.”

“If George somehow learns—”

“He does not know about the wedding,” Susie said.

“He did not know about Max and me either, and he still reached my phone.”

The words came out sharper than intended.

Susie stopped.

Max’s jaw flexed.

Toto stood.

Not abruptly.

Carefully.

Then crossed to crouch in front of her.

Ana disliked when tall people crouched. It made conversations feel medical.

This did not.

Maybe because Toto did not touch her.

Maybe because his face was not pitying.

Maybe because his anger was there, but not aimed at her.

“Anastasia,” he said. “Listen to me.”

“I am listening.”

“No, you are planning.”

That was deeply unfair.

“I can do both.”

“Yes,” Toto said. “I know. But listen anyway.”

Ana closed her mouth.

Toto’s eyes held hers.

“We will secure the family. We will secure the wedding. We will secure travel, communications, venue access, guest movement, staff, suppliers, routes, and every other variable you can name. Nikolai will make lists. I will make calls. Max will attempt to interfere and be told to sit down. Susie will keep us from turning the wedding into a military operation.”

“I make no promises,” Susie said.

Toto did not look away from Ana.

“You do not need to solve all of it tonight,” he said.

Ana’s mouth tightened.

“If I don’t write it down, I will lose track.”

“No,” Max said quietly. “You won’t.”

She looked at him.

He was leaning toward her as much as the cast allowed.

“You will remember,” he said. “You remember everything when you are scared. That is the problem.”

Ana’s throat closed.

Toto’s face softened with pain.

Max continued, low and steady. “So we write down enough that your brain stops trying to hold all of it alone. Not everything. Enough.”

Ana looked at the laptop.

The open document.

The blinking cursor.

Enough.

It was a difficult category.

Less precise than complete.

More livable.

Nikolai stepped forward and placed a piece of paper on the table.

Ana stared at it.

It was already labelled:

IMMEDIATE SECURITY QUESTIONS — NOT FULL PLAN

She looked up at him.

Nikolai’s face was unreadable.

“Ten items,” he said. “Maximum.”

Ana stared.

“Only immediate,” he added.

She took the pen.

The first item was: Family coverage tonight.

The second: Jack school route.

The third: Susie public schedule.

The fourth: House access.

The fifth: COTA travel.

Toto saw that one immediately.

His eyes sharpened. “We need to discuss COTA.”

Ana did not look up. “No.”

“You are not going to COTA.”

She looked up then.

The room went still.

Max’s hand tightened around hers again, but he did not speak.

“I am going to COTA,” Ana said.

Toto’s expression did not change, which meant he was about to become extremely difficult.

“Anastasia.”

“No.”

“You received death threats less than two hours ago.”

“Yes.”

“And sexual threats.”

“Yes.”

“And threats referencing Baku.”

“Yes.”

“You nearly had a panic attack.”

“Yes.”

Her voice stayed level.

Barely.

Toto leaned forward. “Then you understand why I am suggesting that you do not fly to Texas this week.”

“I understand why you are suggesting it.”

“But?”

“But I am still going.”

Susie shifted beside her. “Ana—”

Ana turned to her. “No.”

Susie closed her mouth.

Not because she agreed.

Because she had heard something in Ana’s voice.

Good.

Ana needed someone to hear it.

“I am shaken,” Ana said.

The words cost more than she expected.

She forced herself to keep going.

“I am scared. I am angry. I do not like that he reached me. I do not like that my body reacted. I do not like that I am thinking about Jack’s school route and Susie’s book tour and whether George has access to other people I love. I do not like any of it.”

Max’s face twisted.

Toto looked like he had been struck.

Ana kept her hands still.

“But I am not letting him stop me from doing my job.”

The sentence settled in the room.

Hard.

Clean.

“He has already built an entire internal mythology where my refusal caused his career to collapse,” she continued. “If I disappear from COTA because he sent messages, that will become part of the same mythology. He will not know why. He will not see nuance. He will only know that he reached me and I changed my behavior.”

Nikolai’s gaze sharpened.

Toto said, “Your safety is more important than his interpretation.”

“Yes.”

“Then—”

“But my life is also important,” Ana said.

Toto stopped.

Ana’s heart was beating too fast again.

She ignored it.

Mostly.

“My job is part of my life. Mercedes is part of my life. Max’s transition is part of my life. COTA is work I was already scheduled to do. I will not let George Russell decide that I have to become smaller because he is dangerous.”

Toto looked at her for a long moment.

Then, quietly, “I am not asking you to become smaller.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Ana hesitated.

Toto saw it.

Of course he did.

He looked pained.

Max spoke then. “I think she should go.”

Everyone turned toward him.

Toto’s eyes narrowed. “You think she should go?!”

Max kept his gaze on Toto. “If she stays home because of him, she will hate it,” he said. “She will be safer maybe, but not better.”

“Safer matters,” Toto said.

“Yes,” Max said. “So make it safe.”

Toto’s jaw tightened.

Max did not back down. “She is not saying no security. She is saying no hiding.”

Ana’s eyes burned again.

This was getting ridiculous.

Nikolai said, “COTA can be secured.”

Toto turned to him.

“How?”

“Travel adjusted. No commercial exposure. Known movements minimized. Additional close protection. Digital restrictions. Local liaison. No solo transfers. Paddock movements controlled. Mercedes staff briefed on need-to-know basis. I will go to COTA with her. We will need additional coverage for Mr. Verstappen here in Monaco.” 

Max frowned. “For me?”

“You are a target too,” Nikolai said.

“I know.”

“You behave as if you do not.”

Max opened his mouth.

Ana said, “He is correct.”

Max closed his mouth.

Toto looked between them.

Then at Susie.

Susie was watching Ana, not the men.

Her eyes were sad and proud and furious all at once.

“I don’t like it,” Susie said.

Ana nodded. “I know.”

“I want to wrap you in blankets and lock every door.”

“That is not efficient.”

“It would make me feel better.”

“I know.”

Susie’s mouth trembled slightly. “But you are right,” she said.

Toto looked at her sharply.

Susie did not look away from Ana.

“You are right,” she repeated. “Not because safety does not matter. It does. But because you get to keep your life.”

Ana’s breath shook.

Just once.

Susie reached out slowly.

Ana let her hand settle over hers.

Toto stood, turned away for one second, then turned back.

He looked like he wanted to argue. He looked like he wanted to forbid it.

He looked, for one painful moment, like the father who had missed too much and wanted to repair the past by controlling the future.

Then he inhaled. 

He chose differently. “Fine,” he said.

Ana blinked.

Toto pointed at her, and there he was again, half father, half team principal, entirely impossible. “Not fine. Conditional fine.”

Max muttered, “Here we go.”

Toto ignored him.

“You go to COTA only with a security sign-off. Nikolai approves the plan. Travel is adjusted. Your schedule is reviewed. No unnecessary appearances. No solo movement. If Nikolai says leave, you leave. If there is another credible escalation, we revisit.”

Ana considered this.

It was not unreasonable. Annoying. But not unreasonable.

“Define unnecessary appearances,” she said.

Toto almost smiled.

Almost.

“We will define it together.”

“That means you will attempt to remove everything.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“That is why we define it together.”

Ana looked at Nikolai.

He nodded once.

“Acceptable,” he said.

Ana sighed. “Fine.”

Max leaned back slightly, as if someone had removed one of several knives from the room.

Toto looked at him. “And you.”

Max’s face closed. “What?”

“You are injured. You are also not moving without security.” Toto continued, “You will follow the same plan.”

Max looked rebellious.

Ana turned her head. “Max.”

He looked at her.

She did not have to say more.

That was satisfying.

He sighed. “Fine.”

Jack, who had apparently decided the adult crisis had become safe enough to re-enter, looked up from the rug.

“Are we all going to Texas?”

“No,” Susie said immediately.

Jack looked disappointed. “Why?”

“Because you have school.”

“School is less secure than Texas.”

Every adult in the room went still.

Jack looked around. “What?”

Ana closed her eyes briefly.

Toto said, “We are also discussing your school route.”

Jack nodded. “Good. Nikolai should check the side gate. It sticks.”

Nikolai looked at him.

“The side gate sticks,” Jack repeated helpfully. “At pickup. Not drop-off.”

Nikolai took out his phone and made a note.

Jack looked pleased.

Ana stared at her brother.

“Useful,” she said.

Jack beamed. “I can do security.”

“You can do school,” Susie said.

“And security observations.”

“And security observations,” Susie conceded.

Sassy chose that moment to leap onto the sofa beside Ana, step directly across the paperwork, and sit on the list of immediate security questions.

Max sighed. “Sassy.”

Sassy looked at him with contempt.

Jack whispered, “She is protecting the documents.”

Ana looked at the cat.

Sassy blinked slowly.

Ana placed her hand lightly on the cat’s back.

The purr started immediately.

Low.

Smug.

Alive.

For the first time in almost two hours, Ana’s nervous system found a sound that was not a phone vibrating, not George’s words, not lawyers, not police, not the echo of her own breath failing.

Just a cat purring under her palm while her little brother explained gate mechanics to a bodyguard and her fiancé argued silently with her father about who had the more unreasonable protective instincts.

She was still shaken.

That did not vanish because people loved her.

Her hands still trembled if she stopped paying attention. Her chest still felt bruised from the panic. Her phone still looked like a threat on the table. Somewhere in her mind, George’s messages kept trying to replay themselves in the dark.

But the room was louder now.

Not in volume.

In presence.

Toto making calls. Susie sitting close. Nikolai writing down Jack’s side-gate observation. Max’s thumb against her hand. Jack’s socked feet on the rug. Jimmy attacking the feather toy. Sassy purring with the entitled force of a small engine.

George had reached her.

He had frightened her.

He had not stopped her.

Ana looked at the fifth item on the list.

COTA travel.

Then she wrote beneath it:

Proceed with modifications.

Toto saw it.

His mouth tightened.

But he did not tell her to cross it out.

Good.

Progress.

Ana placed the pen down and rested her hand on Sassy’s back again.

The cat purred louder.

Jack looked up. “Ana?”

“Yes?”

“Coco can go to Texas if you need her.”

Ana’s throat tightened so fast it hurt.

Max looked away.

Susie pressed her fingers to her mouth.

Toto’s face broke for half a second before he controlled it.

Ana looked at her brother and the capybara tucked under his arm.

“I might,” she said carefully, “need a photograph of Coco for the travel file.”

Jack nodded, deeply serious. “I can send one.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was absurd.

It was perfect.

It was, Ana thought, perhaps the only reason she did not fall apart completely.

Because there were police and lawyers and death threats and security protocols.

And there was also Jack, offering her a stuffed Capybara as part of an international travel risk mitigation plan.

Ana breathed in.

It shook. But it entered.

Then she looked at Toto.

“Family coverage first,” she said.

Toto nodded.

“Already happening.”

“And COTA.”

“Modified,” he said.

“Not cancelled.”

His eyes held hers.

The fight was not gone.

The fear was not gone.

But he nodded again.

“Not cancelled.”

Ana looked down at the list.

Her hand still shook when she picked up the pen.

She wrote anyway.

Ilia: At some point you have to talk to me

You stare at the screen again, Cam's voice slowly fading into the background. She's on FaceTime with you, showing you two dresses she has as options for a last-minute wedding invitation. Originally, she had planned to decline, but your and Ziggy's points were convincing enough that she decided to put her gaming console aside for one night, opting instead to spend time with her relatives.

"Is it, like, too slutty for a wedding?"

"No, it's perfect."

"But the cut is low."

"Well, it's not like you have the boobs to fill it out."

"Bitch," she chuckles, throwing you a half-annoyed, half-offended look. She squints at the screen because she still hasn't picked up her new prescription glasses, being the procrastinator she is. "Are you still dwelling on Ilia's text?"

"What am I supposed to reply?!"

"Tell him you'll talk to him once your exams are over."

"My exams are over in, like, two weeks," you sigh, leaning back in your gaming chair as you shut your eyes tight for a few seconds. You feel entirely overwhelmed by the single text message you haven't opened since this morning. It's almost 5 p.m. now.

The truth is, you're not really ignoring him. Sure, maybe you ran away after he confessed to you and kissed you, but it's not like you've seen him since then or have been deliberately avoiding him. And it's only been two days. You're just not actively seeking to resolve whatever happened because the whole situation scares you even more than the reality excites you. The embarrassment still lingers every time you relive those few seconds when you tugged the door handle and ran away as he called out your name.

"Why are you so uptight about this whole thing? It's Ilia."

"Yes, exactly!" you huff, rolling your eyes. Explaining something to your best friend is hard, especially when you don't even understand it yourself. "He kissed me and I ran away like an idiot!"

"And now you're acting like a bigger idiot because you keep ignoring him."

"I mean, I'm not exactly ignoring him."

"Oh, shut up," she exhales, throwing you a dirty look before she puts the black dress away in the closet, presumably brushing aside your opinion that it looks appropriate for a wedding. "Tell him you needed time to think and you'll talk to him soon."

"When is soon?"

"Honestly, I'm running out of patience with you."

"Alright, alright," you admit in a defeated voice, straightening your spine as if it somehow gives you the confidence you desperately need. "I'll figure something out."

"Yes, like you always do."

"But this is, like, an exceptional case."

"Are you going to keep ranting about that Russian boy, or will you help me finish my wedding look?"

You nod, leaning forward so you can see the jewelry options she's showing you. You try to bite back the comment that all of them are ugly—but you do, because it fits Cam's style perfectly and you are a good friend.

The call with her ends approximately twenty minutes later. You find yourself spinning in your gaming chair, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you type out several responses before aggressively hitting the delete button, never satisfied with the outcome. Eventually, you stop and ask yourself if it's really that serious. The next second, you've sent a message before fully thinking it through. Your heartbeat quickens just enough when you see that he has read it almost immediately.

You: I'm sorry. I know we need to talk.

Ilia: Are you home?

You: I'm kind of in the middle of something.

You panic when he doesn't respond. Your eyes widen as you realize he hasn't even opened your last message, meaning he's probably already on his way over. Cursing under your breath, you leap up from the chair. You frantically look around the room to find something to put on instead of your washed-out t-shirt, which has holes in the collar thanks to your habit of chewing on it whenever you're bored. A dark blue t-shirt that you snagged from Jace's room at some point is in much better condition, complementing a pair of gray shorts that were also his before puberty fully had its impact on him.

The doorbell rings just as you're sprinting down the stairs. He knows your dad is still at work, and he also knows that Jace hits the gym around this time every Tuesday. There's not really a reason for him to hide or hold back, meaning you're forced to have this conversation even if you're not fully prepared for it. Maybe it's better this way, before you start overthinking and potentially ruining something that hasn't even started yet.

"Hi."

You give him a somewhat shy smile, stepping aside to silently welcome him in. He eyes you for a second, opening his mouth slightly as if he's about to say something, but ultimately decides against it. He's wearing one of the many Toothless t-shirts he owns, his shorts hugging him perfectly. You subtly eye him as he steps inside, wondering when exactly his glutes managed to grow like that.

"What are you up to?"

"Um… just the usual stuff," you shrug, heat rushing to your face despite trying so hard to sound casual. It's almost like you've completely forgotten how to talk to him.

He gives you an expectant look, the kind that encourages you to start talking, but the silence hangs heavy in the room. Your palms seem to grow sweaty, so you hide them at your sides as if they are the sole thing giving away your uneasiness and not the panicked expression plastered on your face.

"Can we just talk?" he asks abruptly, as if he's finally had enough of the awkwardness. He sighs, looking at you with slightly raised eyebrows—an expression you know well from when he's feeling sorry or worried about something. You shift uncomfortably, pressing your lips together as he continues. "It's me. Things don't have to be awkward."

"I know."

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not," you exhale, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands. Looking him straight in the eye is deeply embarrassing, especially when he shakes his head, his gaze hardening. "I'm just…"

"You're just what?" he presses, vaguely gesturing with his hands. "Look, I understand if you needed time to think, and I wanted to give you space, but you haven't talked to me in almost three days. You ran away after I kissed you. I just… I don't know what to think."

"I know it was a stupid thing to do."

"Are you still mad at me?"

The question takes you aback. You pause when his voice comes out quieter. The answer doesn't come easily because you haven't actually thought about it. All you could think about these past few days was the fact that Ilia kissed you, and that he actually liked you back—just as you had always wished he would.

"No," you reply after a while, concluding that you don't feel an ounce of the rage you felt a few days ago. "I ran away because I was confused and… scared. I'm just stupid."

"You're not." He shakes his head and steps forward, gently pushing your blue-light glasses back up after they had slid down your nose. You only wear them because of your dad's insistence; he always uses the excuse of being a doctor who "knows better" when he forces you and your brother to do things you don't really want to do.

"Usually I'm not, no, but running away that night was one of the most embarrassing things I've ever done."

"It doesn't top the talent show you did back in middle school."

"Oh, shut up," you groan at the memory, avoiding his gaze as he lets out a laugh. He tugs at your arm, pulling you toward him. It's as if the heavy tension completely breaks with the solo memory, a stark reminder that this is Ilia—the guy you grew up with, the boy you never need to shy away from. He stares down at you with a soft expression, fixing the pieces of hair that messily frame your face. "You weren't so great at that talent show either."

"I got first place."

"Just because you sucked less than the other kids doesn't mean you didn't suck."

The corner of his lip lifts, a smile stretching across his face as his voice loses its teasing edge. "As much as I enjoy this conversation, can we go back to where we started?"

"You like embarrassing me, don't you?"

"No, I just want to establish the fact that I like you," he repeats, more confident this time. His eyes search yours while you stare at him quietly, your chest tightening at the words that make you dizzy. They still feel unfamiliar, but you could easily get used to them. "And I'm sorry for being a coward and not sticking up for us when it mattered. I was a jerk that night."

"It hurt. A lot."

"I know."

"I've spent the last few years having a massive crush on you," you admit openly, your heart hammering against your ribs. Something twists in your stomach as you hold back, choosing not to tell him that your feelings are actually much greater than a silly crush. It's too soon, you tell yourself, clinging to the excuse. "And hearing you say that… it just destroyed me. You brushed me off like I was just Jace's annoying little sister you're forced to tolerate… And then you just confessed out of the blue when I was so mad at you, and I just…" You can't even finish the sentence, unable to find the words for what you felt in that moment. "It was a lot to take in."

"I'm sorry. I hate myself for how I handled that," he says, his voice apologetic. He reaches down, gently taking your hands in his, forcing you to look up at him. "The second Jack brought you up, I panicked. He kind of already knew, and I was afraid he would see right through me. And if Jack found out, Jace would find out."

The image of your brother flashes across your mind. He loves Ilia; there's no doubt that in any world, he would consider his best friend worthy of you, but you also know him well enough to know he won't be happy about this. Both you and Ilia know that if Jace finds out, things are going to get ugly.

"I took the easy way out because I was terrified," Ilia confesses, his blue eyes sincere, pleading with you to understand. "I was terrified of how messy things would get if they found out how I actually felt about you."

"Jace won't approve."

"I know."

You exhale, your shoulders dropping, heavy with a secret that already feels like a burden. He lets go of your hands only to cup the side of your face, his fingers sliding into your hair. "Look at me."

You look up, meeting the intense blue of his eyes.

"I've felt this way about you for a while, and I always tried to tell myself it was wrong," he says softly, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "Yeah, maybe I'm not supposed to have feelings for my best friend's sister because of some unwritten moral code, but it's not wrong. It doesn't feel wrong anymore. The whole time I was on tour, I missed home terribly, and then I realized it was you I was homesick for."

The honesty in his voice completely undoes you, stripping away the last string of your hesitation. Suddenly, you find yourself leaning in, sneaking your arms around his back and burying your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. His response is immediate. He pulls you tighter against him, rubbing your back affectionately and pressing a light kiss into your hair.

You don't know how much time passes before he gently lifts your head up, caressing your jaw with his palm. His blue eyes sweep over your face, his thumb eventually coming to rest on your bottom lip.

"Can I kiss you?"

"It's not like you asked the first time, either."

He grins, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the touch. His mouth is warm against yours, his hands roaming over your back as they clutch your t-shirt. Your hand flies into his hair, the short strands soft between your fingertips as you gently tug at them. You only pull back when you're left breathless, your chest heaving up and down just like his. A smile breaks across his face.

"By the way," his voice turns teasing, his fingertip tracing a slow line up your arm. "You're wearing my t-shirt."

"What?" Your brows furrow, genuine confusion making your lips pout.

"Yeah. Jace ended up borrowing it a while ago, but he never gave it back."

"Well, I'm not giving it back either."

"Good," he smiles, his eyes almost shining. "I don't want you to."

You grin at him, intertwining your fingers with his—at first shyly, then gripping him tightly, leading him up to your room to show him the new Lego set you've built before Jace comes back.

Neither of you talk about it, neither of you openly discuss it, but you quickly slip into a routine.

His texts come in every morning and night, the day never ending without late-night conversations with him, your friends teasing you that you have temporarily replaced them. He gives you rides to the university—half the time you secretly slide into the passenger seat, and the other half of the time you casually mention to Jace that you two happen to have the same schedule. Your brother doesn't think anything of it, you're sure, casually waving you off before his stare fixes back on the computer screen.

On the rare occasions that you're free from studying and working and the house is empty for you to use as you please, he comes over. You watch movies, play games, cook pasta for him, and teach him how to play Sudoku. He brings you your favorite snacks and you cuddle on the couch, always glancing at the clock to make sure you don't get caught. Sometimes it's hard, pretending nothing exists between you two except a platonic relationship, and perhaps there's no reason to wait anymore, because Jace will rage at both of you anyways—but still, neither of you speak about it. Perhaps you like the thrill of sneaking around behind everyone's back. Perhaps, despite how much you don't want to admit it out loud, the idea of things getting real scares you both.

"Come on, just one more lap."

"I can't!"

"Stop whining."

Jace exhales, nudging you to continue running while your chest heaves up and down, your whole body sweaty as you try to fight off your legs from giving up. You watch him run ahead of you, wiping the sweat from your forehead before you straighten your spine, jogging after him in a way less energetic way.

Jace thinks of himself as a caring brother, which is why he has decided to take care of your physical health, forcing you to run with him almost every day and feeding you the protein smoothies he enthusiastically makes every morning. You're doing laps around the neighborhood, having just passed your house, when you see Jace stopping. You squint your eyes to confirm that the blonde talking to him is Ilia.

"Hey."

"Hi," you wave at him, still breathless. His face is completely relaxed, unlike yours, a smile plastered across it. You're wearing nothing special—just shorts and a sports bra—but his gaze still shifts, subtly eyeing you before he fixes his stare back on Jace. He's wearing Snoopy pants and a plain white t-shirt, making it evident that he just rolled out of bed, holding some letters in his hand. Tatyana must have sent him out to collect the mail.

"You should run with us," Jace tells him, nudging him on the shoulder. Then he gestures toward you, pointing a finger. "I have to keep this one in shape, and I need help because she's awful company."

"Oh, shut up."

"You've been whining for the whole run!" he insists, throwing you an annoyed look while Ilia witnesses the sibling interaction with an amused expression. "No, ever since this morning, before we even started running."

"Because instead of helping me gradually build stamina, you just force me to run for over an hour and I'm exhausted!" you argue, looking over at Ilia so he can prove your point. "You're an athlete. Tell him that he's an awful instructor."

"I fear she's right, Jace."

"What's up with you always agreeing with her lately?" Jace rolls his eyes, throwing him a dirty look. The smile washes off your face, but he doesn't notice it. He doesn't notice either when Ilia nervously shifts, his smile turning awkward. "You're supposed to be my best friend."

"It's not like you own him."

"I own him more than you do."

Jace winks at you, convinced that he's made a point, while you bite down on your tongue before you regret the next words escaping your throat. Ilia must notice that Jace's words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, because he swiftly changes the topic, talking about their next hangout as you look at your watch, contemplating that you should just go home.

"I'm streaming this afternoon."

"What are you going to play?"

"Probably Fortnite again."

"Bro, people are tired of watching you play that shit," Jace groans, his dislike of Fortnite shining through. It's a topic he and Ilia still haven't agreed upon after all these years. "Even Geometry Dash is more entertaining."

"I was going to play FIFA with Jacob, but he ditched me for practice," Ilia sighs, and even though your eyes are fixed on your phone screen, you can feel him subtly glancing at you. "I asked your sister to accompany me, but she turned me down… playing Valorant would be fun."

Feeling both of them burning their stares through your skull, you lift your head up, shrugging as you purse your lips. "I don't really want to engage with your crazy fangirls."

"People usually behave, and I have mods."

"Yeah sis, show him some generosity," Jace backs him up, to your surprise, your eyes squinting at his behavior, which seems suspicious. "Teach him how to play Valorant properly."

"I can absolutely play Valorant!"

"I said properly," Jace grins, slapping his back in what is supposed to be an affectionate way. Then he backs up a few steps, looking at you with determination as he motions for you to follow him. "Now come on, one last lap."

You throw Ilia a helpless look, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips as he mouths words you absolutely cannot decipher. Then you leave him there, jogging after Jace as you glance behind your shoulder every few seconds, only to find him staring right back at you.

You: NO

Ilia: Come ooon

Ilia: It's gonna be Fun

Ilia: I want to stream with you

Ilia: Please :(

You stare at the screen, then back to the clock, contemplating whether you're ready to give in and accept his invitation or not. Occasionally streaming with Ziggy and Cam is fun because the chat is chill, and mostly the conversation is just about Valorant or other games you play together. But even from just watching bits of Ilia's stream a handful of times, you know his is drastically different. You know you'll probably get dragged online for no reason, because some fans can just be that crazy.

Maybe you just don't have the heart to turn him down, or maybe a secret, deep part of you wants to remind others of your existence and your place in his life. It sounds stupid, but when another text comes through—this time a picture of him making a pouty face—you find yourself smiling. You agree without giving it any further thought.

Jace helps you set up the camera, removing a few plushies from your bed because he insists they leave a "loser impression" of you. He takes Dusty too, with the excuse that she might be frightened by the loud noises you and Ilia will probably make, but really he just wants to cuddle her.

"You're all set up!" he exclaims with unusual enthusiasm, patting you on the back as he leans in to wipe the lens once again. "Destroy his ass."

"Why are you so excited about this?"

"Because you're a good gamer and I want people to appreciate you."

"Are you soft-launching that you want me to become a full-time Twitch streamer?" You squint your eyes at him, an almost disgusted expression plastered on your face.

"Nah, you donut, you're way too intelligent to be a Twitch streamer," he ruffles your hair, earning a sharp slap on the arm in exchange. He backs off toward the door, clutching Dusty in his hands while she looks at you with a helpless expression. He's about to walk out when he stops, whipping his head around as he squints at the t-shirt you're wearing. "You stealer, that's mine."

"Start learning how to do your laundry, maybe then you won't lose your clothes," you grin at him, completely omitting the fact that it isn't his shirt at all, but Ilia's. "Okay, go now, Ilia is calling."

"Alright."

He disappears, the door softly clicking shut behind him. It takes you and Ilia approximately five minutes to figure everything out, him ceaselessly reminding you that it's nothing to worry about even though you aren't showing an ounce of uneasiness. You're not so bad at pretending.

"Okay, I'll start the stream in a minute."

"Alright."

"You should start streaming, and then I'll send you an invite you can accept."

"I know how this stuff works," you laugh out loud, rolling your eyes at him while he stares back at you with a wide smile. "You should clean the mess behind you before they start making fun of you for having a messy room again."

"Literally, what am I supposed to do with these?" he gestures helplessly behind himself. "It's a mountain of plushies!"

"And a half-ass made bed, along with empty chocolate wrappers on the nightstand."

"Okay, stop judging me!" he huffs, giving you a pouty look. "Do you want to do a shared chat?"

"Sure, it's not like people will be watching my stream anyway."

"No, I'm sure they will." He says it with a determination that amuses you, but you don't argue.

You try to recall the last time you did this—not streaming on Twitch in general, but doing it with him. It was back in 2023, when he was supposed to play with Jace. Since your brother caught a cold, you were summoned to sub in for him. It lasted maybe an hour before Ilia got bored. Jace joked that he ended the stream early because you beat him at every single game.

The moment you go live, you have three viewers: your best friends Ziggy and Cam, and another online friend you sometimes play with. They immediately flood the chat, the inside jokes never ceasing until you tell them to keep their mouths shut. Ilia sends you the invite soon after, and then his face pops up on your screen. His chat starts flooding in, and your throat goes dry for a second before you manage to smile, your voice coming out softer than usual.

"Hi."

The all-caps messages quickly catch your eye. Most of them are asking who you are, some of them already know, and a few are showing you love that takes you aback. Ilia quickly introduces you, a bitter taste lingering in your mouth when he refers to you as his friend—but it's fine. You both know it's not true. You shouldn't care about what outsiders believe.

"Why are you reloading? You had twenty-two bullets!"

"I forgot about it, okay?!" Ilia's voice comes through your headset, sounding slightly panicked.

You sigh, keeping your eyes locked on the screen. "Don't you dare peek."

But it's already too late. The second Ilia swings the corner, a shot rings out. You watch him drop right in front of you. You hear him groan, irritation seeping into your own voice. "I told you not to peek!"

"I thought I could get him," Ilia says, immediately trying to defend himself. "I had the angle."

"No, you had confidence. That's different," you note, a layer of smugness coating your voice. You peek at his webcam for a second to find him smiling. "You're so bad at this."

"Everyone starts somewhere!"

"Guys, even Liza plays better than him," you snort, leaning back against your seat as you watch your own agent die, surrendering the round to the opposite team so you can start another one with Ilia. So far, you've only won three times.

"Let's take a break for a while and answer some questions," Ilia announces, leaning close to his screen so he can read the comments. He squints until his face falls, a disappointed expression shooting in your direction. "Never mind. I shouldn't have."

You laugh, reading the comments that keep roasting him in contrast to praising you. He spends the next two minutes scanning the questions, trying to involve you, but mostly you keep to yourself. It's his stream, after all. And it's not like most of these people care about you.

"Someone's asking about our favorite superheroes," Ilia laughs like it's obvious, his gaze wandering behind you, looking at the Spiderman poster displayed on your wall. "I think yours is Batman, right?"

"Yes, either him or Quicksilver," you grin, going along with him, purposely sliding around in your chair so you can give them a better view of the poster. "I like lots of superheroes, with a few exceptions. Spider-Man is, like, so overrated."

"Yeah, totally."

"I feel like it's one of those superheroes targeted specifically for a children's audience."

"Yes," he says, a subtle smile tugging at his lips before he bursts out laughing. "I think we can play FNAF next, yeah."

"Oh my god, I love FNAF," your voice immediately gets excited. Leaning toward the screen, your eyes practically sparkle under the dim lights as you scan the comments. "Resident Evil too… Dead Space is definitely underrated, I agree… The last horror game I played, mhm, I think it was Soma."

"I have not played any of them."

"Sure you haven't," you snort at Ilia's comment, your eyes crinkling. "You get jump-scared all the time."

"I am gonna let that slide."

"Jace is working on a deadline, guys," you answer one of the comments, and the chat immediately floods with his name like they just remembered his existence. Then you squint at another message. "Oh my god, we do not look alike!"

"Who is she?" Ilia reads out loud. He spins around in his chair, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips when his eyes snap back to yours through the screen. "Jace's annoying little sister."

You laugh, not even slightly offended by it, because you know this time he doesn't mean it. You find yourself enjoying the secrecy you two share right in front of a chat of a few thousand people. Ilia proceeds to answer some questions regarding his training and skating, and then you two are just about to boot up Five Nights at Freddy's when a blur of motion cuts across your vision. Dusty comes sprinting across your keyboard, pausing for a second to look at the bright screen.

"Oh, hi Dusty," Ilia coos from the screen, his voice turning high-pitched just like when he talks to his cats. "That's her chinchilla, guys."

You scoop her up before she flees, gently pressing a kiss to her fur before you let her go. She immediately sprints down from your shoulder, jumps onto the bed, and settles somewhere behind the pillows.

"Ilia is scared of Dusty, guys."

"Stop spreading misinformation!" his voice rises in disbelief, shaking his head like he's deeply disappointed in you. "I'm not, guys. I love animals."

"Yo, what's up, bro?"

Suddenly, a loud noise breaks the flow as Jace comes into the frame, slapping his hands down on your shoulders. He makes you jolt, and you throw him an annoyed look through the lens.

"Hi, Jace."

"Hey, everyone," he waves at the camera, hovering over your chair as he looks at the chat, his smile wide and impossible. "Did my sister beat your ass?"

"I fear she did."

"Well, it's my turn then," he grins, motioning for you to get up. You look over your shoulder, giving him an offended look, but he completely ignores you. "I finished the deadline. Let me play with him, sis."

"We were about to play FNAF."

"Ilia sucks at that game."

"Bro, can't I just enjoy games?!" Ilia complains, shaking his head. "I don't have to be good at it."

"That's an excuse bad gamers use."

"My god, you're so annoying." You stand up from the chair, removing the headset and handing it to him because you know he won't leave you alone anyway.

A twinge of irritation sets in as he settles into your chair, seamlessly resuming the stream with Ilia as if you were just a temporary placeholder for him until he arrived. You know Jace doesn't have ill intentions, and he definitely doesn't realize the weight of what he's doing, but a sharp prickle of anger burns through you nonetheless. You close the door behind you and head down the stairs with an excuse of getting something to eat. He yells after you to make your signature pasta and leave some for him.

You ignore him. But when you get into the kitchen and start prepping the sauce while the water boils in the pot, you find yourself rationing enough for more than just yourself.

Your phone buzzes on the counter.

Ilia: Are you mad?

You almost roll your eyes at the question, but a smile still tugs at your lips because he noticed, and he cares.

You: just a bit annoyed

Ilia: I'm sorry

You: it's fine, it's not your fault

Ilia: He just invited me over For a Movie night

You: should I make pasta for 3?

Ilia: Yes please

You grin at the messages, locking your phone away and setting it on the table. He hasn't slept over since that night, and the thought of him staying in the room right next to yours while Jace sleeps dead to the world leaves you both excited and nervous.

Ilia arrives shortly after they end the stream. The pasta is ready, and the three of you eat at the table, no longer waiting for your dad because he decided to get drinks with his friends and called to say he might crash at a friend's place tonight in Washington—which means he definitely isn't coming home.

"What's up with him always staying somewhere else lately?" Jace asks, giving you a weirded-out expression as he shrugs his shoulders. "He has conferences, like, every two weeks."

You stop eating, briefly sharing a glance with Ilia to see that he confirms your thoughts. You straighten your spine, wiping your mouth with a napkin as you pause, unsure of how to strike up a conversation about it.

"Jace…"

"What?"

"You really think he's traveling for medical conferences?" You raise an eyebrow, trying so hard not to make him feel stupid, but failing anyway.

"What do you mean?" He furrows his eyebrows, looking at you first before his eyes lock back onto Ilia, who stays silent, letting the two of you settle it. "Where else would he be going?"

"Jace, he's seeing someone."

"What?" He snorts, rolling his eyes like you've said something impossible. Maybe it isn't supposed to, but it makes a spark of anger ignite within you. "Come on."

"Why is that so funny to you?"

"Because it's dad we're talking about."

"So?!"

"Why would he be sneaking around behind our backs?" he asks, looking at you in confusion. While you don't have a definitive answer to that question, you still can't believe he hasn't realized it until now. "He's an adult."

"I don't know, but do you seriously think he attends all these medical conferences and goes out to grab a drink with Dale every week with an excuse not to come home at night?" You roll your eyes, huffing at how stupid it sounds. "It's clear that he's seeing someone. I don't know why he feels the need to hide it from us, and I'm not going to bring it up until he does, but I thought you knew about it and we just didn't discuss it."

"Yeah, I haven't really thought about my dad sneaking behind my back like a teenager," his voice turns frustrated, something bitter laced in his tone.

He resumes eating, your eyes snapping back to your plate as you feel Ilia squeezing your hand under the table. Abruptly, Jace drops his fork, the clinking noise loud against his empty bowl. "I don't understand why he would hide it! It's not like we're children and we'd get mad or something!"

"I don't know, Jace."

"So, Dad is having a secret relationship behind our backs," he snorts, repeating the words like he's trying to let the information sink in. He leans across the chair, squinting his eyes as he looks at you for a second. Panic almost settles into your body because you can't quite decipher his expression. "Are you, by any chance, too?"

You roll your eyes, shrugging off his question as a joke. Thankfully, he doesn't dwell on it, and most likely, he doesn't notice the quick glances you and Ilia share with each other either.

Since you usually don't tag along with them when Ilia comes over and the movie Jace chose is boring to you, you go upstairs to your room, finishing the book you started a few days ago before you play with Cam and Ziggy for a while. You barely get a chance to talk to Ilia, and it only happens when you go downstairs for a snack while Jace is in the restroom.

"Streaming was fun," he murmurs, leaning against the counter while you cut up some fruit. You give him a piece of peach, which he takes without hesitation. "We should do it again."

"Maybe."

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

"I did, before Jace crashed it."

He sighs, giving you a pouty look as he leans in, quickly pressing his lips to yours, letting you taste the sweetness on his lips. You smile through the kiss, fixing his hair that's been growing out steadily over the past few weeks. A part of you wants to beg Tatyana to cut it again.

"Are you going to sleep?"

"It's not even 11 p.m. yet."

"Would you, um… would you like a cuddle buddy afterward?" he asks almost shyly, your heart on the verge of bursting at how adorable he is. His blue eyes sweep over your face, his cheeks flushed with heat.

"Are you asking for permission to sneak into my room?"

"Respectfully."

"Then you have it."

You reciprocate his grin, leaning in one more time to kiss him again before you hear Jace's heavy footsteps on the stairs.

They stay up way past midnight, both of them entirely engaged in their game, not even noticing you when you go down to get a glass of water and slip right past them.

It's way past 3 a.m. when you lock your phone and put it aside, Ziggy finally recalling that he has to wake up early tomorrow for his fencing practice. It keeps raining, the drops hitting against the window making a pleasant sound to fall asleep to, but you keep tossing in your sheets, unable to find a comfortable position.

Your eyes are shut tight when you slowly feel drowsiness wash over you, and just as you're about to drift off, you're snapped back to wakefulness. The floor creaks, the footsteps light as he quietly closes the door behind him. You keep your eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you feel the mattress dip down. He carefully climbs under the blanket, the weight of his legs subtly pressing against yours. You feel him shift closer, slowly circling an arm around your waist as he leans down and presses a light kiss to your cheekbone. You can't contain the smile that breaks across your face when he tucks his chin over your shoulder, his breath fanning over your neck.

"I know you're awake," he murmurs, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Switching sides to face him under the moonlight that spills into the room, you make out his nose and blue eyes, his grip tightening around your waist. Throwing your leg over his waist to chase his warmth, you snuggle deep into his chest, a content hum escaping your throat as his familiar scent floods your nostrils.

"I couldn't sleep," he whispers, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I thought you were long asleep but I'm pretty sure I heard you giggling, like, fifteen minutes ago."

"Yeah, Ziggy said something stupid," you smile, a chuckle escaping your throat at the memory. Sliding your hand under his t-shirt because his warmth is comfortable against your skin, you trace lines on his back, wishing you could somehow close the distance that doesn't exist between you two anymore—wishing you could completely let him swallow you in. "You can't fall asleep here."

"Just let me stay for a little bit," he mumbles. "I'll sneak out early." "Mhm."

The silence, the soft sound of the rain, and the warmth of his body against you feels just right, leaving you ready to let sleep consume you. But then, you notice his body suddenly stiffen. His breathing hitches. He stops moving completely, freezing like a statue against you. Before you can even ask what’s wrong, you feel the hardness pressing against your thin shorts, your eyes slowly opening as the realization sinks in.

"Oh, fuck," he murmurs, gently pushing you away, untangling his legs from yours and rolling onto his back. He groans, covering his face with his arm, refusing to look you in the eye. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—I mean, fuck, I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's fine."

"No, it's not," he insists, clearly unable to let the initial embarrassment go. "We were having this sweet moment and I got a boner like a schoolboy."

"I mean, I'm honored."

He huffs, a breathless chuckle escaping your own throat at his stubbornness. You glance toward the closed door, your pulse picking up just enough for you to feel the heat radiating from your body. Licking your lips, you glance back at him, sprawled on his back, still refusing to look at you. You stretch out your hand, gently touching his arm. "Do you, um… do you want me to help?"

Ilia drops his arm from his face, his blue eyes widening. He looks at you like he can't quite process what you just said. "What?"

"I mean…" You shift a little closer, your voice dropping to an absolute whisper, shy as you feel your face burn with heat. "Jace is right down the hall. We can't do it. But I can… you know."

He sits up, biting down on his lip as he stares at you. "You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"You don't have to, really—"

"Ilia," you stop him, pressing your palm against his mouth until his body relaxes. "I want to."

You remove your hand, leaving his mouth slightly agape as he stares up at you. Before you can overthink it, you nudge him back into a comfortable position, throwing your leg over his thigh to straddle him. Your fingers are almost trembling when you reach the waistband of his shorts, slipping your hand underneath to wrap your palm around him. The moment your hand makes contact with his burning skin, a low breath hitches in his throat. His mouth falls open, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"Ilia…" You lean in, your face so close to his that you can feel his hot breath on your skin. Your own body is slowly setting on fire, something twisting deep in your stomach as you feel your shorts getting damper. Brushing your lips against his ear, you whisper, "You have to be quiet."

"I am trying," his voice is weak, so soft that it makes your chest tighten. "It’s just… you’re really warm."

You take his hand, placing it on top of yours where it's wrapped around him, silently asking him to guide you. With pure instinct and the direction of his trembling hand against yours, you begin to move, the rhythm clumsy at first before you adjust to the unfamiliar feeling. The moment you find a steady pace, his eyes flutter shut.

"Like that?" you whisper, your face burning as you watch him completely unravel under your touch.

"Yeah," he chokes out, his other hand digging into your hip. "Exactly like that. Just… don't stop."

His head rolls back against the bedframe, his chest heaving up and down in shallow, ragged breaths. His hand falls away to his side, letting you fully take control. The sight of him is enough to make your mouth water, your own breath uneven as you pick up the rhythm.

He lets out a soft whimper, the stillness of the room pierced by the sudden rise in his voice. You lean in to kiss him, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth to keep him quiet. You continue moving your hand up and down, feeling his hips subtly shift against your palm. As you swirl your tongue over his, he abruptly pulls back, his mouth glistening in the dark.

"Wait," he mutters suddenly, his eyes snapping open. His gaze looks almost drunken in the moonlight. He grips your wrist, slowing you down for a fraction of a second. "Hold on, I don't want to—"

"It's okay," you whisper fiercely against his cheek, leaning your weight into him to keep him right there, refusing to let him pull away.

He lets out a defeated, ragged sigh, his fingers locking tightly between yours as you guide him through the final moments. His entire body goes rigid, a tremor running straight through his muscles as he buries his face deeply into the crook of your neck, smothering a heavy groan right against your skin.

For a minute, he stays just like that, the ragged sound of his breathing slowly quietening down. Gradually, the tension in his body drains away, leaving him completely relaxed against you. He pulls his hand back, his face still half-buried in your shoulder as he lets out a long, exhausted breath.

"Wow," he murmurs, finally looking up at you. His hair is a total mess and his cheeks are flushed a deep red. A quiet, shy smile touches his lips. "That was… woah."

You let out a quiet, breathless laugh, reaching over to grab a tissue from your nightstand to clean your hand. As you're about to climb off him and slide back into the warmth of the bed, he stops you, keeping his grip on your waist tight so you don't move.

"You think I'm just gonna let you sleep after that?"

He leans in, his voice soft and his mouth warm against your skin as he places a gentle kiss on your neck. One of his hands slides up underneath your top, your eyes fluttering shut when he slowly trails his fingers to your breasts. A shiver runs down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat when he cups them with his palms. His fingertips brush across your hardened buds as you throw your head back, biting down on your lip so a moan doesn't escape your throat—because if it does, you know it'll be impossible to contain yourself.

You offer no resistance as he pulls the shirt over your head, his stare almost hungry. He gently nudges you down onto the mattress, hovering over you while he continues trailing kisses down your chest. The moment his mouth closes around your nipple, your back arches instantly. You bury your fingers into the bedsheets, gripping the fabric until your knuckles turn white to stifle the muffled gasp tearing from your throat. His hands slide down to your hips, removing your shorts in one smooth motion that leaves you entirely exposed to the cool air of the room.

With the end of the triple header, it was time to for a little break. And that little break was spent with Kimi doing his schoolwork during the morning and early afternoon, then training (for Kimi) and physical therapy (for you) in the late afternoons and the nights... well the nights...

"Osc, don't you dare!" Lando yells and your ears ring a little on the other side of the call.

Your boyfriends are currently playing Mario Kart in their Monaco apartment, while you watch some series in your Imola apartment. But you're only half paying attention, because you keep laughing at Oscar and Lando.

Oscar, who's smirking mischievously as he targets Lando's character once again, crashing him out from in front of him. Oscar then takes the lead while Lando is yelling at him and you just laugh at the two of them.

Oh how you wish that they were beside you.

It's only a couple days more until you have to go to Canada and there you would finally reunite.

But to be fair, it hasn't even been that long since you've been in the same place. It's just that ever since you got together, time without them seems to pass so slow. You want to spend time with them, doing whatever you can together (mostly cuddle).

That was your favorite thing in the whole world. Cuddling with your boyfriends, them holding you close or you holding them close. It didn't matter which way it happened, you enjoyed it all. Even when Lando would sometimes poke at you and even when in retaliation you'd press your cold feet against his warm waist. Even when Oscar would just laugh at the two of you in that terribly fond way.

You sigh and watch as Lando wrestles Oscar for finishing in front of him. Yeah, you can't wait for Canada.

Canada was warm when you arrived with the Mercedes team. But it was still better than other parts of the world, where the summer heat started creeping in. You couldn't even think about how it would be in a few weeks, how warm it would be. You were glad for the weather for now.

As much as you were glad for your boyfriends, who came over every evening for a bit of time spent together.

"Ah, I needed this," you murmured on the first evening as Lando laid halfway on top of you.

"You and me both," Lando agreed, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"Okay, give me space too," Oscar entered back into the room after his trip to the bathroom. "I wanna be in the cuddle pile too."

"Choose a space then," Lando looked up at him for a moment. "But you cannot be in the middle, I already reserved this space," he teased and pulled his arms closer around you.

"Fine, but tomorrow I'll be in the middle," Oscar stuck his tongue out and approached the bed, laying down next to Lando, arms circling around his waist.

"Fine," Lando sighed out and closed his eyes in bliss.

"The day after can be mine, right?" you asked squeezing Lando's shoulder.

"Yep," the two answered immediately.

Then came media day and free practice Friday and quali Saturday. During the day you worked hard with Kimi, giving him tips and tricks, though it seemed he didn't need it that much. All the training that you helped him with during the free week seemed to amount in a good preformance. So much so that he ended up in fourth place after qualifying ended.

"That could be a podium tomorrow, right?" Kimi asked after the debrief, looking excited.

"Could be, if you work hard for it," you smiled at him. "And we'll do everything in our power to push you through it."

"I'll do whatever it takes," he smiled too.

And that was that.

Today though as you prepare for the race start, Kimi's radio check comes with a little uncertainty.

"Radio check," Kimi replies back. "Y/n, I'm a little worried about the two behind me."

"You don't have to," you tell him gently, though you understand his worry. "You just have to pay attention to yourself and what happens in front of you. Oscar and the McLaren usually have a good start, but anything can happen. Keep turn 1 clean."

"Yeah," Kimi sighs.

"Take a deep breath, little wolf," you hum. "It's all gonna turn out great."

"You shouldn't make promises like that," Kimi chuckles.

"I'm not. I just trust your abilities."

And it's true. You're aware of Kimi's abilities, the way he's aware on the track, how quick his reflexes are.

It's proven right at the race start, where he manages his position perfectly and takes third place. And despite Oscar's advances, Kimi manages to keep it until he has to pit for a new set of tyres. He emerges fifth, an amazing place to be after a pitstop.

By lap 30, he's back to third place, but the two McLarens are right behind him. He fights against Oscar with all his power, only slightly panicking once or twice to you and Bono on the radio.

Lap 38. With Max pitting, Kimi comes up second, and even if only for a little while, but he starts bridging the gap between him and George.

"Box box," Bono tells him in lap 39 and you can hear him sigh but he takes the turn and comes in for a new set of tyres.

"Good job Kimi," you tell him, trying to keep the faith in him.

It's still a long road to the checkered flag, and you know that Kimi needs a little reassurance. He has been stressed about a lot of things and the Canadian grand prix came at a really bad time with Kimi having to study for his exams. So as he emerges from the pitlane in 6th, you try to keep his stress in the optimal range for him to do a good job on track.

Lap 46 is when Kimi comes up to fifth, when Oscar pits in front of him. Then a lap later Lando pits, so he's fourth.

"Doing good, Kimi," you encourage him. "Just pay attention to tyre deg. You can do this."

It's an intense race, especially on lap 54, when Charles pits at the front and Kimi slides back into third place. But Oscar is close behind and you can almost feel Kimi start freaking out.

"He's always behind me," he whines as he defends against one of Oscar's attempts.

"Yeah, mate, that's kinda how racing works," Bono jokes on the radio to lighten Kimi's mood a little.

"Just be calm and be smart," you add with a light smile on your face. "You can do this."

"Copy that," Kimi sighs.

Just two laps later, when Kimi's attention wanes a little, Oscar almost gets past him.

"Shit, he's faster," Kimi mutters on the radio. "What should I do? Y/n, please help."

"You're doing good, cucciolotto," you tell him, your tone as calm as you can manage. "He may be faster, but you can be smarter. Don't panic now, you know exactly what to do. We've talked about this."

"Yeah, yeah," Kimi says and you can hear it from his tone that he does remember the conversation.

And he manages it all, beautifully. All the simulator runs that you talked him through, all the conversations that you had with him about situations like this, it culminates in this. This fight.

On lap 67 though, things take a turn. Oscar and Lando have been fighting for fourth place for some time by then and you knew how frustrated Lando must have felt. And that frustration is obvious by the way he dives for a space that isn't really there.

It culminates in Lando crashing into Oscar's rear. The damage is only bad on Lando's car seemingly, as he rolls to a stop in the grass. His full front wing is missing and you can see on the broadcast that he's holding his head.

"Are you alright dude?" comes through the radio from the McLaren pitwall.

"Yep, I'm sorry. It's all my bad. All my fault," he rambles, sounding frustrated. "Unlucky, sorry. Stupid from me."

Your heart aches for your boyfriend, but can't dwell on it as Kimi's radio crackles.

"Was that my fault?" he asks, having witnessed the carnage behind him in the rearview mirror.

"Nope, they lagged behind by then," you tell him, voice steady.

"Is everyone involved okay?"

"Yes, Lando is alright," you hum in response.

It's quite calm behind the safety car, knowing that they probably won't have a restart with only a few laps left. At least that's what you think. Because George is still warming his tyres and slows, which is unexpected by Max, who pulls to the side to not crash into him at the speed which he's going at.

When George's radio comes through, you shake your head in distaste. You never liked the mindgames that George plays. Not when you raced against him, not now. But you don't speak out about it, you keep your distaste to yourself.

They cross the finish line one final time, the checkered flags waving. Kimi is in third and you can't help the wide smile that spreads on your face.

"That's p3, my love!" you tell him on the radio. "Congrats, congrats!"

"Oh my God, oh my God..." is all that comes through from his side.

"How does it feel?" Bono asks and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Amazing!" Kimi's voice is excited. "Thank you guys, great work."

"Grande Kimi!" Toto joins in. "Little Kimi grows grande!"

You laugh and watch the screen as Kimi celebrates. When he pulls into the third place, Bono places a hand on your shoulder, having stood up already.

"Come on, let's walk to parc fermé," he smiles down at you and you nod, grabbing your crutches.

It's a good paced walk to parc fermé, Bono helping you along to stand with the others from the team.

"Great job on keeping Kimi level headed," he tells you once you're standing underneath the podium.

"Thank you," you smile at him. "Amazing job on instructing Kimi. I've always admired what you achieved with Hamilton."

"Thank you," he smiles back and then both of your attention strays to the balcony, where they start announcing the winners.

With little difficulty, you balance your upper body on your crutches so that you can clap for Kimi first, then Max and finally George. As the two anthems play, you can't help but watch Kimi, who looks like he's on top of the world. His first podium. You can't help the tears in your eyes. It was a tough fight, but you did it. Kimi did it.

He beams when he accepts the trophy and lifts it immediately above his head. You can see his eyes search the crowd, then finally settle on you and if it's possible, his smile widens even more. He lifts his free hand and points at you and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. You cheer loudly for him.

And after the podium, Kimi is sprinting toward you, his trophy in hand. You laugh as he skids to a stop in front of you, trying his best to be gentle as he envelops you in a big hug, lifting you off your feet.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he mutters into your ear.

"It was all you, my love," you squeeze him. "Beautiful work, good job. I'm so so proud of you."

"Thank you, Y/n," he sighs. "Thank you so much for being here."

After the celebrations, after yelling too much and probably drinking too much too, you arrive back at the hotel, feeling tired but happy. To your surprise though, you find the lights on.

"You're home!" Oscar says as you find them on the bed.

"Why-" you start, but your brain helpfully supplies: "oh, right, I gave you a spare key."

"Yeah," Oscar nods. "How was the celebration?"

"Good," you smile, then you see that Lando's face is slightly red. In the 'I cried' type of way. So you approach the bed slowly and sit down, letting your crutches drop to the floor. "Oh my love, are you alright?"

"Yeah," Lando sighs and smiles softly. "Now I am."

His hand reaches for yours and you let him pull you closer. He's laying on Oscar slightly, his back pressing against Oscar's front. You fit perfectly in between Lando's legs though as your legs give out after a little and you lay on top of him.

"Was it about the race?" you ask him, resting your chin against his chest to look him in the eyes.

"Yeah," he sighs.

"But we've sorted it out," Oscar smiles and reaches his free hand to caress your back. "Kimi did really good today. His first podium..."

"Yeah, the first of many I hope," you smile and let your head drop against Lando's chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Hopefully one with you guys there as well."

"As long as I'm on the top step," Lando jokes gently and you chuckle.

"Or me," Oscar agrees.

"Hmm, how about no?" Lando teases.

"How about yes?"

"I want to be on top."

"We've had this conversation, you can be top anywhere else but on the podium."

"That's not what this season is proving."

"The season," you join in to stop their lighthearted bickering. "Is proving that both of you guys are on top. And I'm watching from the bottom of the podium."

"Hmmm," Lando pulls you a bit further up on him so that he can face you. "But you look good while doing it."

"Oh?" you smirk, but feel your face flush. "And you look good from the bottom..."

"Mhm," Lando flushes at that and leans in to kiss you.

"But," you stop him, his lips barely touching yours. "Oscar is the top."

Oscar chokes on a laugh (knowing full well what you're referring to) and you know just how red he probably gets. You don't get to see it though, because Lando finally kisses you through his own chuckle.

The air in the room changes, it feels charged with a different kind of tension. And your heart races with it. Lando kisses you deeply, with a rarely seen passion and you can't help but sigh into his mouth as his hands slide down your back.

He pulls away then, just enough to murmur against your lips.

"As long as I can be your top."

And you get in the words just as he dives in for another kiss.

"Okay."

It's a warm day in Austria when you arrive to the paddock. There's a lightness to you and to Kimi as well, who feels more than confident after his first podium in Canada.

And it shows in the first free practice where he drives confidently, ending the session higher than anyone expected. Now you walk with him toward the hospitality unit, talking about the session, his chances during the second free practice and also qualifying.

That's when someone steps out of the Ferrari garage with a force only the youth can have and bumps into you. Kimi's hands fly out immediately to steady you, months of doing so conditioning him.

"Oh, so sorry," the boy turns around and Kimi's face lights up as he recognizes Dino Beganovic.

"Ah! Dino!" he greets him. "So good to see you, mate!"

"Hi, Kimi," Dino smiles back and looks at you. "Hi. So sorry for bumping into you, I really should've payed more attention."

"It's alright," you smile. "Good to see you again. You were quick out there with the Ferrari. Once again."

"Ah, I tried my best," the boy laughs, a bit embarrassed. "I should really go, now. Though it was great to see you again."

Dino turns around to leave, but you stop him quickly.

"Wait. Actually it's good that you're here," you start as he turns back around, curiosity in his eyes. "I host these rookie dinners every month and I was hoping you would join us?"

"Why me? I'm not technically a rookie," Dino hums.

"I realized that we were at Prema at the same time," you smile. "And I feel like I should've realized it sooner, but my memory isn't what it used to be. So, I was hoping we could have a kind of... Prema reunion?"

"Oh, uh... sure," Dino blinks.

"That's an amazing idea!" Kimi gasps as he looks at you.

"Thank you," you huff a laugh. "So, what do you say to dinner?"

"Today?" he asks looking down at his phone. "Yeah, I could... thank you."

"Then I'll have Kimi send you the location and time," you reach out to squeeze his wrist. "And good luck for the rest of today."

"Thanks."

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, dinobeganovic, kimiantonelli and 463,279 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, dinobeganovic, kimiantonelli, olliebearman, gabrielbortoleto, isackhadjar

yourusername: ladies and gentleman i present to you a prema-union (plus isack)!❤️❤️ also known as the rookie dinner🙂‍↕️

at some point i'll manage to gather everyone for a proper prema-union, but this is all i could do for now. lovely to have you with us, @.dinobeganovic and @.oscarpiastri for this evening!🥰

view all comments

dinobeganovic: i didn't think it was gonna be this fun! thank you so much for having me!!❤️

yourusername: thank you for accepting the invite! it was great to hang out with you!

dinobeganovic: if there is ever an actual prema-union, i want an invite🥰

yourusername: of course!! i would never leave you out!!

oscarpiastri: thank you for including me🧡

yourusername: thank you for coming❤️

oscarpiastri: not like i'd ever say no to you🧡

landonorris: still salty i wasn't invited😭

yourusername: were you at prema with us?? no!

landonorris: not my fault you guys are babies😭😭

yourusername: well, not our fault that you're OLD

landonorris: the betrayal!! achk😭

gabrielbortoleto: ha OLD

landonorris: noooo

user1: i wanna know about these rookie dinners so much😭

user2: me too! i want content, it must be so fun!😭

user3: can you imagine? five teenagers and you have to pay attention to all of them😭

user4: these prema years >>>>

user5: oscar looks so happy to be there😭 what a cutie😭

kimiantonelli: can't wait for the prema-union!! we need to do it!!

yourusername: agreed!! i miss the prema days😭

oscarpiastri: honestly, me too, it was such a different time

olliebearman: i can't believe we never really interacted during the prema years. we should've!

gabrielbortoleto: we would've had a different time coming to f1, that's for sure

yourusername: don't even mention it, i'm yearning to get back that time

dinobeganovic: i mean, at least you guys are there together now?

yourusername: you'll be with us soon!!❤️

dinobeganovic: hope so!!❤️❤️

fred.vesti: sad that I wasn't invited😭

yourusername: you WERE though, you said you're busy😭

fred.vesti: and to think that i was your teammate and you DIDN'T invite me😭

yourusername: shut up, fr

oscarpiastri: sucks to suck, dude

fred.vesti: leave me alone😭

isackhadjar: you prema people are a different BREED

dinobeganovic: sorry that we're having FUN

kimiantonelli: someone is salty that they weren't at prema with the rest of us

olliebearman: damn hadjar, roll back the jealousy, it's stinking up the place

isackhadjar: maman!! help me!!

yourusername: darling, you started it...

gabrielbortoleto: yeah, hadjar!!

oscarpiastri: shouldn't mess with the prema people😬😬

isackhadjar: not you too...😭

user6: honestly, if they DO manage to get all the prema people together for a dinner...

user7: can you imagine the chaos? the rookies are ALREADY a handfull

user8: i CAN imagine the chaos and i CRAVE IT!!

user9: imagine the ogs together😭 rob, logan, arthur, oscar, y/n, fred... and all the younger ones like dino, paul, kimi, ollie, gabi, ARVID!! like it would be so chaotic, but also so so lovely😭

user10: omg, paul and arvid😭 do you think y/n would adopt them too??

user11: i mean, it already seems to me that she adopted dino as well😭

user12: what a lovely family they are🥺❤️

After a gruelling Saturday, where just nothing seemed to go Kimi's way, you hope that at least Sunday will turn out great. Kimi is starting from 9th place, which isn't great, but isn't terrible either.

So far everything up until the formation lap was great. It's warm and it was hell standing in the sun for the anthem, but you managed. The laps were great before the driver's parade. The driver's parade was fine. And now, the start procedure is okay too.

"Radio check," Kimi radios.

"Loud and clear, Kimi," you answer back. It's only a couple minutes until the formation lap and you can feel Kimi's tenseness through the radio.

"Great," he sighs.

"Breathing excercise, please Kimi," you tell him and you can hear another sigh from the other side. "Big breath in," the radio crackles as he does what you tell him. "Swallow," you instruct. "Blow the air through your mouth, slowly."

You found that this excercise helped him immensely to clear his head. It was a lucky find too. One night you were scrolling through your instagram feed and found one video about this technique and you decided to try it. It was originally meant to help him during the exams (which he completed beautifully considering the circumstances), but it proved so useful, you tried it before sessions too.

"Are you feeling better?" you ask him.

"Mhm," he hums back. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Then the minute ticks down and the formation lap begins. Watching the telemetry, everything seems to be going great. Then you glance at the broadcast, that shows that though most of the grid is already moving, Carlos is standing stationary.

"Oh no," you sigh and hope for the best for him. And as Lando approaches the starting grid, he does get going.

It comes in handy that the circuit is short this time, because Carlos goes around in little time and enters the pitlane. However as he stops at the pitlane exit, his breaks catch on fire almost immediately.

"What's happening to Carlos?" Kimi radios as you get the race control's order that a new start procedure will be in place.

"Probably a break issue," Bono answers him. "He couldn't get a start, then once he stopped in the pitlane, his breaks caught on fire."

"Oh, poor man," Kimi sighs and you can't help but agree him. It's terrible when issues like that arise.

"Yeah," you hum. "Try to stay in focus though."

The delay is long and it's never great to have. But, thankfully nothing happens during this start procedure and the drivers are allowed to go on their new formation lap. This time even the lights can go out and the cars shoot forward towards turn 1.

Kimi clears it beautifully, but in turn 2, he gets swarmed by all the midfield cars. It's messy and the result of that comes in turn 3, where he breaks later than he planned (a lock-up, if you're correct), and he collides right into Max.

It's not a terrible crash, but your heartbeat jumps a little. You feel terrible for what happened (as if you could've prevented it) and immediately reach for the radio button.

"Sorry about that, locked the rear. Sorry," Kimi is quicker and he sounds sad and guilty.

"You okay?" you ask.

"Yeah, sorry."

The first one out of the car is Max and though he's in his helmet, you know how he must feel. But when Kimi gets out of the car and goes to apologize, he seems gentle. You all know what it was.

A rookie mistake.

Something that had to happen for him too, at some point. It was just a shame that it took Max out of the equation too. And knowing Kimi, you imagined that that stung more than the fact that he himself is out of the race.

But it's all part of the learning process, which he's still a part of. And Kimi knows that too. As does Max, who states later in the interview that it was only a mistake and that there are no hard feelings over it. Which just proves to you how much Max has grown as a person and how truly amazing he is.

Which is why you decide to text him during the evening.

Then you switch to a different contact. Gabi, who did amazing during the race, ending up in 8th place, which was the best that he did since the start of the season.

"It's home race tiiime," Lando sing-songs as you enter along with him and Kimi to the Silverstone paddock.

"Mhm, heard you had your own stand, right?" you grin at him.

"I doo," he smiles widely, clearly excited. "It's so great, I really couldn't wait for this weekend."

"I know," you chuckle. "You've literally been talking about this since the race in Austria ended."

"Can you blame me? This is so exciting!"

"No," you sigh, looking at him with love clear in your eyes. "No, I really cannot."

"I'll go find Osc, see you during the lunch break?" he steps closer to hug you.

"Yeah, see you then," you nod into his shoulder and hug him back for a moment. "I love you," you whisper so only he can hear it.

"I love you too," he whispers back and when he pulls back, his smile is warmer than before. "Bye, Kimi," he reaches out to ruffle the boy's hair and then he walks off towards the McLaren garage.

Kimi smiles when he looks at you and you reciprocate it. You walk through the hospitality, chatting with Kimi about the possibilities of the weekend. Then both of your phones ping with a notification and you share a look before Kimi takes his own out.

"It's the rookies in the chat," Kimi says, reading the message. "Specifically Gabi. He's asking where we are."

"Why?" you ask, furrowing your brows.

"Don't know, he didn't say," Kimi hums while texting back.

"Should we wait for them here?"

"No, I told them to meet us half way," he shrugs and puts his phone away.

Meanwhile, the rest of the rookies, namely Ollie, Isack and Gabi are pulling a very confused Arvid Lindblad through the paddock.

"I'm telling you, you gotta meet her!" Gabi promises. "She's like the best person ever!"

"I don't doubt that," Arvid manages. "But is now really the time for it? We're on the track soon."

"Of course now is the time!" Ollie encourages.

"And we still have an hour until then," Isack waves it off. "You'll be plenty good."

"Honestly, you'll love her, believe me," Ollie agrees. "You won't feel like it's wasted time."

"Y/n!" Gabi yells through the paddock when he spots you and waves enthusiastically at you. "Come on!"

You turn towards the sound and Kimi looks out behind you. You notice the group. It's kinda hard to miss them as they push through the people, pep in their steps, each sporting a big grin.

Well, all except one, who's held by Gabi.

"Good morning, ducklings," you chuckle when they reach you. "Who did you kidnap this time?"

"This time?" Arvid squawks while Gabi lets him go to hug you tightly. "Do you guys make a habit of this?"

"No!" the rookies chorus, while you reply, "yes."

"Well..." Kimi hums, thinking about it. "Maybe we do."

You chuckle and look at the new face, whom you're sure you've seen around before. Maybe earlier in the year, or before that. You can't put a finger on it.

"So, Arvid, this is Y/n," Ollie introduces. "Y/n, this is Arvid. He was with us at Prema."

"Ah," you gasp. "Of course! We met very briefly during my time there."

"Yeah," Arvid lets himself smile and reaches out to shake your hand. "I'm Arvid Lindblad."

"Y/n L/n, a pleasure to finally officially meet you," you shake his hand, leaning heavily on your crutches. "You're driving today?"

"Yeah," he nods. "I'm really excited."

"I can imagine," you chuckle. "It's a really busy weekend for you, so good luck with everything."

"Yeah, it's busy, but wouldn't give it up for anything. I'm gonna do my best on every front."

"I'm sure you will. I can't wait to see you out there."

"So you'll watch me?" he asks and you can see his eyes light up, which makes your heart turn soft.

"Of course."

He positively beams at that and you feel like you're gonna melt. You can't help but reach out to squeeze his arm, not wanting to cross his boundaries but also not able to stop yourself. Clearly, you have a soft spot for the younger generation.

"See? This is why I said you'll love her," Ollie chimes in and when you look at him, you can see the wide grin on his face.

"Oh, you told him about me?" you raise your eyebrows.

"Of course, maman!" Isack smiles sweetly and steps in to hug you. "You're our grid mom, we're telling everyone about you. Especially those who have a chance of being on the grid."

"Woah, I wouldn't say it like that," Arvid winces. "We're all just testing."

"Well," you hum, looking at him. "Testing is one step closer to your dream. So, who knows?"

"That's how we all got here," Kimi agrees.

"In any case, I hope we'll see you on the grid soon," you smile encouragingly at the boy and he smiles back. "And now off all of us go, because we're gonna be late!"

"Oh, shit, you're right," Gabi looks at his phone where a message glints. "Nico is already searching for me."

"Honestly, you and Nico," Kimi teases and Gabi narrows his eyes at him.

"I agreed to meet with Esteban at the trailer," Ollie points in one direction and leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. "I'll see you later, mum."

"Yeah, careful on the track, darling."

"Always," he winks and jogs off.

"Gabriela!" comes a shout and Gabi looks in the direction of the voice, where Nico stands, his hands on his hips.

"Uh, shoot, that's me," he winces and turns back to you quickly. "See you later, mama," he leans his head down and you press a kiss to his forehead as he has come to expect. He grins at that and rushes off to Nico, who you can see is shaking his head, though with a smile on his lips.

"I'll walk with you," Isack shrugs. "Arvid, you too?"

"Sure," the younger agrees and so you and the three boys walk toward the garages.

The three next to you start chatting, cracking jokes to lighten the anxiety that (though Arvid hides it beautifully) radiates off of the youngest. You smile as Isack bumps his shoulder gently against Arvid's, his smile soft as he says something to him.

And suddenly you have a strong feeling that sooner or later, but Arvid will make it to Formula 1. And once he does, you'll officially adopt him into your group of ducklings.

Because he fits right in.

user15: he's so obviously upset about losing those grid places...

user16: can you blame him? he worked really hard for that third place. and now it's just gone like that :(

user17: i mean but he DID cause that crash in austria

user18: he's still allowed to feel upset about the penalty. he made a mistake and he's paying the price, but he can feel however he wants to feel!

user19: i'm sure y/n and him have a lot to work over with that😬😬

user20: soooo.... are we getting another kimi podium??

user21: guys! the weather forcast is saying rain for tomorrow😬😬

user22: well we know who LOVES a good rainy race

user23: thank you so much for always bringing the interviews to us tiff!!💜

user24: do you think that y/n and him talked about the penalty beforehand?

user25: definitely, i mean, it's not a huge penalty, but it still IS one, so she definitely talked to him about how he should deal with it

user26: "my mentor is really great at grounding my thoughts" my heart🥺🥺

user27: they're so mother-son coded🥺🥺

user28: kimi in the beginning of the interview:☺️ kimi at the end:😑

user29: sorry interviewer, you really know how to ruin someone's mood😬

Hours earlier than the race start, the rain starts falling. And it's heavy too. During the anthem, during the driver's parade, it's raining like it has to. For a while it's not even sure that you'll have a standing start.

But an hour before the is supposed to start, the rain stops and the sun comes out.

"This is gonna be a difficult race," you mutter to Kimi, who stands next to you as you both look at the sky.

"Yep," he nods and with a sigh, hugs you sideways.

"What's wrong, cucciolotto?" you hum, resting your head on his.

"I'm... still sad about starting sixth," he says and you sigh. "I know, we've talked about this, but... I can't help it."

"I know, my love. But we'll bring it back, I believe in you."

"And our strategy."

"And our strategy," you laugh and press a kiss to the crown of his head. Then you nudge his foot with your crutch. "Now go, get yourself in the zone, it's not long now."

He salutes to you jokingly and walks off to focus. You smile and walk to the pitwall, where you're staying for the first time. It was Toto's idea and you're kind of glad for a change of scenery.

The race start procedure is interesting. Everyone is on inter tyres with the drying track, but you suspect there could be need for the full rain tyres. Because during the formation lap the forecast is saying that there's a chance for rain.

There are some brave souls (or stupid, who's to say) that decide to change for slicks as the track dries fast. But when they suggest it for consideration (just as Kimi preforms a beautiful manouevre to overtake Lewis Hamilton in front of him), you're quick to shut their ideas down.

"We should change to slicks," one of the engineers suggest over the radio.

"I don't agree with that, it's still massively wet in sector 3," you're quick to add. "Plus there's chance for rain."

"We could be a lot quicker."

"It doesn't matter if we can save time if we crash in the last sector," you argue. "Wait with that decision just another lap."

"We'll-"

"We'll listen to Y/n for now," Toto stops the argument and you all focus back on the screens.

And your gut feeling proves to be right, because in lap 4, just as the VSC (a result of Liam's crash in lap 2), there's another crash. It's Gabi, who was on slicks.

"See?" you radio them, looking at them. "This is what I meant."

On lap 5 the Virtual Safety Car comes back as Gabi's car is retired and a lap later you're notified that there's rain incoming in about ten minutes. All the while Kimi is locked in an intense battle with Lewis. A battle that lasts until lap 10, when it is raining and Kimi suddenly overtakes Lewis.

You wince when Bono has to call him in for a tyre change, because his tyres were dying for the past two laps. You know that it stings for him to lose such a position and so quickly too. But there's nothing to do, so he goes out again on new inters.

On the end of lap 11, seemingly everyone and their mother pits, so that slides Kimi up to p2, right behind Oscar with a five second gap. Alex is close behind though and your mentee's only saving grace is that his car is faster than Alex's, so he keeps his position.

In the next couple minutes, the rain intensifies and you start to worry about his safety. Especially when he radios-

"Lot of rain in turn 8 through 14," his voice is clear through the radio.

"Copy that, be careful," Bono replies to him.

And not a minute goes by before he radios again.

"I can't see anything," he complains.

"I know, be careful Kimi," you tell him because you can see his camera and you can only make out blobs. Thankfully though, the race control seems to understand that the situation is turning dire and sends in the safety car.

"It's safety car now," Bono updates him, though you know that Kimi can see that too.

"Thank God," he sighs and you agree with him.

They circle around the track like that for a couple laps, the rain lessening as the minutes tick by. The cars spray water, making it hard to see anything on the onboard cameras. It's through that restart where Max (who has been behind him in third place since his own pitstop) suddenly overtakes Kimi and he's left to defend his position against Lando.

You catch sight of the broadcast then where it just changed to Isack's onboard. It's hard to see anything and you squint to make out anything through the curtain of water. The rain has thankfully stopped. Then, you see a Red Bull appearing almost out of nowhere and Isack crashes against it.

The reaction is almost immediate - and it's another safety car. You aren't even sure that Maylander even made it back properly to the safety car's resting place.

"What happened?" comes from Kimi.

"Isack Hadjar crashed into Yuki Tsunoda, he couldn't see anything," Bono explains.

"Yeah, man, I can't see anything either," he agrees.

"I know, let's hope the track dries," you try to calm him.

He makes a pitstop next lap and comes out right between Nico Hülkenberg and Pierre Gasly. Two people, who have been fighting against each other for a while.

"Amazing place I guess," you mutter and then wince, because the restart comes and it's... horrible to say the least. Kimi just barely dodges Nico's car as the line of cars suddenly come to a near stop. "Oof... that's messy."

But Kimi manages. Through the next laps he overtakes Nico with an ease and he hunts down Lance Stroll, pulling Nico with him. It brings fruit in lap 32, when he finally overtakes Lance after a small slip from the Canadian man.

The track is drying slowly, which makes the tyres overheat too, especially as Kimi chases Lando, who's 8,9 seconds ahead of him. You tell him that he can relax it a little, to keep the tyres alive a little longer.

Ten laps before the checkered flag, you finally call him out to change the tyres, bringing in the slicks. It's a mess there, with Oscar and Lando staying out on track, Kimi ending up behind them, then Nico in fourth, which makes you smile. Maybe it shouldn't, especially with you needing to focus on Kimi, but still. You can't help but be happy for the German.

"I'm slipping a lot here," Kimi radios on lap 46 and you can see him struggling in the corners.

"Yeah, be careful. It should be better on the next lap."

The last six laps pass by in a blur. The sweet scent of Kimi's second podium wafts closer and closer to you and you know that Bono feels it too when your eyes lock for a moment. But you keep quiet about it, letting duty take first place.

And then, it's reality. Kimi on second place, right behind the hometown hero Lando Norris. And third...

Oh the third makes your eyes water. Because it's Nico Hülkenberg, finally on his maiden podium after 239 race starts. An incredible feat.

And then Kimi is running toward you and you lean heavily on the barrier, hugging him tightly. He's beaming, his eyes shining as he squeezes you, clearly happy with the result.

"Congrats Kimi! You did so amazing, my love. So amazing!"

And he did, fighting against the big dogs, those more experienced than him. His second podium and this time, a step higher.

"Thank you, Y/n," he says into your hair, hiding there if only for a moment. "Thank you so much."

"I'm so proud of you."

He's pulled off after that, the obligations of those on the podium needing him. You watch the screen, where he soon appears with Lando and Nico. Though the words spoken aren't audible, you can see as Kimi leans down and congratulates Nico to which the German smiles widely and congratulates Kimi as well.

You see him sit in his place and lean forward, seemingly asking Nico about his race with Lando sometimes chiming in. You can't help but feel glad that Kimi is there to share this moment with Nico, and in turn Nico being there to share this moment with Kimi. Lando looks a little out of it though and you wonder what happened.

They watch the race highlights, talking about the different moments that are shown to them. And then the live feed switches to the outside view and it's time for the podium celebrations.

Nico comes out first, looking just a tiny bit lost, but also incredibly happy. Then Kimi, who's just a bit more experienced in the podium protocol. And then Lando, who looks happy to be on the top step at his home race. You feel proud of him, knowing the work he put in. And he catches your eye just for a moment and winks, and you know that that was meant for you. You smile happily at him.

The Mercedes team is loud when Kimi gets his trophy. But the Sauber team is louder than anything, clearly ecstatic by Nico's podium. Then the champagne spray comes and you watch as Nico struggles just a bit with making the champagne come out of the bottle and get interrupted in his attempts by a spray that comes from Kimi's bottle. Though you don't hear it above the music, you can see Nico laughing and turning his own bottle in Kimi's direction, who laughs in turn.

It's an amazing day and you wish for many more like this. For Kimi, for your boyfriends, for all your loved ones. You wish for them to be as happy as you feel in that moment.

Oscar slams the door to your hotel room shut and you wince. He has been in a mood since the race yesterday and though you tried most things that helped him in the past (giving him space, letting him vent, cuddling with him), nothing seemed to work. Lando looks at you with a frown matching yours before looking back at your boyfriend.

Oscar is biting at his lips, looking down at his phone with an angry expression. The tips of his fingers that are clutching his phone turn white with the force of his hold.

"Oscar..." you say gently, trying to not piss him off even more. "What are you looking at, my love?"

"These stupid people!" he basically growls and throws his phone on the bed where you're laying too. "They're saying that- argh!"

Lando sighs and picks Oscar's phone up from between you. The screen is alight with seemingly endless comments all about him. How he's a bad driver, how he's not talented, how it's only a matter of time before he joins all his rookie mates - out of F1.

You scoff at that and grab the phone out of Lando's hand, quickly managing the app, logging out of it.

"What are you doing?" Oscar asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Whatever I can to help you," you mutter and delete Instagram and Twitter in a couple moves. "This is ridiculous. You know it too," you hand him his phone back.

"What did you do?" he looks through his apps, seeing the two most offending ones gone. "Y/n, you shouldn't have done that!" he turns his attention to you, the fire in his eyes still burning.

"No, you're right, I should've done it sooner," you sit up and look at him sternly. "You know full well that we don't look at social media when the race didn't turn out the way we wanted it to!"

"This is my phone, I didn't give you permission-"

"I don't need permission to protect you," you cut him off, feeling the anger burn in you now, your italian blood getting the better of you.

"I don't need protection!"

"Clearly you do!" you retaliate, your voice raising just a little. "Look, I know you're angry and you have every right to be, but I'm not going to allow you to hurt yourself over this anymore!"

"That is not-"

"She's right, Osc," Lando takes on the role of the good cop, his voice gentle. "You settled into a cycle of being mad, calming down slightly and then stirring it all up again. It's not healthy anymore."

Oscar just looks at the two of you, clearly not knowing what to say to that. Even through all of his anger, he knows you're right. You both are.

"Now come here," you tell him, leaning back against the backboard.

"I don't-"

"That was not a request, it was a command," you cut him off again, raising one of your eyebrows, and with a huff Oscar does climb onto the bed.

He's immediately pulled down into a lying position by Lando, his arms locking around his chest, so that Oscar is facing you. He still looks annoyed, but not having his phone in his hands and having Lando hugging him calms him slowly.

"Little idiot," you mutter and reach out to rake your fingers through his hair. "Always making things harder for yourself," you pull on his hair just a tiny bit, trying to offset his anger.

"I'm not," he says petulantly and you scoff.

"You do," you lean down and kiss his pouty lips. "And I hate to see you like this."

"But now you have us," Lando noses at his neck. "You don't have to do it alone. You're not alone."

Oscar doesn't say anything but you can practically hear the gears turning in his head. You slowly slide down so that you're lying on the bed too as you wait for him.

"Tell us what you need," Lando murmurs against his neck. "Let us take care of you."

"I..." Oscar closes his eyes, anger easing out of his bones for the first time since the end of the race. Your hand finds his waist, rubbing circles there and he focuses on every inch of his body that's connected to you or Lando.

"You?" Lando prompts, hand over his heart, feeling the rhythm beneath his fingers.

"I don't know what I need," Oscar opens his eyes to find you looking at him.

"Let us help you then," you murmur, voice low. You lean closer to press a kiss against his lips and he sighs against you.

"Okay."

antonelli.fans.unite

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antonelli.fans.unite: some of kimi's radio on today's qualifying! congratulations @.kimiantonelli on the fourth in sprint and the third place in quali! we're with you!!🩵🩵

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user30: he foughts so hard today! and yesterday too!! after struggling so much during the free practice, sprint quali and now quali too, this is an amazing place to start!!

user31: i felt so bad for him, i'm sure he was really stressed

user32: can we talk about his sprint though?? like my boy was so damn good, he fought so well against charles for fourth place!!

user33: omg when he took back fourth?? like?? that was so damn smooth!!

user34: and in the end he was so close to lando too!! honestly, if the sprint was a little longer, i'm sure he could've fought for third place too!!

user35: he's shaping up to be a great driver!

user36: yep!! he's clearly as hardworking as his mentor! kudos to him!!

user37: i felt so bad for him all weekend, he was clearly so frustrated that nothing wanted to come together the way he wanted it to!

user38: i mean at least it came together when it really mattered!

user39: i can only imagine how stressed y/n was, like honestly. i was sweating even though i'm just watching all of this!

user40: can't wait for the race tomorrow!! our boy is GOING on that podium!!

Spa-Francochamps is a rainy place. You all knew that. There's hardly any time where at least one of the weekend's events isn't rained on.

And so it isn't a shock that the race starts behind a safety car. You're all hopeful that the race won't be cancelled, but the rain is consistent. And that results in the starting procedure being suspended.

"Well... we have at least fifteen minutes," Kimi comes in the garage, his helmet in hand.

"We do," you nod and roll into the place that his car is usually in. "What would you like to do until then? Do you want to just stay in focus or...?"

"Honestly, anything to make me less nervous," he sighs and sits on a free chair. "I'm just... so nervous."

"Understandable," you hum.

"It's just... the weekend hasn't been good, what if... what if it all comes crashing down now?"

"Then it comes crashing down," you say, though you know that it's not helpful. "There isn't much we can do about that. Focus on what you can control."

"It's easier said than done," he looks at you.

"I know, but... I mean what can you do if something breaks in your car?"

"Nothing."

"Right, what can you do if the strategy we made doesn't work out?"

"Try to work it out?"

"Can you do that now?"

"No?"

"There you go," you smile at him. "You shouldn't worry about the future. The future will worry about itself."

Kimi lets himself smile at that and looks down at his hands. He takes a deep breath. He is calmer now.

"Wow, when did you become so wise?" comes a teasing voice from the door and you roll your eyes.

"I've always been wise, thank you very much," you look to the side to find Carlos there, grinning.

"Is that what you tell yourself to sleep better?" he approaches the two of you and sits down next to Kimi.

"I sleep like a baby, I don't need to tell myself anything," you smile. "Why are you here anyway?"

"To learn all your secrets so I can take Kimi's position, duh."

"Duh," you shake your head while Kimi snickers next to Carlos.

Carlos smiles at you, his eyes warm as he looks at you. You smile back, unable to hide just how generally happy you are.

"I'm actually bored. I hoped your little ducklings would be here so we can all chat."

"Ah, I'm sure they're not far," your smile grows, knowing that the rookies have grown partial to you.

And you're correct, because there, in the door stand two lanky rookies. Gabi and Ollie.

"Hey guys," you greet them. "You got a break too?"

"What a surprise, right?" Gabi jokes and pulls a chair right next to you.

"Yeah, wouldn't have guessed," you hum and lean your head against his own as he buries his head in your shoulder.

"We think it's going to be at least half an hour until the race can restart," Ollie adds and sits down on the other side of Kimi. "We hoped to let time pass here."

"You can," you shrug. "I mean, at least it's fine by me. I love having you guys around."

"As you should, maman," Isack joins too, his teammate, Liam right behind him.

"Hey, could I join?"

"Absolutely," you smile at him kindly. "Grab a chair."

They do and you guys sit in a kind of circle. You notice Valtteri Bottas in the background, watching your little group with raised eyebrows.

"You can join too, you know," you tell him and he huffs before he smiles.

"I don't want to interrupt your little family hangout," he jokes and you grin.

"You could be the fun uncle," you suggest. "Anyway, you don't have anything to watch and look cool on live."

"That's not all I do," he scoffs, though you can see a smile in the corner of his mouth as he approaches you.

"Is it not?"

"No," he shakes his head and sits down into the little circle of rookies (and Carlos).

"Hm, could've fooled me," you tease to the joy of the rookies.

"Oh, family meeting without the dad? I'm offended," comes from the door and you see Max standing there with his hands on his hips.

"We're just getting started, you don't have to worry," Kimi waves at him, inviting him closer.

Max grins and joins the circle. The chairs are rearranged a little to accomodate him, but everyone seems happy to do so. You notice a camera focusing on your group out of the corner of your eyes and feel kind of happy that it's far away so that it can't pick up on your conversation.

"So, are we actually having an impromptu family meeting?" Max asks.

"I mean, we are here," you shrug your shoulder with a smile.

"Technically we're still missing the questionable family friends," Carlos grins with a knowing look toward you.

"And we're missing one of the uncles' questionable something-something," you reciprocate his look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Isack leans in, his face one of confusion.

"Nothing," you smile at him gently. "Absolutely nothing," you look at Carlos with a pointed look.

A natural conversation picks up after that, though you can feel Gabi's eyes on you for a while. You know that he suspects something (something that has to do with you and Oscar and Lando), he has since Imola (which seems like ages ago), but you play it off. And you will until all three of you agree to share it with more people than your immediate family.

And about twenty minutes into the impromptu break, the three missing pieces do arrive. Charles comes in first and without a word sits down next to Carlos. Then Lando, pulling a very exasperated looking Oscar behind him.

"Move, rookie," Lando kicks gently at Gabi's chair.

"No way, this is my place," Gabi crosses his arms while Oscar moves away from Lando and sits down on your other side without hassle.

"It is so clearly my place though!" Lando whines, then notices that Oscar secured a place next to you. "Oscar!"

"Just sit in a free spot," Oscar shrugs.

"But I wanna sit next to Y/n!"

"Well, I'm already sitting here, so... find a different place," Gabi hugs your arm for good measure.

"That is so unfair," Lando pouts, then sits down between Ollie and Valtteri, sulking very dramatically.

Isack and Ollie chuckle at his expression while Gabi grins victoriously. Oscar in the meantime leans closer to you and knocks your shoulders together, as inconspicuous as he can. You smile at him gently at that.

"Okay!" Kimi puts an end to the giggling and teasing. "Could we... maybe play a game?"

"A game?"

"Yeah!" Ollie jumps in, always eager for some fun. "We should play a game! Y/n, do you have any?"

"Uuhhh..." you blink a couple times, trying to think of something. "Hm, I mean... yeah, I guess? We could play a game for like... reflexes and concentration?"

"How does it go?" Oscar looks at you curiously.

"Well..." you roll your chair closer to the middle of the circle. "You should come closer so that your knees touch with the person sitting on your left and right," you instruct them. "You're going to put your right hand on the knee of the person sitting to your right," you demonstrate it and place your right hand on Gabi's knee. "Then you're going to place your left hand on the knee of the person sitting on your left."

"This is intimate," Max teases and looks at Charles, who sits next to him.

"Yeah, the game is simple from here, you need to tap once with each of your hands. First I'm gonna tap on Gabi's left knee, then Max will tap on Gabi's right knee, because his hand is next," you tell them and slowly demonstrate it. "Then Gabi's right hand taps, and then Charles' left... Good!"

You go a few rounds like that, the group understanding and getting used to the game.

"Okay, now that you got this, the real twist is here," you smirk. "If someone taps twice, the direction changes," some of them look confused, so you explain it a little differently. "We've been going counter-clockwise, right?" you show the direction with your hand and they nod. "If someone taps twice, we're gonna go clockwise."

The game starts slow, everyone concentrating and growing used to the rhythm. But slowly, gradually the rhythm grows quicker and people start becoming more and more comfortable with the direction changes. It's hard not to smile or giggle as the game is really fun and you notice some cameras capturing it.

Time passes by quickly like that, just having fun. And then you get notified that possibly in twenty minutes the race could restart.

"I think we should go and get ready," Max stretches.

"I mean," Kimi speaks up. "We could do my focus excercise together? Since we've already had fun together?"

Everyone is quiet for a moment and you understand. Everyone has their own way to get in the zone and that changes very rarely. Still, Kimi looks hopeful, probably wanting to spend a little more in the safety of this little circle.

"I'm in," Oscar is the first to say.

"Yeah, maybe it'll help us as much as it helped you," Lando teases Kimi, who smiles back shyly.

Slowly everyone agrees, some because they don't want to be left out, others because they genuinely are interested in the focusing excercise.

"Okay," you smile at them. "Straight backs, please. Then take a deep breath through your nose," you watch as everyone's chest moves up. "Swallow. Then blow a cool stream of air through your mouth," you instruct them. "Just nod or shake your head, no words, no overthinking."

Some nod, others close their eyes, finding the zone.

"Are you sitting up?"

They nod.

"Is it a comfortable position?"

There are some who shake their head, but most of them nod.

"Are you feeling relaxed?" The reactions are varied there and you feel just a little happy that you managed to make some of them feel relaxed.

"Was it hard to swallow?" Most of them nod, which you catalogue.

"Do you like yourself?" your heart clenches at the question, but also when some of them shake their head.

"Do you enjoy racing?" Everyone nods, which you expected.

"Is it warm in this room?" Some of them nod, some of them shake their head and you smile.

"Are you feeling relaxed?" you repeat the question and this time everyone nods and you're glad that the excercise helped them.

"Okay, take a deep breath," your voice is gentle as you tell them and they move at the same time, taking a big breath. "Swallow. And blow that cool stream of air."

The reaction after that isn't immediate in a rushed way, they all seem calmer and like they realised something about themselves through the excercise. Which is the goal, so you smile at them.

"Thank you so much for being here," you tell them and look around at everyone.

Gabi reacts first, leaning in and hugging you tightly. You hug him back, closing your eyes for a moment. Liam and Valtteri just stand up and leave the circle after that, while Max pats your back in a way you know means 'thank you'. Then Charles and Carlos move, almost in sync with each other and they lean down, one after the other to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you, carino," Carlos murmurs against your skin and you smile.

"Anytime."

Oscar squeezes your shoulder and you know that he really wanted to do more than that, but the cameras are still watching and leaves the garage. Lando follows close behind him going in for a quick but loving hug.

"Maman," Isack speaks up when it's only the rookies left in the Mercedes garage. You look at him and he looks toughtful. "Is it normal that it was hard to swallow the first time and easier on the second?"

"Yeah," you nod. "It has something to do with... being stressed I think? Or like being too... wound up, or however you say it."

"Ah," Isack hums then shakes his head and leans in to hug you. "Thank you for the excercise."

"Anytime, darling."

Ollie looks probably the most out of it and you let him have a moment to himself. Then roll closer to him, reaching for his hand.

"Are you alright?" you ask him gently.

"Yeah, I just... never realised..." Ollie swallows and looks at his hands. "Anyway, thank you, mum, for this," he forces a smile on his face.

"If you want to talk, we can. Later, after the race."

"Yeah, I'll... think about it," he agrees.

"Alright, now go and race, my darling," you tell him and press a kiss to his temple.

Gabi, who hasn't left yet, simply offers you his cheek and you chuckle before pressing a kiss there. He grins and leaves, walking after Ollie. Kimi is the last in the garage and he has his eyes closed, already on the next step of his pre-race ritual. You smile and leave him be.

At precisely 20 minutes after four o'clock, the race restarts behind the safety car. They circle around for four laps time, hoping to dry up enough of the track for racing.

The sun is shining by this time and the track is drying faster with the cars there, but you know it's still gonna be some time before all of it drives.

The race itself is eventful, especially as Kimi defends his second place beautifully. The strategy changes only a little, influenced by the other teams' strategies, but Kimi takes it all in a stride.

You'd say you're stressed, but the truth is, you have a feeling that the end result is gonna be how it was in lap 5. Of course you still think through every decision, talk with Bono when things seem uncertain, but deep down, you're sure that it'll all turn out great for Kimi.

And it is, because in lap 44, Kimi crosses the finish line in second place, at a comfortable distance from Charles, who comes in third.

"Beautiful job, little wolf," you tell him over the radio. "Beautiful, beautiful job."

"Thank you Y/n," Kimi laughs. "I could get used to this."

You laugh at that and share a smile with Bono, who seems just as happy that his driver is doing great in races.

The rookie is making himself known.

«Previous« [Masterlist] »Next»

“Hey!” said Samira falling at your side at the counter.

You were still too distracted by the two to even tear your gaze away and look at her. “Hey.”

Samira followed your eyeline. “You're staring, you know that?”

You nodded.

Robby rubbed at the side of his face as his cheeks flushed, Noelle shifted her weight onto her other heeled foot- apparently getting herself comfortable.

“Who is that, again?” asked Doctor Mohan.

“Noelle. She's from insurance.”

Samira nodded. “Noelle from insurance. Annnd do we like Noelle, from insurance?”

At that you realised just how transparent your glares might have been.

“Oh, you know,” you mumbled, finally looking back down to your tablet that had grown dark in the absence of movement. “It's our job to like everyone.”

Santos passed by you then, dropping herself down into your favourite chair in exhaustion. “Not everyone.”

“So we're all having a great day, I see,” you commented, sarcastically. However the sardonic tone of your voice was over-saturated with a loud laugh.

Your head practically snapped up to see Noelle laughing at something Robby had said. Even his face was scrunched up at his joke. You watched as Noelle's hand darted to his bicep, playfully hitting him in a way that could only be recognised as flirting.

You watched as Robby looked down to her hand on him and then he looked up, finding you and finding your watchful gaze. Only then did the pink in his cheeks subside and the wrinkles of amusement die.

“Didn't they have a thing before you and him got together?” asked Santos.

You sighed. “Yes, they did, thank you, Trinity.”

“Hey, just trying to be helpful.”

“Save it for the patients,” you said.

Robby took one step in your direction but you'd already dismissed yourself from Santos and Mohan, walking the ward like it was a battle field.

But you could hear your boyfriends heavy boots close behind you.

“Don't do that,” he said, calling after you.

“Do what? See a patient?”

“It's not what you think,” he said.

“Of course it's not,” you said, trying your best to be indifferent.

You knew about Noelle and Robby's history, just as you knew about his and Heathers, and his and the pathologist from upstairs, and the one from ortho. You knew and you understood, heck you'd even been around to joke about with Landon. Robby's famous seven-week itch.

Rumour had it before he finally got to hold your hand and kiss you whenever he liked he'd been trying to nail you down for years, but you weren't sure how much you believed.

It had been nine months, maybe closer to ten since you and Robby had officially started seeing each other. It was the real boyfriend-girlfriend deal where you could call each other at any moments of the day, could get take out together and discuss the boring things together.

Yet, you did none of that.

Robby and you didn't talk.

You fucked- but only each other. You worked on cases together- strictly professional. On the days where you were desperate there was an on-call room Robby could book out and steal time away with you.

But you didn't remember the last time you'd laughed like that with him.

“It's not,” said Robby again.

“Of course it's not.”

Robby sighed, falling closer behind you. “Well, it doesn't really sound like you believe me.”

“I believe you,” you said. “Do I believe Noelle...”

“Oh, c'mon,” Robby chuckled, like the very idea of them was ridiculous. Like the two of you didn't begin where they ended. “You seriously gonna be hung up on that?”

“Don't,” you warn, shaking your head.

You reached for an exam room door, where a sixteen year old boy was complaining of migraines but Robby grabbed your wrist and stirred you away.

“You wanna argue, not here,” he said.

“I don't want to argue.”

Robby led you out to the ambulance bay. Any nurses stealing a couple minutes of peace quickly diverted back in and even ambulances seemed to divert away. He let go of you, standing away and folding his arms over his chest, defensive. “So come on, tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“You're mad because I was talking to Noelle- about a case, might I add,” he said. There was nothing soft in his tone, nothing that calmed your nerves on edge. He said it all like it was a joke that he already knew the punchline to.

You rubbed at your temple. “You can talk to Noelle about cases, of course you can-”

“- Oh, thank you, glad I have your permission,” he chuckled.

“Can you just not be a dick about this, for once!” you snapped.

Robby's brows rose to his head, almost shocked at your snap at him. He held out his hands. “Okay, I'm not being a dick.”

“You are, and it's like sometimes you don't even realise.”

His hands were worn with the mornings patients and you could see the stress he tried to hide away as he wiped up and down his face.

You took a deep breath. “Robby, if you don't want this to work out all you have to do is say.” You said it, un-sure if you even meant it. Un-sure that you could ever go back to who you were before meeting Robby, let alone sharing in his life. In the small moments grabbing take out together and eating it on his sofa. In the mornings where you both naturally woke up early enough to just admire each other before you had to get to work.

Robby chuckled dryly, hands on his hips. “Oh my god, all of this because I spoke to another woman?”

“Because you laughed with her like you haven't with me for weeks!” you argued.

For once, Robby was silent.

You told yourself after the seven week mark that it would be any day now, that he'd tell you you were better off friends; colleagues. Every day and week it didn't come, every month he got more comfortable in your bed you figured you'd easily get rid of him in your life as easily as you welcomed him.

Now you stood across from him in the early morning light of the ambulance bay knowing if he left you now you'd never get back on your feet again.

“I see the way Noelle looks at you, how the others from upstairs do to,” you begin.

Robby shook his head, something earnest in his gaze. “They're not- they don't-”

“- I know, I know,” you said, cutting him off with a grimace of a smile. “ ”I know you don't love them, Robby. I'm just not sure you love me either.”

As un-cultured as you were with your own relationships you weren't sure when the right time to say I love you was. You knew Santos had said it to Garcia drunk one night and woke up with regret pinning her to the bed. You knew Dana and Benji had said it to each other a week in. You knew you loved Robby before you even kissed him.

Robby looked down to his boots, shaking his head. “That's not fair.”

Your heart pinched. “I know I love you, Robby. But I can't watch all these woman over you and-and wonder.”

“Your insecurities are not my fault!” Robby snapped.

You knew he didn't mean it, or hoped he didn't. You knew in the very small arguments you'd had that he spoke without thinking and came grovelling back.

Maybe it was worse this time because you knew it was the truth. You knew these women- his ex something's- didn't get to see Robby in the early mornings and be the last thing he spoke to at night. You knew Robby wasn't inviting them into his self, but he wasn't pushing them away either.

They'd all been quick, snaps of bands on wrists. You were supposed to be something more.

Maybe you weren't.

Biting on the inside of your cheek, you felt the familiar burning in your chest, rising up to your neck.

“Okay.” You held yourself tight, heading past him and to the doors that were already welcoming you back.

Robby was hot on your heels, quicker even as he pushed himself ahead of you. “No, no, no- hey- wait, no I-I didn't mean that.” His eyes were wide, hands held out in front of you, not quite clasped together, pointing to the sky but pleading none the less.

“We shouldn't talk about this now, Robby-”

“- I- we... honey, please.”

He stood in between you and the doors. Beyond him you saw the chaos of the room, the charts being passed, the labs being reported. The world still turned.

Robby's hands fell to your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arms. “Let me- jus' let me-let me-”

“Hey! You two!”

Robby didn't jump apart from you, he squeezed your arms tighter as the two of you looked back to Dana who rushed out, wisps of grey hair falling around her. “What is it?”

“There's been a crash down the docks, all hands on deck!”

You thought you knew chaos, having seen all sorts of terror and oddities in the Pitt but the scenes at the dock were nothing like it. A complication with a boat, an explosion- small enough- rattled ferries and had them crashing into one another like terrible scene of dominoes.

Heck, you weren't even sure if the docks were safe to be standing on.

There were fire trucks and ambulances that didn't just respond to PTMC but Presby too. Police were corning off the area, talking to any witnesses but everyone blurred in one as you weaved in and out of them.

You'd been sent as an emergency respondent thanks to how level-headed and sturdy you were in the Pittfest. You still remembered how Robby nominated you as well as Whitaker to go with some from surgery, his eyes dark on you, a trusting nod passed before you were handed a jacket and pushed into an ambulance.

You'd already pulled a sheet over three bodies, one of them too small for your liking.

“Any for me?” asked a first emergency responder, you think his name was Spencer, catching it in the rig you caught a ride in. “We can take two.”

“Yeah!” you yelled and led him away. “This guy, approximately in his thirties, head lack to the right, needs to go to surgery immediately. This woman, late twenties, lost consciousness, possible pelvic bleed but she's stabilised, need's a ultrasound.”

“Got it!”

You'd gone through almost all the gloves you had in your pockets. There was blood seeping into your scrub uniform at your knees. You'd forgone your coat to a little girl who took an ambulance back with her mother, trembling from the cold.

A steady, firm hand settled between your shoulder blades.

“How you holding on, Slugger?”

Your heart soared in relief when you recognised Jack's voice, felt his steady hand and saw his easy smile in the middle of all the pain.

“Jack, thank god. Are you here with your team?” you asked, eying the uniform he was in.

“Yeah, we came to secure the area, doing everything I can to help,” he said, the two of you nudging your way through the people, stepping over the rubble and pools of water or blood. “How you holding up?”

“Lost three,” you told him.

Jack looked down at you, the weight of his gaze always heavy. “And how many you saved, huh? Focus on that number.”

The wind picked up, sending a chill over your bones.

“Hey, where's your jacket?” asked Jack, a frown taking over his features.

You chuckled. “Probably half way to Presby by now, think we've handed off all the traumas PTMC can take.”

Jack tutted and shook his head aside. “I reckon they've got one more in them.”

You didn't know how you and Jack had got so close, somewhere along the lines of hand-offs and covering night shifts you just always gravitated toward each other, working well and saving lives. Every daring procedure you'd taken was with him over your shoulder only for him to go and boast about you to Robby later.

Jack led you to Robby, for that you always had to be thankful.

“Hey! I've got a guy seizing over here!”

With your case in hand the two of you rushed off.

The man seemed middle-aged with no obvious wound to him as you and Jack took either side. The man was at the edge of the docks, the crashing of the waves fighting against you as you worked to stablilse him.

Jack steadied him. “Check if there's any medication on him! It might be a disorder!”

You checked, coming up empty pocketed. You fumbled in your bag and tried your pockets before finding the vial and clean needle. “Pushing diazepam!”

With five cc's in his seizing slowed to dull twitches.

“We need a back board and neck brace,” said Jack, looking around to try and flag down anyone.

Nobody was catching your eyes. This close to the water you were out of the way of most of the chaos.

“Go!” you told Jack. “I'll stay with him, make sure he doesn't sieze again.”

Jack's brows pinched together for a second. “You sure?”

You nodded. Your hands remained on your patient, feeling his tremors and already timing his pulse with your watch. “I've got it, go!”

In hind sight you should have thought about the implications. You'd been grabbed and yelled at and spat at in the ED by less sever patients but once you'd been attacked by a man who just woke up from a seizure, dazed and confused and naming you his enemy.

Robby had never been so close to murder.

It took weeks for the bruises to go down, for your hand to heal properly from the fall and you were on bed rest for a week.

You knew what it meant to be alone with a patient, but sometimes you supposed it couldn't be helped.

The diazepam should have helped- you've seen it help- but soon enough the man started twitching, slow at first, before it started to fit and his whole body moved.

He was a strong man. You weren't.

“It's okay, sir- sir!” you threw your weight against him to hold him still, wonder what you can do to stop him biting down on his tongue with the little equipment you had.

The man was mumbling to himself, thrashing violently.

“C'mon Jack, c'mon-”

It only took a wide sweep of the mans arm to send you hurtling back and crashing into the icy water.

The sky was darkening by the time Robby counted off his thirtieth patient of the day. Twenty-five of them had been from the incident at the docks. Only one he couldn't save, two sent up to the OR.

He counted the patients, counted the hours that ticked by, counted every ambulance that came by not carrying you. He'd expected you back by now, expected to have a little piece of mind with seeing you back in his eyeline.

Robby's heart was being squeezed progressively as the day went on, ever since he'd snapped and said words he never even meant.

Every second, passing from patient to patient and tearing off gloves to replace them with clean ones he checked his phone for any update from you.

Nothing.

You must have been busy down there.

But just three ambulances ago Whitaker returned saying he lost sight of you practically immediately.

So where the hell were you?

“Hey, Dana-” he called, rounding on the nurses station.

She looked as dishevelled as he felt, wisps of hair, dark circles under her eyes.

“Can you get a hold of transport, ask where the hell is my resident.”

“I just got off the phone with them, Robby-” she reached over and placed a hand on his, the one that had been tapping relentlessly. “She's on her way in now.”

Before Robby could even wonder why Dana had to hold his hand to tell him, why her eyes were glassed over and her voice trembled to tell him the doors bust open.

“Robby!” Jack yelled out.

He turned, catching sight of his old friend, the greying hair damp and sticking to his skin. He was half dressed in SWAT gear, his jacket discarded and bits of tinfoil falling from his shoulders. Jack was set over a gurney, hammering down on a chest and going in for CPR the old fashioned way.

“What happened? You fall in-”

Robby got to the other side of the gurney and breath caught in his chest.

“She's been down thirty- thirty-five minutes, I dunno, man,” said Jack as he continued hammering down on your chest.

It was you. Blue in the face and eyes closed, droplets of water at your lashes. Your hair was turning to ice fanned out underneath you. He'd been running his hand through your hair just that morning, had he not. There was a blanket, maybe two, thrown over you but your body only reacted to the thumping Jack delivered on your chest, pinching your nose to breath down your open mouth.

This morning you'd been warm, so warm, with a leg thrown over his hips in attempts to keep him in your bed. And he'd been close, so close to burying himself in your warmth.

He didn't even have to touch you to know you were cold.

“I found her- in the water- pulled her out-” gasped Jack as he continued compressions.

“What do you mean in the water?” asked Robby, surprising himself by how calm he sounded.

“She- she fell, or-or something, I dunno man-”

“You don't know?” he snapped. “Why isn't she bagged?”

“We ran out,” said the paramedic pushing you in.

“You ran out?!”

“Robby- Robby!” Dana's hands were on his chest, keeping him at bay before Robby even knew what he was going to do.

Robby shook her off. “What's open?”

“Trauma two just got cleaned up-”

He grabbed the gurney and pushed you into the room. The weight of Jack on top of you trying to save your life squeaking the wheels against the floor not long wiped from blood. Robby was aware of other voices, of people wondering if that was Jack and was it... no... it couldn't have been.

The doors closed behind a team of people all teaming in, stuttering when they saw you.

“Hook her up!” ordered Robby, ignoring any protocol of gowns and gloves. If he was going to get you back he was going to feel the beat of your heart under his palms. “Jack, move!”

Jack slowly climbed down and Robby jumped up next, quickly taking over compressions.

He remembered kissing down your chest, hiding himself there on mornings he wanted to steal away five minutes, pulling the covers up past the two of you. How he was breaking ribs to keep you alive. “Somebody get a bag on her, now!”

“She's- she's been down a long time,” said Jack, catching his breath.

Robby thumped down on your chest, kidding himself with the dull flutter of your eyelashes, knowing it was only through the force of his hammering down on you. “She's alive.”

“Jesus, Jack, you're as cold as ice,” said Dana from somewhere behind Robby.

“I'm fine,” he dismissed. “Robby, you shouldn't be working on her, brother.”

Others in the room stopped, hearing that.

It was protocol family waited outside, that if family or friends ever came in demanding help the same DNA did not attend. They were too emotionally clouded. To invested to think straight. The last time Robby found himself in this situation: blood pumping in his ears, chest tight was trying to save Jake's girlfriends life.

He'd failed.

The only person to pull him back from that was you.

There'd be nobody if you didn't pull through. He'd be left in that pedes room, never to leave.

“Robby!” Jack tried again.

“Shut up and get me some warm saline!”

“Oh, no,” said Jack, walking around till he was on the other side of your gurney. “No, I'm not going anywhere.”

Robby was still pressing his hands down on your chest when Jack reached over, past the bag they'd finally clamped over on you, and stroked back your hair.

“We're gonna get you through this,” he uttered in an oddly tender moment.

“We need to get a central line in her,” said Matteo.

Jack looked at Robby. “Brother.”

“No.”

“You have to move, we need to get a line in her.”

Robby knew that. He knew so much as a doctor, as chief attending. But he couldn't stop, he physically couldn't bring himself to.

“Robby, man, you gotta let go.”

“I can't... I can't... I can't...” he said. The only thing keeping him sane was the one, two, three, four count in his head, was the cold feeling of your flesh under his hands. “Push three milligrams of epi.”

Jack huffed in frustration, probably the only thing keeping him warm. He marched around your bed to his side. “Robby, so help me god I will drag you out of here if you don't let her go!”

“I can't!” he yelled.

It was selfish but Robby had some how convinced himself he could be selfish with you. He could hold on tighter in the mornings and let you go for the rest of the day. He could watch patients get close to you because he knew it was him who got to kiss you. He could hold back the worst parts of himself to keep you, no matter how much it tore him apart to push you away on the days he wanted to be closest.

No, Robby could never let you go.

If you ever tried to leave him, he'd hold on tighter.

Robby dropped his voice low. “I can't.”

Jack took in a slow breath, a gentle hand on Robby's bicep. “Okay. Okay. You don't have to let her go... but to save her you have to move aside.”

A monitor somewhere in the room beeped.

Slowly, Robby moved from your chest.

The people swarmed you. Someone cut into you, getting a central line in on your other side.

Robby stayed where he was, a hand holding yours tightly as if he could squeeze his own life into yours. He cried- maybe loudly- at the feel of how cold you were.

“What's her temp?” asked Jack.

“Eighty.”

Robby looked up to the monitor reading your vitals. “That's- that's too low.”

“We're getting her warmed up.”

“Get the warm saline.”

“We are.”

Robby leaned over you once the line was placed, brushing back your hair and trying desperately to ignore how cold you were. “You're not dead, you're not,” he said, low for you. Your vitals may have been saying different. “You're not dead.”

“Doctor Robby-”

“Please,” he begged with trembling lips. “Please, don't do this to me.”

A monitor sung low and dry. The classic song of a flatline.

His head jerked up.

Jack caught his stupor and pushed him from you, sending him into Dana's ready hold. “She's going into V-fib!”

Dana held Robby. Physically she wasn't strong enough to hold him back but Robby wasn't strong enough to fight against her. “Robby... Robby, c'mon, let's wait outside.”

He was shaking his head.

“Panels, charge to three hundred!” called out Jack.

Dana had just managed to push him out the doors as he shouted clear!

Through the glass Robby watched your body jerk but not respond.

“Please, please, please,” he uttered. His back hit the nurses station, his knees giving out as he slowly slid and sank to the floor.

“Okay, okay,” muttered Dana, falling with him and holding him there.

The Pitt seemed to stand still at the sight of their boss, white faced and hands trembling, brushing back his hair. Noise travelled quick, that it was you in the bed, ribs breaking from compressions, chest hurting from the shock.

Robby's hands clasped in front of him, his star of David chain clenched in his hands. “Please.... she can't do this to me, please.”

Dana tugged on his body, bringing him in closer. With her sharp gaze she pushed everyone else that dared try and get closer away. “C'mon, Robby, she's strong, you know that. And stubborn like hell, huh?”

Robby nodded along with her words, un-sure if he could believe it.

“Charge again, three hundred, let's go!” called Jack, rubbing the panels before everyone backed up. “Clear!”

There was a small beep, a pick up in the line.

“There! Resume compressions!”

“Doctor Robby!” Santos ran up, her gown like a cape around her. She slowed to a stop in front of the two slumped. “Dana. Dana, is it- is it true, is it?”

Robby looked up, tear stained cheeks red.

“Yeah, kid,” said Dana, sadly.

Santo's jaw trembled before she shook her head in resolute, saying one simple word. No. Then she stormed into the room.

Robby knew you favoured Santos and somewhere along the way Robby had come to look for her when an interesting case came in. He came to favour the way you smiled at Santos when she did things right and Robby searched for any smile he could get from you.

So, he pushed himself up on shaky legs and followed her in- back into the chaos that was your room. The blankets had slipped from your body in the shocks and he desperately tried to hold himself back from fixing them.

“Doctor Abbot-” said a nurse or a intern or someone in the room. “It's been thirty minutes.”

“Hold compressions.”

Robby knew it was to check your pulse but he winced when they paused, when your body didn't respond.

“Still asystole, resume compressions.” Jack caught Robby's gaze.

He'd seen that look on Jack's face. Had seen the hopelessness and the devastation at losing a patient not only in his face but in his own reflection. “Don't-”

Jack lowered his head. “Robby.”

“No, Jack, her temp is not up! She's cold,” he said, walking back around the room. He rolled his shoulders back, pulling on gloves. If nobody else was going to save you he would. “She is not dead! She's not- She's not dead till she's warm and dead! Push another round of epi!”

Matteo jumped at the chance.

Jack stood by Robby's side. “Just... prepare yourself, okay? She's been down a long time. She might not come back from this.”

Robby glanced back at him. “She will.”

“And even if she did-”

Robby cut him off. “She will.”

They couldn't send you up to the OR- there was nothing surgical to do. They couldn't send you to the ICU- you weren't stable. They could work on you for hours, in the pitts of hell.

Robby didn't stop Jesse from compressions but he leant over you, leaning his lips into your forehead. “You'll come back, you have to come back.”

“What's her temp?”

“We're up to eighty-eight.”

“When was our last epi?”

“Ten minutes ago.”

“Push again.”

At some point Santos pushed her through the crowd, taking compressions from Jesse who she deemed weak-armed.

“Doctor Santos-” said Jack, the only one seeing this for what it was. A disaster. One more emotional person in the room wasn't going to help. If you woke you might just choke on tears from them all.

“I can do it,” she argued, nodding to the night attending. “I can do it.”

Santos was as stubborn as you. If anyone might have been able to beat her heart into beating, it would be her.

Robby leant over you. Robby could feel your skin cold against his lips and he pet back any bit of you he could reach, trying to warm you. He caught Jack's tired gaze, his lifeless stare like he was already grieving you. “I never told her I love her, Jack.”

“Get an APG,” said Santos.

Jack clasped his shoulder. “Tell her now.”

Robby looked back down to you, past the bag pushing your breath, through Santos keeping your heart beat. He kissed your forehead. “I-” he chocked on the words. He couldn't remember a time where he'd said it and meant it like he does now.

He knew Jack was giving him a way out. He knew Jack was giving him the chance to live with no regrets.

But Robby would regret not dying with you if you didn't make it.

There was a silence throughout the room, not even the beating of a monitor keeping him sane.

Robby's hot tears hit your cheeks.

“Temp?”

“Up to neinty.”

“Halt compressions.”

Santos paused.

Nothing.

Then a shrill beeping.

If Robby thought it was life he was going to be souly mistaken.

“She's in V-fib again!”

Robby backed away, tucking his head down to his chest as he watched Jack get the panels, rub the gel on.

“Charge to three hundred- clear!”

Your body jolted again, blankets slipping down your bare body and Robby suddenly wanted to cover you, wanted to pull every tube keeping you alive out and just hold you. Warm or cold. He just wanted to hold you.

“Again, charge. Clear!”

There was a silence. Maybe you were so angry at him you were proving a point by dying. You were a good swimmer. Why didn't you swim?

Everyone in the room paused, seeming to wait for someone to call it.

Jack looked at Robby.

“No,” he said, pushing past everyone.

“Robby-” interjected Jack.

He snatched the panels from Jack. “Charge again, three hundred-”

“-Robby-”

“I said charge again!”

The room was heavy as Jesse moved to do so, charging them up.

“Clear!”

Your body jerked again, violent. Your face remained peaceful, Santos remained off to the side, waiting for orders, waiting to know. Everyone else was looking to each other, silently deciding who would be the one to drag Robby away from your body.

“Wait- there!”

In the middle of them all there sat a pick up in your heart.

The room jumped into discussion about how to carry on, about how to keep the momentum going while Robby pressed his stethoscope into his ears and the other down on you. He listened, catching the beat of your heart.

“She's warm, she's warm and she's alive,” said Jack with a smile.

You were dreaming. It was a sweet sort of thing.

It was a warm body blanketing you and hands holding you. It was lips you knew pressing along you and drawing out pleasure. There were three tiny words spoken into flesh.

It was Robby, his head laid upon your chest in your bed and mumbling the words, tracing every letter over your ribs. When you reached for his hair, when you tried to say the words again you coughed up water instead. You clawed at your throat. You chocked in panic-

Then there was a beeping bringing you out of sweet dreams.

“Hey, hey. Honey? Honey, can you look at me?” a warm hand was running over your head, pushing back your hair. “Open your eyes.”

You tried to. They felt heavy. Sleep heavy.

But someone was coaxing you through it, holding your hand and brushing back your hair.

“Yeah, there we go... there we go, hey.”

The lights were bright, almost painfully so as they blared in your eyes. It took you a couple blinks to get them right but when you did there was a dark shadow looming over you, blocking out the lights.

There was the ragged pull of a beard and the slope of a well known nose.

You breathed in and smelt burnt coffee and hand sanitiser. “Robby?”

He smiled, crows feet at his eyes. “Hey, honey.”

You pushed up your arm, finding it oddly weak like it had been weighted down. You found an IV down in your arm. The white lights... the white walls and the IV all made slow sense.

“Wh-what?”

“Easy, easy.” Robby grabbed at your arms, holding you. He helped you sit up, reaching over and plumping your pillow and holding you there.

Only when you heard the monitor calming down and felt the pain lessen did Robby let you go, perching close on the bed next to you and grabbing your hand again.

“What happened?” you asked, finding your throat parched.

Robby sighed, pulling your hand into your lap. “There was an accident at the docks. You went with the responders to help. Your patient had a seizure and...”

You remembered the dock, the wind cold and the yells. You remembered Jack was there and the patient, he was seizing. “What happened to him?” you asked.

Robby stared at you, a small shake in his head as his brows pinched together.

“The seizing, the patient.”

There was a small look of disbelief, a soft smile creasing his chapped lips.

“What?”

His smile turned sharp with affection as he looked down. Your hand, engulfed in his, was pressed to his lips. He stayed like that as the scenes played in his head and the smile slowly started to fall. “You were brought in, your body temp was eighty. Jack was- was doing compressions. We- we had to shock you, so much, you don't- ” Robby sighed out a shaky breath. “You don't know what it was like.”

The dock, the bodies, Jack. The bite of cold water like a thousand daggers piercing into your skin. You had gasped for breath, limbs flailing.

It had felt like dying.

“Oh.”

You rubbed at your chest, pain blooming.

“You might be a bit burnt, from the shocks. And we were- we did compressions for a while so you broke a rib,” he said, chocking down a cry.

You squeezed his hand. “We?”

He nodded, chin tucked into his chest. His lips were pursed.

You'd seen Robby cry before, in shades of red face and clenched palms and always trying to hide it away. But you'd never seen him try to hide away as much as he was now. Your hand escaped his hold, caressing down his cheek.

“Robby.... hey....”

His lips puckered to your palm, pressing a kiss there. His palm was large as he held your hand up to his cheek.

“Hey,” you cooed.

Robby glanced up at you. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.”

“No, no it's not, it's not okay,” Robby took a shaky breath and scooted closer. His arm came over you, bracing himself on the bed. “You almost died.”

You searched his eyes but only found pain and defeat. He looked tired. Really tired. “But I didn't.”

“That's not the point,” he said. He brushed back strands of your hair, kept petting it down in a way you guessed comforted him more. “Jack was doing compressions for almost an hour. Your temp was down the whole time. We shocked you four times. Four.”

Robby's voice broke.

“You almost died and the last thing we did was argue.”

You didn't know what to say to that. The words I'm sorry were already rising and like he sensed it, Robby gave a small shake of his head. “Yeah... probably wasn't the best timing.”

“We're never arguing again, you understand?”

You smirked, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. You could feel the race of his pulse. “Give us a week.”

“No,” said Robby. “Never.”

Something sour tasted it your mouth.

“Because we- are we, broken up?”

“No. No. We are not,” he said sternly.

You let out a breath. “Good. Good. I'd have hated to wake up from near death to that.”

“I should have listened to you,” he uttered. “Noelle is nothing, everyone else is nothing, nobody means anything to me, only you. Only ever you. And I am never letting you go again, ever.” He kissed your hand again.

You smiled at him. “What if I need to pee?”

“You can hold my hand.”

“And on mornings where I have really bad morning breath?” you teased.

“That doesn't happen, you know that,” Robby smiled.

Without any arguments left you gave up, sinking into your sheets with a shiver.

Robby frowned. “Are you cold?” he was up at once, pulling at the covers over you and the blankets. He was all but tucking you in as you laid there, taking it.

“Robby.”

“Yeah?” he hummed.

You tugged at his arm, pulling him down.

“What are you- what are you doing?” he chuckled, lightly.

“I'm cold, you're a human furnace, hold me.”

Robby was on the verge of complaining even as you pulled him down on the bed. He grunted at the squeak of the bed, was careful of the monitors assessing you. He squeezed in, pulling the rail back up as you curled up to the side to give him space. “These beds are not made for two.”

“You'll have to get onto the attending about that,” you teased, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, first thing tomorrow.”

“Meh, I can persuade him, if you like.”

Robby smirked. “He'll do whatever you say.”

His arm slung over your shoulder and rested there, holding your body into him till your head was on his chest and you could feel the beat of his heart. It was just like you dream. Of comfort and warmth.

Robby said your name in a whisper.

You looked up at him to see his eyes screwed shut before releasing them.

“I...”

You watched the move of his lips. “Robby, you don't have to-”

“No, I want to,” he said. Robby's hand was careful as he cupped your face.

“You don't have to say it just because of what happened.”

“I'm not, believe me, I'm not,” he said. “I love you.”

It was the words you wanted to hear, the words you needed to know, the very thing to finish off your dream.

“Robby-” you interjected.

“I love you,” he smiled, grinning wide at you. “I've said it now, I don't think you'll get me to shut up.” There was fake remorse in his voice, a feigned sort of sorry.

“I can think of a few ways.”

Robby's lips were warm and giving as you puckered your up to his, kissing him slow. If you lost your breath kissing him it'd be a hell of a way to go.

Robby smiled against your lips. “That might work.”

His body half rolled onto yours, the bed creaking in protest. Only when your monitor warned of you losing breath did he pull away and check the machine.

“Get some rest, Robby, you look like you need it,” you said, kissing his cheek slow.

There was fight of protest in him that quickly gave up.

Robby looked up at you, wide eyed. “Can I stay?”

You nodded.

“I love you.”

The words he'd given you, the words he'd never forget to say. The words he'd spoken and would never take back.

Though you could have very well done without all the drama that had led to it happening in the first place, you wouldn’t change anything that happened all weekend.

Between the Sprint, Quali and Race, Saturday and Sunday had been filled with holding hands, nothing new there, stolen kisses behind tyre stacks, very much very new, and a lovely dinner your best friend boyfriend? Had somehow managed to arrange in such a short time that you suspected P to be behind it all.

And from there on it was one thing after the other. From a win for Charles who you were required to celebrate with as your boss, to Maranello first thing Monday morning for race debrief in which you had zero use to anyone, to somehow ending up spending time with Kimi who needed a little comfort after his disastrous race ending.

How that last one had come to happen you were still not quite sure but you weren’t going to complain after he paid for your lunch on Wednesday before you went to the airport and home to Monaco.

Lando had been there since Monday evening, race debrief being done far faster then the one Ferrari had held and thus being home 2 days before you.

2 days of missing him so much you were sure it had been 2 years, at least that’s what it felt like.

It wasn’t that you had never missed him before when you hadn’t joined Ferrari yet and had your fixed job in Monaco but somehow that too had changed since your confession.

The aircraft touched down in Nice, a weight you hadn’t felt until then falling off your shoulders and feeling more at easy when you got into the back of Charles car after Alexandra had insisted that they would drive you home since you were basically neighbors either way. That arrangement had been established after your first race weekend on the job in canada.

Bit dreamy you sat in the back, not noticing how Charles kept a slightly worried eye on you through the rearview mirror, watching you look out the window with a dopey smile that left him wondering if the summer heat had now finally gotten to your head.

You were so in your headyou hadn’t even noticed him leaning over to Alexandra to whisper, “You think she’s okay? She’s been like this all weekend. It’s getting a bit scary, no…”

His wife chuckled with a glance back.

“I think whatever’s got her like this, just has her really happy.”

She wouldn’t dare tell Charles that she had seen you and Lando more than a bit cozy after Quali, at least not until you felt comfortable enough to tell him yourself.

Even married to your boss, she knew that it wasn’t her secret to tell.

“If you say so, but if this goes into Spa—”

“It most definitely will and you will say nothing.”

The Monegasque huffed playfully at her tone just as he pulled up in front of your building.

As if someone had pressed a button somewhere, you snapped out of trance and looked up.

“Oh, are we here already?” you asked a bit dazed and reached to unbuckle yourself before getting out of the car. You grabbed your suitcase from the trunk and went to say bye.

“Tell Lando hi from me!” Alexandra said with a wink that left you frozen with wide eyes before the car was off.

For a few more seconds you stood on the side walk, stunned and frozen in place until your brain had caught up again before shaking your head and heading inside to get out of the heat.

The elevator took its sweet time coming down from the 11th floor, opening its door just as you got more antsy to fall into Lando’s embrace waiting up on your floor. You were already later then planned, the 1and a half hour delay of the plane having messed with your planes quite a bit and if the influx of texts from Lando was any indication then he was just as unamused by it as you were.

The doors opened on your floor, prompting you to practically speed down the hall to the right apartment, keys almost landing on the floor as you rummaged through your purse to find them in the first place. They jingled once, door unlocking with a click.

A long breath left you, one that released every bit of tension left behind by the last few days and the suitcase pushed to the side to be forgotten until you found the will to do laundry.

The door had barely fell shut behind you before hurried footsteps echoed through the apartment and a second later Lando was there in your space.

Gigantic hands cupping your cheek as his lips pressed hard against yours, already moving ever so gently. Not even a piece of paper would have fit between you with the way he had caged you against the wooden surface of the apartment door.

“You took too long,” he sighed against your mouth, unwilling to part as he went in for another kiss that was far more demanding.

His words had you huff a soft laugh into the kiss, fingers twirling a stray strand of hair at the back of his neck

“Lan, its been 2 days.”

He quickly shook his head making the messy curls on his head bounce for a moment, face buried in the crock of your neck and stealing your breath as his mouth focused on the skin there.

“To long now that I get to have you properly!”

Heat rushed to your face, warming your face and skin all over.

“You’ve always had me!” you breathed out, head falling back against wood, enjoying what he was doing to you so easily.

“Not like this!” Lando argued without coming up or stopping at all.

“God you’re so needy”

Shameless as he was Lando looked up and gave you a devilish grin that simply screamed mischief.

“For you? Fuck yes.”

He didn’t even pretend to be embarrassed. No, it just made him grin bigger as his right hand traveled lower to settle on your waist. His hold wasn’t rough but it wasn’t gentle either. Instead it was like he wasn’t risking you getting away for even a second if he could prevent it in any way.

Good for him that you weren’t trying to get away. Your knees threatened to give out under you, growing weak once you felt his mouth back on yours, tongue desperate to be let in.

Lando, eager as a puppy slipped his hand under your shirt, finger splayed out on your skin as the top rode up.

Your lips parted, letting out an involuntary moan at his ministrations and when his leg somehow found its way between yours and pressed up against you, your breath hitched.

Quickly you hit his chest to get him to back off a little. The look of utter confusion and desperation almost made you laugh out loud.

“What?”

“You know…” you snorted. “As much as I want you, I really don’t want you to fuck me against our front door.”

The reaction was immediate. Instead of letting up however, his hands found your ass, smacking encouraging against it with a smirk. “Jump.”

You didn’t let him tell you twice and you jumped, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you up with ease. The bulge in his sweats pressed deliciously into your thigh a friction you couldn’t help but grind against as much as you could in your position.

Lando hissed under his breath, nearly stumbling with you in his arms as he quickly caught himself and shouldered the door to the bedroom open.

With a loud oof, you landed on the bed.

Raised eyebrow, hands pushing yourself upright on the mattress you smirked cheekily.

“Elegant as ever Mr. Norris.”

Lando rolled his eyes at the teasing. “Ever thought that you might just be heavy?”

The joke was evident in the glint in his eyes and the tone of his voice and so you didn’t react in any way, choosing to laugh instead of getting revenge.

You burst into laughter, shaking your head as you reached out to catch the front of his T-shirt to tug it over his head, revealing his chest when he threw it somewhere behind him before climbing onto the bed to join you. He settled quickly between your legs again and making quick work with your own shirt which landed similar to his somewhere behind him.

The moment it was gone his focus fell to your chest. The black bra lined with some delicate red-ish flowers that you had picked this morning doing more for him then probably appropriate.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” he hummed against your throat, getting on top of you and kissing lower along the line of the lace covering your nipples.

“And you talk to much!”

With that you quickly got to work. Your jeans got shrugged off, hands reaching for his sweatpants so you were both in equal states of undress.

Lando caught your wrists before you could finish tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he leaned down.

“So impatient too,” he murmured, amusement dancing in his eyes, though the way he looked at you made your heart race all the same. You reached up to brush an unruly curl away from his face, unable to stop smiling when he immediately leaned into your touch.

“Missed you,” he admitted quietly this time, the teasing slipping away just enough for the words to sound painfully honest. You answered by stealing another lingering kiss, slow and unhurried and surprised him by flipping him on his back.

“Missed you too.” You whispered against his lips.

Caught off guard by landing on his back the brit could only stare as you sat up, reached back to unclasp the hook behind your back and the fabric fell away entirely. He almost drooled at the sight of you.

“You done starring yet?” you quipped and ground down against his dick still straining against his boxers. It was cruel, that you knew and yet you didn’t care. Instead you kept doing it again and again, leaving him a bit breathless as he twitched eager against your pussy.

“You done running that mouth of yours?” Lando groaned at the feeling. He sat up, you still in his lap and his mouth all of a sudden wrapped around your right nipple, tongue lapping at the bud insistently and the already there wet patch in your slip growing bigger.

“Oh–“ you moaned loudly and clenched around nothing.

“Seems like it, hm… my love all helpless from just this? Wonder what you sound like riding me then…” The words were sweet, almost like honey and they fired up the urged to actually get his dick out and inside off you.

Lando could see what it was doing to you and quickly go rid of the last of your clothing.

His cock sprang free, making your mouth water.

As if he had read your mind he shook his head. “Not now, just let me feel you,” he said cupping you jaw and brushing his thumb over your little pout.

Retaliating you quickly wrapped your lips around the digit, tongue lapping at it for a second meant to tease.

“No, dont play dirty love. Not when you’re already dripping on my thigh…”

“Then hurry up and get a condom before I start taking care of it myself!” you bit out impatient as ever, making him grin wolfishly.

“You sure? We could—”

You quickly cut him off with a look. “Baby, unless you want a little mini you in nine months, you should get that condom… at least until I can get back on the pill.”

That shut him up and scrambling to the nightstand fast. Not that he didn’t want kids but he didn’t want them now.

Lando returned a moment later, the foil packet pinched between his fingers, though the smug grin on his face hadn’t faded in the slightest.

“Happy now?” he asked, climbing back onto the bed, only for you to steal it from his hand.

“I am,” you smiled, reaching up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over the pink tint that lingered across his cheeks.

You ripped the package open, taking the rubber out and slipped it on. Lando nearly went insane leaning against the beds headboard once he felt your warm hand gently wrap around him, rolling the condom on with ease. It also sent a little spark of jealousy through him. The ease with which you did so, no matter the mischievous grin you gave him as you looked up through your lashes, reminded him that you knew what you were doing. That he was not the only man or woman to have you this close.

Before you could see it though, he took your hand his. Pulling until you were settle on top of him again.

You reached down, lining him up and sank down slowly.

The feeling was overwhelming, the sheer size of him nearly making you fall forward as you whimpered at the stretch. It was a noise of pleasure, one that Lando never wanted anyone else to hear again but him. He moaned low.

Finally feeling you on him, around him and with him as he had imagined for months now whenever he had gotten off by himself or met with some to take his mind off of you.

The little noise you made as he was fully sheeted inside you high and whiny and music to his ears.

Your thighs shook, your eyes met his and you began to roll your hips with his giant hands settled on your waist to help find a rhythm that escalated soon after into something frantic and fast.

“Fuck!” Lando growled out, the sound getting to your head and turning you on even more. “Feels so good my love.”

Letting your head tip forward against his shoulders, your hips stuttered. “L– Lan…”

“That’s right, just keep moving for me. Doing so good for me,”

The praise went straight to your head making you clench tight around him.

“oh, Ohh you like being good for me?” The question was rhetorically and not meant to be answered. Neither did he let you, rolling to the side and you under him to start building a rhythm of his own when he felt your growing tired on top of him.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, the pace he started drilling into you unmatched. His cock dragged deliciously against your wet walls, over your g-spot. It was so much you weren’t sure how you were going to survive this.

Orgasm building quick and still a bit to out of reach you whined helplessly. Lando seemed to notice your dilemma, being just as close as you were, reaching and rubbing your clit with pressure that had you come just from that.

Lando followed right behind, the fluttering of your walls triggering his own release.

Heavy breathing filled the room, hearts racing and only slowly calming down as your bodies stayed entangled for some time longer until he rolled off.

He slipped out, leaving you empty and spent to catch your breath while he pulled off the condom, trying not to make that big off a mess as he tied it up before crawling in beside you again.

Lando’s fingers traced absentminded patterns along your back as you rested against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. Every now and then he pressed a soft kiss into your hair.

You felt him smile against your hair, his arms tightening around you slightly. For a moment it was just the two of you, the world outside the apartment forgotten. No races, no pressure, no cameras, no expectations. Just Lando and you.

“I can go.” You say, standing up and grabbing your phone off the island counter.

“Just give me ten minutes baby, I’ll come with you.” Will says, stirring something a bit faster than before.

“I can go to the store by myself.” You joke, but Will is still stirring fast.

“I’ll go with her.” Mack says standing up and heading over to his shoes.

“Keep cooking, we’ll be right back.” You say, kissing Will’s cheek and putting your shoes on.

Will watches as you grab your keys off the hook, and you wink at him as you and Mack leave the house, the cool November air of San Jose hitting you both as you get into the car, and make your way to the store.

—

“Now what is that!” You exclaim with a laugh, as you notice Macklin throwing another random item into the basket.

“Since when do you control me?” He asks in a teasing manner.

“Since you left your wallet at home.” You say with a dead pan stare.

“Yeah, okay that’s fair.” He says with his usual gummy smile. But you see his eyes catch on something behind you. And you turn to see the cooler packed full of Red Bull.

“Go on then!” You say, and Macklin smiles gratefully. “Meet me at the front!” You call as you both split up in two different directions.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

“Not nearly enough!” You say back, laughing as you make your way up to the front. You’re excited to get back to the house, the smell of whatever Colleen was cooking is calling your name.

But before you could make it to the registers, something strange catches your eye. A man is walking around, hood up and skiddish. Suddenly, you regret not sticking with Macklin.

And at that moment too many things happen all at once. Mack rounds the corner, about two aisles separating you guys from each other. Then the man starts yelling, and before you know it shots are fired into the air as people scream and hit the ground.

You and Mack both duck, and the man screams for everyone to get down. You look around, a woman with her child tucked tightly to her, an elderly couple shaking on the floor, random men and women all scattered around the checkouts. And then your eyes flash back to Macklin, “don’t move” Mack mouths to you. And you nod your head so slightly, like you are too afraid to move it half an inch.

Then, the silence was broken.

WILL SMITH, your phone announces into the store. His contact picture pops up, and your eyes go to it as it’s on the floor near you. But you’re too paralyzed to make a move to stop it, because the man has already heard it. His sights already set on you.

“Who the hell was that?” The man asks, approaching where you’re kneeling on the ground. You get a good look at him as he does. He’s frantic, his hand shaking as it holds the gun. His eyes look wired, and then, as they flick to Macklin, they light with recognition.

“Holy shit.” The man says, and you feel the blood drain from you. He recognizes Mack, recognizes the name that called your phone. “You’re that kid.” He says, waving the gun around in hopeless abandon, but his words seem.. angry.

“Hey, man, it’s okay. Nobody’s doing anything.” Mack says as he raises both hands slowly.

“You’re that fucking hockey kid! You know I bet against you, you made me lose a lot of fucking money!”

“Mack.” You whimper before you can stop yourself, and that makes the man’s gaze snap to you.

“Don’t look at her. Look at me.” Mack’s voice goes sharper.

“You want me to spare her?” The man asks, and Macklin says yes instantly. “Then give me your fucking wallet, kid.”

“I don’t have it with me.” Mack says, and you can see how hard he’s forcing himself to remain steady.

“Bullshit.” The man calls, his gun aimed directly at Macklin.

“I don’t.” Mack’s hands stay up, but his eyes keep flicking to you. “I left it behind, I swear.”

“What about you?” The man demands. “You’re with him, you’ve got money.” And you watch as the gun swings toward you and your entire body locks.

“Okay, okay.” You say, your voice shaking as you slowly reach for your pocket. Mack moves half an inch, so little that you almost miss it, but the man doesn’t.

“Don’t!” The man screams, and it causes Mack to freeze.

“Okay!” Mack says, voice trembling now. “Okay. Just… just don’t point that at her.”

Your fingers fumble, and you stare at the weapon still pointed at you. And for a moment, your life flashes before your eyes. You see Will on the ice, in the kitchen on a lazy morning, you see Mack next to you at the kitchen island while he sneaks chocolate chips away from his best friend. You see the blonde shine of Grace’s hair, and feel how she’s always loved you from the second you guys met.

And then, you see movement behind the man. And your eyes widen as two men go to tackle the robber down. It all moves so fast, fast enough to make the gun jerk, fast enough that pain registers before the deafening shot rings out through the grocery store.

Then Mack screams your name, and there’s so much pain in his voice that you focus on that. For a second, your not really sure how you got onto your back, or why Mack leans above you, why he’s screaming, why his hands are pressing against you.

“No, no, no, no!” He’s pleading, voice breaking. “Stay with me. Stay with me. Look at me. Hey, look at me.”

And you try, try to focus but his face swims above you. He looks pale, and younger than you’ve ever seen him.

“Mack?” You breathe out with a question, but the pain rips through you then. And you cry on the floor of the grocery store.

“I’m here.” His says as his hands press harder against your abdomen. “I’m right here. You’re okay, I’m not leaving you, you’re going to be okay.” His voice is cracking, tears dropping down from his eyes and landing around you.

“I want Will.” You croak out, and Macklin nods. Nods but doesn’t take his eyes away from you as you can hear the sirens approaching.

“I’m going to call him, I’m going to call him as soon as they get you stabilized okay? You’ll see him very soon, I promise.” Mack says, and despite his tears, despite the pain, despite the tunnel vision starting in your eyes, you believe Mack. Because Mack wouldn’t lie to you, so you nod in agreement.

“I love him.” You whisper to Mack, but you don’t hear his reply as your eyes start to shut.

“No, no, Y/N!” Mack says, one of his bloody hands coming up to cup your face. “You’ve got to stay awake, stay awake for Will, please.” He begs you, but your eyes shut completely, and as you go limp in his arms, Macklin screams.

—

Colleen wipes her hands on the towel as Will’s phone misses another call.

“Will.” She says to her son, who is just finishing up on his portion of the meal. “You missed another call.” She says, and he starts washing his hands, but then her phone rings.

She pulls it from her back pocket, the unknown number displayed across the screen. But for some reason she feels the need to answer it.

“Hello?” She asks, and the person on the other end of the line makes her heart stop.

“Is this Colleen Smith?”

“Yes this is.” She says, and the eyes of her husband, son and daughter fly to her.

“I’m calling from the San Jose Medical Hospital-“ The voice says, and Colleen gasps as the nurse relays the information to her.

Robbery. Gunshot. Surgery.

Her eyes fill with tears as Will and Grace are begging her for some information.

“We need to go now.” Colleen says quickly to her family, still remaining on the phone as the nurse continues to fill her in.

“Mom what’s going on?” Will asks her, and she bites back a cry as she responds.

“There was a robbery at the store. Honey… Y/N’s in surgery.”

Will’s lips part, and for half a second he just stares. Then his knees buckle, but his dad catches him under the arms before he fully drops.

“No.” Will gasps. “No. Mom, no.”

“Get your shoes on, let’s go.” She says, and the Smith family rushes towards the door.

“Macklin!” Will exclaims. “Macklin was with her.”

“Was there a boy with her? Macklin Celebrini?” Colleen asks, and when she tells him that Mack is unharmed, Will squeezes his eyes shut, a sound coming out of him that is half relief and half agony.

But he doesn’t dwell on much else as his family rushes towards the hospital. As Will rushes to you.

—

The ER is just as horrible as Will thinks. The smell crawls through his senses, the lights seem too bright, and as he runs towards the direction that the front desk attendant told him, he sees his best friend.

Macklin Celebrini sits in a chair in a small private waiting room, a shirt on his body that is definitely not his, but it’s his hands that cause Will to choke.

Mack’s hands are shaking so violently, and Will stares at the red staining them. It’s in his nail beds, in the cracks of his skin. Like he tried to scrub it, but it wouldn’t all come off.

And like Mack could sense that he was no longer alone, he looks up. And his face crumples the second he sees Will.

Will crosses the room in three strides, and for one second, Mack flinches like he expects Will to smack him. Instead, Will grabs his best friend and pulls him into his arms.

Will and Mack completely break and the feeling of the other.

“I’m sorry.” Macklin sobs into Will. “I’m so sorry, Will. I was right there. I was right there and I couldn’t-“

Will grips the back of his shirt so tightly his knuckles go white.

“It’s not your fault Macklin, it’s not your fault.” He sobs, so relieved that his best friend is okay, but so terrified at the same time. His family is still behind them both, the three crying silently and trying to give the pair a moment.

“It should have been me.” Mack says, his voice so crackling and wet.

“Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that.” Will says, pulling him in tighter if that’s even possible.

“I should have protected her.”

“Look at me.” Will says, pulling back a bit to look in the red bloodshot eyes of Mack. “I need you, Macklin. I need you to tell me what happened, and I need you to not fall apart on me because if you fall apart, I’m gonna fall apart.” Will says, like they both aren’t already falling apart. “Do it for her.” Will whispers, and Mack nods quickly, wiping at his face with the heel of his hand, leaving a faint red smear against his cheek.

Will sees it, and his stomach turns. Blood. Your blood.

They all sit down as Mack tells them exactly what happened, exactly how he split up to grab Red Bull because he knows Will loves them.

It cracks his heart in two, and as he listens to Macklin, Will looks toward the double doors.

Surgery. You’re in surgery. Somewhere in this hospital you’re cold, alone, and in pain. And Will can’t breathe.

A nurse comes to update them after what feels like hours, when Will sees her he shoots up so fast he knocks the chair back. The loud scrape causing Macklin to jump.

“She’s still in surgery.” The nurse relays. “But she’s tough, she’s a real fighter.”

“Yeah.” Will says, new tears falling. “Yeah she is.”

He listens as the nurse gives them more information, but he can’t get himself to rip his eyes away from Mack’s hands. Colleen managed to grab some wipes from the nurses desk, and she’s been carefully working on cleaning your dried blood from them.

“I need air.” Will finally says, standing and walking towards the doors.

“Will-“ Grace says, but their father grabs her arm softly, probably whispering something about letting him go.

He makes it out the automatic doors, moving towards the side of the hospital that is not facing the parking lot. He closes his eyes for one moment before he hurls over, puking in the bushes.

His stomach rolls, his throat burning as he thinks he’s done only to realize he’s not. But when he’s sure now that his stomach is completely empty he spits a few times, too scared and too tired to be embarrassed by it.

He walks towards a bench, biting his lip to stop the tears from leaving his eyes as he tilts his head back. The San Jose sky is clear tonight, the stars shining brightly down on him. And he almost laughs at the irony of it. How many times have you laid in the backyard staring at the stars? How many times have you pointed to them, telling Will which constellation is which? And yet here they are, shining bright, but you aren’t here to see them.

Will initially wants to scream at them, almost begging for clouds instead. But then he pictures your face, how happy you are when you’re able to lay under them. So he cries, he looks up and sobs.

“Please.” He begs, and he doesn’t feel any ounce of embarrassment for begging the stars. “Please don’t take her from me.” He says, voice cracking. He keeps staring up, like maybe they’ll answer him, like they can promise him that you’ll be okay. “She’s everything to me, please.” He whispers, putting his head in his hands and sobbing.

He doesn’t notice someone coming towards him until they are almost next to him, and without looking he can tell it’s Macklin. He sits down on the bench, and Will turns into him, holding tightly onto the fabric of the shirt the hospital must have given him.

“I can’t lose her Macklin.” He sobs. “I can’t I can’t I can’t.”

“You’re not going to.” Mack says, voice shaking but firm at the same time. “She’s stubborn as hell. She’s gonna wake up and be pissed about them cutting your sweatshirt off of her.”

Will snorts, nodding his head. And he and Mack stay on that bench for a long time.

—

The doctor comes to the waiting room at 1:17am. Will knows that because he’s been staring at the clock, watching the minutes tick by for a few hours since him and Mack came back inside.

Everyone stands up, anxiously waiting as the doctor confirms what Will has been hoping to hear.

“She made it through the surgery.” The man says, and Colleen sobs, covering her mouth, Grace cries into their father, and Will and Mack both grip the arms of their chairs, processing the words.

“She lost a lot of blood, but she’s stable. You guys have a real fighter, you should all be proud.” He says with a smile, and Will runs his hands through his hair in relief.

“Can we see her?” He asks, not realizing when he moved towards the doctor a few steps.

“Yes, but we need calm and quiet in the room.”

“Of course.” Colleen says, and everyone swallows their fears and emotions as they walk into the room.

Will stops in the doorway as he sees you, wires and tubes hooked up to you in various places, but all he can look at is the rise and fall of your chest. Like seeing that is finally what he needed to tell himself that you’re alive.

He rushes to your side, the nurse kindly stepping out of his way. He sits down in the chair positioned right next to your bed, and he so gently, so carefully grabs your hand.

“I’m here, baby.” He whispers, eyes so glossy that his vision shakes. “I’m with you. And you’re okay, you made it.” He kisses your knuckles softly, your skin cool to the touch. “You’re so strong, you’re the strongest person I know.”

Someone behind Will whimpers, but he doesn’t care enough to turn around and see who. All he’s focused on is you, and for the next few hours, he doesn’t dare tear his gaze away from your body. He refuses water, a sweatshirt, food. Will Smith barely breathes until your fingers twitch in his, and he sees your eyes slowly open.

—

To say you have no clue what happened is an understatement. But as your eyes adjust to the dimmed hospital lights the memories come flooding back.

The grocery store. The man. The gun. Macklin. The urge to see Will one last time.

Voices sound to your right, but they sound muffled. Like you’re underwater. But there’s that familiar feeling, that feeling of home. And as you look to your right, you understand why.

Will sits there, eyes wide as his mouth moves. And then finally you can hear it.

“Hey, hey. Don’t move baby. You’re safe, I’m here.” He keeps uttering like a broken record.

A few nurses come in, and Mack has to pull Will back while they adjust the machines around you. But he stays locked in on your eyes, and they find his, glossy and wide, and you make an attempt to reach for him.

One of the nurses steps aside, softly reminding Will to be careful, but letting him reach for you back.

His hand takes yours, his other going to your face and resting on your cheek.

“Will?” You ask, and Will has never heard a more perfect voice in all of this life.

“I’m here. I’m right here with you.” He says, and you cry with him.

“I love you.” You say, because that’s the first thing you want him to know. The most important thing to get off of your chest.

Will laughs, sniffling as he plants the softest kiss to your lips.

“I love you more, beautiful girl.” He says.