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Chapter Text

Kimi will never understand who cursed him and why, but this race is looking like it's going to be another one to toss in the 'best not to talk about' pile. Carmen is watching both her boys from the garage, George high up in the points and Kimi hardly even close. He's going to be upset if this doesn’t change, his rookie season has not been easy on him and he still has yet to resign with the team that would put his mind at ease. She is a little ticked with Toto, both Kimi and George haven't signed new contracts yet and they are still in second in the constructors so what he's waiting for she will never know.
Speaking of, she looks over to the team principal who is watching the race with a stony expression. He is hard to read especially with such split results. She wants to smack him, hard, but she breathes instead.

"Come on Kimi." She whispers to herself.

"Bono, what am I doing?" Kimis voice crackles over the radio.

"Just drive, you're three seconds off from the car in front, two point three to the car behind. Head down, keep going." Bono instructs.

He seems to know there isn't much that can be salvaged in such a short amount of laps so just holding position is the best they can do.

"Ok." Kimi says quietly.

Carmen's heart breaks, he needs a break, another podium or something, anything good. They don't hear more from him, not until the checkered flag is waved, George in P4, and Kimi pulling up P13. Kimi pulls in and parks, taking his helmet off, handing it off to someone in Mercedes kit, he doesn't care who and heads over to the media pen, avoiding George.

"Hey Ollie." Kimi mutters as his friend slides up next to him.

"Hey, good race." Ollie smiles.

P14 for him, not great but unfortunately average for him.

"I guess." Kimi sighs.

Ollie smiles sympathetically at him, knowing this is not what he wanted but he was trying to lighten the mood. Being a rookie is hard, it's just especially hard when you're in a top team with a one year contract.

"Kimi!" George calls, jogging after the pair.

Kimi looks over his shoulder then turns back. He's going to drop if he's with George, he knows that for a fact and he can't let that happen.

"Sweetheart look at me." George catches him.

Kimi turns around, trying to hold his tears.

"Hey, I'm sorry honey. Things will get better, I promise." George says softly.

"George, I... I can't right now. Can we talk later or something?" Kimi says, looking at the ground.

"Yeah, yeah sure. Sorry I didn't mean to..." George trails off, looking for words.

"It's fine, I'll just — I'll see you later." Kimi says, backing away to join Ollie again.

George sighs and kicks at pebbles on the ground. George knows he's been upset and stressed recently, with the end of the season approaching and no new contract yet. He feels the same so he understands but Kimi has been so much more stressed.
George watches both rookies go then he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"You alright?" Lando asks.

"Yeah, just worried about Kimi." George sighs.

"He's upset?" Lando guesses.

"Yeah but he doesn't want me to help him right now." George says.

Lando makes a sympathetic sound, gently pushing George along into the media pen.
Kimi glances at him as he talks to a reporter, a mostly blank expression. He's trying not to let the tears he's holding back fall, George can tell, he knows that look. But Kimi made it very clear, he's not ready to talk so George crosses with Lando to the other side of the pen, meeting his handler and talking to a reporter.

—

"Kimi, so sorry about the race again today." The new reporter starts.

He's getting pretty tired of hearing how sorry people are, he doesn't need anyone's pity.

"Kimi?" She asks, tilting her head behind the camera.

"Sorry, what did you say?" He asks, snapping back to reality.

"Do you think with recent results the team will be considering a different direction in terms of their driver line up?" She asks.

Kimi pauses, mouth somewhat a gap because he's honestly not sure how to respond to that, or if he even heard it right.

"I'm — I'm sorry?" He ask his voice getting high pitched.

"Do you think the team will take a new direction?" She asks again.

Ok, yeah so he did hear her right. Great, how the fuck is he supposed to answer that? He looks across to George, wishing he could run and hide in the man's chest, not answer this question, not have to worry about contract negotiation or let his team down anymore. And now he's crying, small tears falling from his eyes.

"Kimi?" The reporter asks again.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't think I should answer that." Kimi says, trying to sound like an adult.

"Are you sure, I'm sure you could try." She says.

Kimi is convinced now that this is just her being cruel, that smile no longer feels like something he's reading into, it looks mean. His headspace creeps up on him, and he wants his mama to hold him, or his dada to give him a bottle. He wants to be rocked in a rocking chair or fall asleep between the both of them.

"Sorry, Kimi will not be answering that. Please ask something else or we will move on." His media manager intervenes. 

She can see how close he is to tears, and regressing. The team knows now, of course they do, and they are great about keeping him and his classification safe.
The reporter rolls her eyes and scoffs.

"It's not that hard of a question." She says, covering her closest microphone.

"Ok, great, thank you for your time. Kimi, you're free to leave." His manager dismisses him.

He turns and stares at her with watery eyes. She breaks inside but keeps her professionalism.
With a hand on the small of Kimis back, she leads him out while he fights back the tears. On the way she nods to Georges manager, a silent communication then leaves.

"It's going to be ok, we'll go find Carmen. You're not in trouble, that reporter was being rude." She comforts.

Kimi nods, sucking in a very unsteady breath.
Carmen had been watching the live feed with Bono of the media pen, saw the shift as that reporter got mean and excused herself to meet them outside. Kimi looks up and more tears fall from his eyes. He quickly rushes forward and she pulls him inside then picks him.

"Mama!" Kimi cries, grabbing tight to her shirt.

His body shakes with sobs, holding on tight to Carmen as she rocks him. Some people in the common areas watch as Carmen tries to comfort him and she would love to flip all of them off, tell them to mind their business, but she supposes this is in fact the common area.

"Is he alright?" Toto asks cautiously, approaching hastily.

"No, he's stressed because it was a hard race and you refuse to give him a new contract yet." Carmen quips.

He deserves it, she is not his biggest fan at the moment. By the look on his face he knows it.

"'M sorry!" Kimi cries. "Trying so hard, jus' not working!"

It doesn't sound quite right, a little slurred with his headspace and thickened accent.

"I know angel, you're doing your best." Carmen comforts first, shooting a steely glare at Toto.

"Please!" It sounds hoarse. "Please 'm trying!"

"I know you are." Toto says.

"Jus' wanna drive, please!" Kimi sobs.

Carmen is trying not to cry herself, switching from rocking to swaying. Just as Toto opens his mouth to say something, George bursts in, just being let off of his media duties to come help deal with the situation. 

"Dada!" Kimi wails.

"Oh sweetheart." George sighs, taking Kimi into his arms.

The littles hands find their way under George's shirt and he calms just a little.

"Please, please, please. Jus' wanna drive, please tell 'em." Kimi pleads.

George clings to Kimi a little tighter and looks up to his boss. He looks like a deer in headlight.

"It's ok, sweetheart, you can drive, there is still time." George says, still staring head on at Toto.

"Please." Kimi whimpers.

"It will be alright, you will be just fine." George whispers.

"Do something good." Carmen whispers to Toto, bite to her words.

He nods at her, a little intimidated.

"Come on darling, we should get him changed and go home." She then says to George.

He nods and they head upstairs, Kimi still silently crying on his shoulder, but calming with the feeling of his warm skin under his hands.

"You're a good driver, sweetheart, we're so proud of you." George whispers, placing soft kisses next to Kimis ear.

Kimi exhales shakily, tears falling and soaking into the fabric of George's shirt.

Carmen lets them in to Kimis room, grabbing his diaper bag and pulling out a change of clothes.

"I'm just going to set you down so you can change. We're not leaving you." George explains.

Kimi whimpers, trying not to let go as George sets him down.

"Hey baby, look at me. Can you do that love, look at mama." Carmen calls softly for him.

Kimi looks up to her, hiccuping and reaching up to rub his eyes.

"Such a good boy. You are so good love, and we are going to be fast now. But remember, you are going to be ok, and you will keep driving, I just know it." Carmen says.

She slips Kimis pacifier into his mouth, the one with his initials and number on it as it is his favourite. He hiccups again, Carmen wipes his tears away, then she gets him out of his sweaty race suit.

"I'm going to go change super quick." George says.

"Ok, we'll be here." Carmen says.

George nods and steps out of the room to change and pack up.
Carmen gets Kimi diapered, putting him in soft sweats, one of George's hoodies going over his head, an extra comfort.

"Good boy, mama loved you so much." She coos, lifting Kimi back to her chest.

"Love mama." Kimi mumbles past his pacifier.

"You're a good driver." She adds.

Kimi cries softly, shoving his head in her shoulder.  She coos softly, playing with his curls, soothing him best she can while they are still on track.

"Ready to go?" George asks when he comes back in.

"Yeah, let's get out of here." Carmen agrees.

George holds the door for them letting Carmen step into the hall with Kimi in her arms. He shuts the door behind them and guides them discreetly to the car.

—

George unlocks the door to their hotel room, letting himself and Carmen in, Kimi is almost asleep in her arms. Carmen had to sit in the backseat with Kimi, he started to cry again whenever she tried to let go of his hand. He hasn't truly stopped yet, silent tears making his cheeks rosy pink. Carmen continues to wipe them away with her thumb, cooing softly to him, trying desperately to make him feel better.

"Alright, let's get you in pjs and a bottle, then I think it should be bedtime." George suggests.

"Please." Kimi rasps, his throat hoarse from crying.

"Aww baby, everything will work out." Carmen sighs softly. "I'll get him dressed." She adds.

"I'll meet you with a bottle." George says.

She nods, kissing George quickly and taking Kimi over to their bed. That's where he's going to end up sleeping tonight anyway. She gets Fiffi for him, slotting the giraffe in Kimis arms then getting a legless onesie.
Kimi lets her move him around, holding tight to Fiffi until he's all dressed.

"Ok, go see dada for your bottle." Carmen coos.

"Hi sweetheart." George coos, pulling Kimis pacifier out and replacing it with the bottle.

Kimi holds on for half of the bottle before falling asleep curled up in George's arms, tears streaking his face.

Chapter Text

The Alpine is arguably harder to drive than the Williams ever was. At least with the Williams they would actually tweak the car where he told them he thinks it needed, Alpine doesn't even really listen to Pierre. And Flavio freaks him out, maybe not so much when he's in his big headspace and somewhat confident but he could never ever be little around the man. Lando also isn't comfortable with Franco around Flavio, says he doesn't trust the man and he has good reason not too.
He, much like Max's father, has never been quiet about his opinion on littles, especially littles in sport. Why he payed Williams millions for Franco he isn't too sure, and also isn't sure why he made the swap if he's so damned convinced littles have no business in the garage at all, but he has to grind his teeth and deal with it.
Lando does his best to keep Franco out of his hospitality as much as he can, which isn't too hard because he likes go have his little down time between sessions anyway and Lando has set a firm no voluntary regressing at Alpine.
Sadly, involuntary regressions do exist and after this race, Franco was pushed over the edge.

—

Franco drags the shit-box that is the Alpine to P18, Pierre in front of him in an equally abysmal P16. Franco hates this car, he hates it, he hates it. The team won't even listen to him when he tells them what needs to be changed so that it will work better. 'We have the data' is the best he gets.  Pierre doesn't get the same cold stares from Flavio that he does, no, he's the senior driver, and has a big old 'Neutral' printed on his papers. He's frustrated as well but it's not as bad.
Franco practically shakes as he gets out of the car, trying to hide his pout that Lando is on the podium which means he doesn't have his safe person to run to so he can be protected from Flavio.
Is it him, is he the problem? Sure Pierre isn't fairing much better but it's still better. Maybe he's just not cut out to drive the Alpine, or at all.
An unsteady leg hits the ground and he nearly topples over if it were for Lewis behind him who manages to catch him first.

"Woah there, careful kiddo." Lewis says.

"Sorry." Franco squeaks out.

"Hey, are you alright?" Lewis asks.

Franco whimpers and Lewis reaches up to crack open the littles visor, met with tears brewing in his eyes.

"Whats the matter?" Lewis asks softly.

"Gonna yell at me." Franco says, his voice breaking from the force of holding back his tears.

"Your daddy wouldn't yell at you, love, especially not for race results." Lewis says.

Franco shakes his head, tamping down the urge to stomp his foot at the his hero not getting it.

"Not daddy, Flavi. He's gonna yell at me." Franco says, so scared for whats to come.

"Why would he yell at you?" Lewis asks.

"Results, gonna be mad. They no listen to me." Franco chocks.

"Ok, ok. Let's calm down a minute, then you can tell me what the hell goes on in your garage." Lewis says, guiding Franco away from everyone.

Franco takes deep breaths as he's lead into Lewis's garage and his helmet is pulled off. Lewis cleans his face up a bit, catching a couple tears.

"Want to tell me what's going on?" Lewis asks.

"F-Flavio says it's my fault I can't get points. He's probably right but the car is so hard to drive and they don't listen to me." Franco says, pulling himself back up.

"He shouldn't be yelling at you regardless of where you finish. Thats not fair to you. What does Lando say?" Lewis asks.

"He doesn't want me little over there. I know he doesn't like Flavio even though he tries to hide it. I just want to drive." Franco says.

Lewis hums, wiping his face again. "Take a breather then go over. If he starts yelling don't say anything and get out of there as fast as you can, ok?"

Franco nods, wiping his face as well. He breaths for a few minutes and Lewis stays in the absence of Lando, but plans to re-route the younger to his little as soon as possible.

"Ok." Franco nods.

"Yeah?" Lewis asks. "You can stay longer if you need."

"I'm ok, it will be fine." Franco says.

"Ok, good luck, and come back if you need, alright?" Lewis tells him.

Franco nods and gets up, leaving Lewis' garage for his own. He takes more deep breaths on the way back, calming his growing nerves and the howling of the terrified three year old begging him to be released. He's an adult, he can do this.

"Colapinto!" He gets called immediately.

Deep breaths, just as he has been doing.

"Get over here!" Flavio yells at him.

He likes to do this in blind spots in the garage so no evidence of his treatment towards littles can get out. Everyone around has also been trained to keep working like nothing is happening.

"That was one of your worst drives to date, so fucking congratulations!" Flavio yells at him.

"I'm sorry." It comes out like he's a robot.

"You damned should be sorry!" Flavio continues to yell. "Not a single overtake all race, are you kidding me?! Your qualifying result wasn't even as garbage as that!"

Franco shrinks back, finding it harder and harder to stay big.

"It's my fault, I know." Franco forces out.

He knows Lewis told him not to say anything, to let Flavio yell then get away, but he's so trained by now that he can't help it.

"It sure isn't their fault!" He gestured wildly to the crowd of mechanics.

Tears spring back to his eyes and Franco tries to blink them away as fast as he possibly can.

"I'll try harder next time, I swear." Franco says.

"You better so help you god. I can still cut you at any time and don't you ever forget that." Flavio gets in his face.

Franco nods, looking at the floor so the man can't see him crying.

"I control you, and I control if you drive or not." Flavio spits.

"Yes." Franco chokes out.

"Are you going to cry?!" He demands when he sees a tear drip.

"No." Franco says, trying to convince himself as well.

"I can't believe it, little baby is going to cry, how pathetic." Flavio snorts.

"I know this is my fault, and I'm sorry. Can I please go?" Franco asks.

"No, you're going to stand here and man up!" Flavio says.

Franco is trying not to let the fact that he's starting to feel shaky show while he also tries to collect himself. He's regressing, he can feel it but he can't dare let that be known.

"Can't believe I let a little drive my car. Ludicrous." Flavio mutters to himself.

"Hey!" Landos very angry voice cuts through the garage. "Do we have a problem?"

Flavio sizes Lando up and Franco holds back the relived sob bubbling in his throat.

"Not with you. Turn around and walk away." Flavio spits.

"Not if you plan to keep yelling at him, I won't." Lando growls.

"This is teaching accountability. Littles should never have been allowed in the sport." Flavio says, standing tall as Lando levels in height with him.

"Bullshit. This is you going on a power trip to make yourself feel better about not listening to your drivers. Littles are in this sport, have been in this sport and will continue to be in this sport so I suggest you fucking deal with it, and stop taking out your sad miserable life on him." Lando all but snarls.

Flavio measures him with a mean stare that Lando has no issue returning ten fold.

"Knowing him he's already apologized so that will be all." Lando says.

"Fine." Flavio mutters, walking away in a huff.

"Daddy?" Franco chokes out.

"Oh sunshine. I'm so sorry you had to deal with him." Lando coos, his anger melting away as soon as he turns around.

"Was my fa-ult." Franco hiccups.

"It was absolutely not, he shouldn't have been yelling at you." Lando says.

Franco tries not to cry while still in the garage so Lando scoops him up and takes him to McLaren where people are a lot nicer.
As soon as the door is shut on Landos driver room, Franco breaks, wailing into Landos shoulder.

"I know, sunshine, it's not fair." Lando coos.

He's so thankful Lewis grabbed him before he could get to far. He panicked when he heard that Franco was scared getting out of the car and still went to face his boss. He sprinted as fast as his legs would allow, making it just in time to catch the tail end of the scene.

"My fault daddy. I'm trying!" Franco cries.

"You're doing your best sunshine, thats what matters." Lando says.

Franco doesn't say anything else, crying and holding tightly to Lando. He's going to make this better, all of it, thats his job. Franco understands why daddy doesn't want him being little at Alpine now, even just halfway there was terrifying.
Landos phone dings and Franco flinches in fear, starting to shake.

"Hey hey, you're safe. It's just your uncle Lewis checking up on you." Lando says, quickly skimming the message.

Franco's breathing hitches, so deep in his fear it's bordering on panic.

"Baby, you need to breathe. Can you breathe with daddy?" Lando says, tossing his phone aside and sitting down.

He starts to take deep, exaggerated breaths, and Franco does his best to copy, his vision cloud with tears as he tries to calm down. Lando has a hand flat on his back, holding him to his chest to help him copy the rhythm.

"Good boy, you're such a good boy sunshine. You've got it, just keep breathing with me." Lando praises, continuing his exaggerated breaths.

Franco comes away from his near panic attack all his weight falling onto Landos chest.

"That's it, there we go." Lando praises.

"Daddy wanna go home." Franco whispers.

"Let's get you changed first." Lando says.

Franco nods and lets Lando sit him on the couch. He wants to be held but he's trying to be good so he doesn't complain, just breathes because that's what gets him praised.

"Ok, just relax, we'll be done soon." Lando instructs.

Franco sits back into the cushions of the couch and lets Lando take over, unzipping his suit and pulling it off with his fireproofs. He gets a pull-up put on, shorts following and his favourite hoodie stolen from Lando.

"Is that good, sunshine?" Lando asks.

"Yeah." Franco nods.

"Good, are you ok if I get changed very quickly as well?" Lando asks.

Franco nods again and Lando kisses his head softly. Before he gets up to change, Lando offers a pacifier which Franco takes without complaint. He doesn't often use one, a bit old to have much interest in them, but in times like this he appreciates having them. Lando kisses his again and gets up, grabbing shorts and a shirt and slipping into the bathroom. He moves as fast as he can, not bothering to fold his suit like normal, just shoving it in his bag and stepping back out to Franco.
The little has moved to rest on his side, tears still leaking from his eyes.

"Oh sunshine, let's get you home." Lando coos.

Franco lifts his arms up and Lando lifts him off the couch, taking him out to the car.

"When we get home, we'll watch a movie and have a cuddle, does that sound good?" Lando asks.

"Yeah, please." Franco agrees.

Lando smiles, Franco is always so polite and it melts his heart. He just wishes that other people could see and appreciate this side of the little, the side he loves with all his heart who never deserves to be hurt.

Chapter Text

Ollie is little miss social butterfly in the paddock as Esteban has taken to calling him, he loves people, and making new friends and chatting. Sometimes Charles and Carlos joke about getting him a leash for when he's little because he just loves to run off and talk to someone new. The problem is he doesn't always know how to be alone.
In F2 between practices there were always people to talk to, always someone to hang out with, a mechanic, Kimi, someone from another team, or Charles and Carlos. It was easier then, when they both drove for Ferrari, when they had the same schedule, and Ollie could be close by. Now with Carlos at Williams the scheduling is so hard to manage with all three teams. It takes its toll on Ollie when he can't wait for one meeting to be over than be coddled by his caregivers. He has to wait for Ferrari and Williams to be done, because they tend to be at the same time there about, but then Haas have their meetings which means he has to keep being big and if he's lucky by the time he's released he has maybe a half hour of time where he can go see Charles and Carlos and regress before he has to drive. It's exhausting, but at least he's found a friend in his teammate.
It was a worry honestly, he and Kimi were so close that Ollie wasn't sure he would be able to connect with whoever came next but they meshed well pretty instantly.
Unfortunately, Esite isn't always right there to be of company and when Ollie is teetering the rule is he isn't allowed to wander into the paddock alone. He can text someone to come get him but walking off is a big no no, especially after he got lost looking for someone to hang out with. Charles had a proper panic attack when they thought they lost him, thus the rule was made.

"Ollie? Did you hear me, nounours?" Esteban asks.

"Huh?" Ollie asks.

He zoned out, a telltale sign he's getting close to regressing. Esteban has gotten fairly good at seeing the signs, knows how to take basic care of Ollie and text Charles or Carlos when it gets too high above his pay grade.
He smiles sympathetically to his rookie teammate, knowing he's been teetering all day.

"I have to go for a few hours, are you ok until Carlos comes to get you?" Esteban repeats.

"Oh, umm, yeah. I guess so." Ollie says.

Honestly he doesn't want Esteban to go at all, but he can't be clingy, can't be that type of teammate. Esteban has told him that it's ok if he needs him sometimes when Charles and Carlos can't be with him right that second but he still feels bad asking. 

"You're sure? I can find a way to stay if you need me." The Frenchman says.

"No, no, I'm ok." Ollie gives a small smile.

Inside he wants to whine and plead, ask his teammate to stay, but he can't, so he won't.

"Ok, text your daddies when you need them, right?" Esteban double checks.

Ollie nods and watches his teammate leave. An involuntary whimper leaves him now that he's alone.

"No, I'm fine." Ollie says. "I'm a big boy." He mutters.

But is he though? It certainly doesn't feel like it right now, not while he's left alone. He checks his phone, just an old notification from Carlos that his meeting is starting but he will be by in an hour to get him unless Charles comes first. He doesn't bother responding, he knew he wouldn't get any further reply because Carlos is infuriatingly professional when he needs to be.
Ollie has been told he can be a clingy little, he's working on it but it's hard. When he's alone it feels like tortured isolation.
His parents always told him that needing love and being clingy isn't a bad thing, that someone will come along who will be willing to put up with it and not to be ashamed. They were right, Charles and Carlos don't mind that he's clingy, hell, they are clingy back, Charles especially, but this terrible feeling when he's alone needs to be worked on.

"Do something." Ollie mumbles to himself.

He's already starting to loose the battle to regression and Esteban has only been gone for three minutes. This is bad. How is he meant to last another hour?
He texts Charles, hoping maybe he's done.

'R u almost done, I'm alone' - Ollie.

He waits a minute, then two but the words at the bottom remain reading delivered. He whines again and trudges himself upstairs.

"Just want papa." He mumbles to himself.

He pulls his phone in and puts on a playlist that keeps him relaxed when little and big and leaves his phone on the massage table.

"I can be alone." He tells himself. "I'm a big boy."

It's his motto today, or at least right now. He has his music, he has a book on the coffee table though the jury is out on how long he'll be able to read, but he can try, and he's already eaten so thats not a concern.

"Gonna read. I can do that." Ollie hypes himself up and grabs his book.

It's a predictable murder mystery, one where you know who did it by the end of the first chapter but is well written enough you want to finish it. And he tries, he's only about 150 pages to the end but the longer he tries to harder it gets. Words stop processing, he's reading the same sentence over and over and catching less and less of it. His thoughts are starting to wander.
What was Esteban doing? Did he say while Ollie wasn't listening, lost in his own little world or did he not given a reason at all? Is he trying to get away from Ollie? Has he been too much today? Is that why neither of his caregivers are answering their phones either?!
Ollie starts to spiral and bit, he doesn't want to be so clingy that people stop wanting to be around him. This room is feeling more and more like a prison cell that he's locked himself in, isolating him from everyone else. And if he weren't such a damned good kid he would ignore that stupid no leaving into the paddock rule, but he's a good kid.

"Papa!" Ollie starts crying for him. "Please, don't wanna be alone."

He falls face first into the couch cushions and cries. People are avoiding him, thats the conclusion he's come up with. It's been roughly a year with Charles and Carlos, and they are done with him. He was just sick too, so was Charles and he turned the clingy up to eleven because he felt like dying. Maybe that was the breaking point. Oh how he wishes it's not true, that Charles is going to walk through the door now and scoop him up, hold him tight like he's so good at doing. Or for Carlos to come in and cuddle with him on the couch, read him a sorry because he's surprisingly good at doing different accents and voices.
Ollie is properly howling now, wanting someone, literally anyone to save him from this isolation torture.

—

Charles checks his phone, seeing the text from Ollie. He rolls his tongue over his teeth. Ollie doesn't usually text unless he needs someone badly. Maybe he can leave, or maybe Carlos is done. He sends a quick text to his boyfriend, asking if he's done yet.

'Not yet, we're running over' - Carlos.

So they are both just on their phones in meetings because this sucks and Charles is bored.

"Charles, are you listening?" Fred cuts through his thoughts, bringing his attention back.

"What— no sorry." Charles slumps in his chair.

Lewis leans over to him now.

"What's wrong?" He asks quietly.

"Ollie texted because he's alone, I think he's close to being little." Charles responds just as quietly.

"Fred I'm going to be sick!" Lewis immediately interjects.

"Quoi?" Fred asks, caught off guard.

"I'm going to be sick, we should end here before it's everyone's problem." Lewis says, winking at Charles.

They are quickly dismissed and Charles runs out. He sprints to Haas, no one batting an eye at him as he runs up to Ollie and opens his door.
It breaks his heart what he sees inside.

"Mon amour, what happened?" Charles asks.

"Daddy?!" Ollie cries.

"It's me, sweetie, I'm right here." Charles confirms.

"Daddy!" Ollie wails, throwing himself at the man.

"Oh mon ourson." Charles whispers. "Can you tell daddy what happened?"

"E-Estie left, an-an try to read, but hard. Started thinking 'bout you an' papa then got sad cause no one wanted to hang out with me! Avoiding me daddy!" Ollie cries.

"Oh sweetie. Ok, let's breathe a second, ok?" Charles decides to start there.

He knows how Ollie tends to get when he's alone too long, this is actually tame for him, had it been longer it probably would have been much worse. This feels like isolation for him and he hates it.
Charles takes a seat back where Ollie was just lying, holding him tight, chest to chest, and rocking him. It's grounding for him, soothes him every time. It was truly a life saver while they were sick. When Charles was well enough to stand he would join Carlos and Ollie in the bathroom and Carlos would always rock him after a round of throwing up and it made it not so scary. It's doing the same thing now.

"Alright, why didn't anyone want to hang out with you?" Charles asks.

"Was left alone!" Ollie exclaims.

"Sweetie, did you ask anyone else if they wanted to do something?" Charles asks.

Ollie just shakes his head, tangling his fists in Charles' shirt. The Monegasque can't help but kiss Ollie's forehead. He can get worked up pretty easily if you let him, and they definitely let him.
Just then, Carlos comes running in.

"Is everything alright?" Carlos asks, very concerned.

"We just got a bit in our own head." Charles says, brushing some hair out of Ollie's eyes.

The little hiccups, shoving his way back to Charles's chest.

"Aye, sweetie. Alone for too long?" Carlos guess.

Charles nods. Then he also checks his watch and discovers another contribution factor.

"I think we are also a little bit overtired." He adds.

"'M not tired." Ollie protests weakly.

"But you wouldn't object to a diaper and a cuddle, would you?" Carlos asks.

Ollie pauses, thinking for a second then shakes his head. The caregivers laugh softly.

"Didn't think so."

Carlos gets up and grabs the diaper bag, bringing it over and pulling out a fresh diaper and a pacifier along with Obbie. Charles scoots back with Ollie between his legs, mostly lying now and Carlos gets Ollie diapered. He's in comfortable shorts and shirt already so it's a quick process, then a blanket is pulled out. Charles rearranges yet again, the three fitting under the blanket. Ollie holds Carlos's hand, still in Charles lap and he starts to doze off. Then someone knocks.

"Who is it?" Charles calls softly.

"Esteban." The Frenchman replies.

"Come in!" It's Carlos who says it.

"Everything alright?" He asks.

He takes it the red and blotchy face of his teammate, the way he has a hold on both of his caregivers and guesses it's maybe not.

"He thought we were all avoiding him and got upset." Charles explains.

"Oh, pauvre chouette." Esteban coos.

Ollie looks up at him.

"Estie." He says softly around the pacifier.

"Hi love. I'm sorry we scared you by leaving." Esteban apologizes.

"Is 'kay." Ollie whispers.

He's fighting sleep so hard, trying to make sure they aren't going to leave him. But damn if Charles isn't so good at comforting him. He's asleep in no time, but no one ever leaves his side as long as they are needed.

Chapter Text

While Isack managed to avoid the flu that took out the entire group just before Kimis birthday, he is not lucky enough to escape being sick at all this year. Singapore is a hot one, the heat and humidity and intensity of the race sucks all of Isacks energy and strength completely. Max is doing fine, but he's an experienced driver. There is no way that Isack is the only one who wants to curl up and take a ten year nap, right? It just can't be. But as he looks around after the race, it looks like if he isn't the only one feeling like crap, he's the only one doing a terrible job at hiding it.
He goes to find Daniel, he'll make it all better. It's late anyway and he needs sleep.
Just as he's climbing the steps into hospitality, feeling like a man who has been crawling the desert in search of water, he gets scooped up. He's about to panic when a comforting and familiar voice cuts him off.

"Just me, cricket." It's Daniel.

Daniel found him and is carrying him inside. This is great, he doesn't have to hold his own head up, feeling exhausted so he just lets Daniel do all the heavy lifting and rests it on his shoulder. He's half asleep already and they still have a flight to catch.

"Just a little longer and we'll go find papa." Daniel says softly.

Isack nods and Daniel sets him on his feet. He sways, grabbing hold of the man's shirt to stay upright, swallowing a lump in his throat. Daniel frowns slightly at his little, scanning for anything that could be wrong and coming up with he's a bit hot and tired.

"Let's get you changed, cricket." Daniel says.

Isack nods again so Daniel unzips his suit and pulls it off, the cool air in the room stinging his hot skin. He shivers while Daniel has his back turned to grab him a change of clothes.

"Alright, one leg, then the other. Good job." Daniel instructs as he holds the pull-up open.

Isack steps his legs in and Daniel pulls it up, repeating the process with his shorts. A plain white tshirt finishes the look just in time for Max to step in.

"Are we ready to go?" Max asks.

"Yup, just need to put shoes on." Daniel says, nodding down at Isacks socked feet.

Max nods, stepping over and kissing Isack head while Daniel gets him in shoes.

"Now we are ready." He says.

"Great, let's get going."

—

It's a painfully long flight and Isack is starting to feel worse. It's no longer just heat, or being overtired from the late race, he's genuinely feeling sick. It doesn't go unnoticed by the caregivers, especially when Isack slumps into Max's side and refuses to move. He's sick, it's very clear. They just have to get him home so he can rest and recover.

"How much longer do we have?" Max asks quietly.

"An hour, I think." Daniel says, checking the time. "It's going to be three ish when we land."

"He's going for a nap." Max decides.

"No need it." Isack mumbles.

"Sure baby." Max says.

Isack whines, realizing this is a non negotiable. He knows Max is looking out for him and has his best interest in mind but he finds it hard when he just steps in and decides.
The rest of the flight passes quietly, Isack keeps his eyes forced open to prove he doesn't need a nap when they get back, but it doesn't prove the point he wants it to prove. And as Daniel said, it's just about three o'clock in the afternoon when they land.

"Alright cricket, up we go." Daniel says softly, lifting Isack up instead of letting him walk off the plane.

Isack whimpers as he's carried off the plane, Max following behind with their bags. Daniel buckles him into the backseat, helps Max get the bags in the trunk then slides in drivers seat to head home.
Isack is asleep by the time they arrive back home, unable to fight it.

"I'll get him." Max says quietly.

"Sounds like a plan." Daniel agrees, leaning over and kissing Max softly, then they gets out.

Isack whines when he's moved, and Max shushes him softly. They just need to get upstairs and Isack to bed.
Daniel is holding the door open for them and Max quickly heads in, taking the elevator up with Daniel and getting Isack into bed.

"Hope you feel better, schat." Max whispers.

—

Isack whines when he wakes up, feeling worse than when he fell asleep. He shifts and his eyes snap open.

"No, no, no." He mutters, kicking the covers off.

His sheets are soaked from where his pull-up leaked.

"Papa!" He sobs.

His head hurts, and crying is not help it, but he also can't help crying.

"Whats the matter scha— oh little one." Max coos.

He lifts Isack up out of his wet sheets, holding him close, not caring if he gets wet. Daniel pops his head in as well and frowns softly.

"Can you strip the bed please." Max requests.

"Of course." Daniel says, already moving to do it.

Max sets Isack down to get him changed, they don't have a table but they have a mat and bins with pull-ups. But since he leaked and is very clearly not feeling well, Max grabs a diaper instead. He's never put a diaper on Isack so this may not go well.

"Just bear with me baby." Max says, taking a deep breath.

Isack whimpers again, his clothes feel bad. Max feels bad watching Isack shiver as he wipes the little, making sure to get everything.

"Is cold papa." Isack whines.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm almost done." Max says.

Isack kicks his legs, he didn't want to nap, the wipes are cold and as he looks up Max has a diaper in his hand.

"No!" Isack exclaims. "No! No diaper!"

"Schat, I'm sorry, but you leaked through your pull-up, I just want you to be protected." Max explains as he gets Isack diapered regardless.

This is getting out of his control, he doesn't want to wear a diaper.

"Daddy! Off please!" Isack cries for Daniel.

"I'm sorry cricket." Daniel says softly.

He lifts Isack up anyway, holding him close while he cries. He tries to reach down to rip the garment off, but Daniel has his hands trapped. He wiggles, trying to push away from Daniel's chest, to get his hands free.
This isn't fair, he doesn't want to be babied. The stupid thing is so much thicker than his regular pull-ups and it feels weird.

"Can we interest you in a new shirt?" Daniel asks, noticing the bottom of his is wet.

Isack nods, not fighting anymore to get his diaper off, too tired. Max grabs a loose shirt with a car on it while Daniel pulls Isacks shirt off him. Max pulls the new shirt on and Isack slumps against Daniel, little cries leaving him.

"I know cricket, it will be ok." Daniel kisses Isacks head and takes him to the living room.

Max joins them, heading for the kitchen to find something to hopefully help Isack feel a bit better. Daniel gets Isack comfy on the couch, tucking a blanket and pillows around him. Isack whines and tries to fight him, needs them to stop making every decision right now.

"What do you want to watch bud?" Daniel asks.

Finally something he can decide.

"Mickey please." He says.

Daniel smiles at him and pulls up the show, continuing from where they stopped last time they watched the show on this account. You don't necessarily have to watch this show in order, it's just cute and fun.

"Alright, here schat, I've got your favourite soup. It should make you feel better." Max says.

Isack looks at the sippy cup and shakes his head, pushing it away.

"Don't want it." He mutters, tears coming back to his eyes.

"Not even a few sips? It's been a while since you had anything to eat." Max tries.

"No! Don't want it!" Isack cries, shoving Max's hand harder.

He does not like today, everything about it had been stupid.

"Ok, you don't have to have anything right now. We will wait, just let us know when you get hungry, ok?" Max requests.

"So stupid." Isack cries. "Never eating!"

"Ok. I don't know about never, but not right now." Max agrees.

Daniel has paused the show, watching how worked up Isack has gotten over the simple thought of eating. His demeanour is different than it usually is too, ignoring the not feeling well aspect. He looks like he's curled up smaller than normal, clutching his blanket closer to his chest, similar to the way a younger little would act.
Max looks up to the older while trying to comfort Isack, hoping for an insight or opinion.
Daniel approaches and crouches next to Isack who has started sobbing into his pillow.

"Hey cricket, can you look at me please?" Daniel asks softly.

Isack turns his head just enough to see Daniel through one tear filled eye.

"You're feeling a little overwhelmed, aren't you?" The Australian asks.

Isack nods and hiccups through tears. Max takes his hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the littles knuckles.

"Is it because you're not feeling well or is there more to it?" Daniel asks.

Something about the question makes Isack feel a touch better. He doesn't understand how it worked but he will take it.

"S-so different." Isack cries.

"Different how, schat?" Max asks.

"Don't nap late! Don't wear diapers, hate it! Don't have dinner on the couch!" Isack exclaims, getting worked up yet again.

"Oh. Schat, we're sorry, we should have talked to you more, shouldn't we?" Max coos.

Isack nods, his eyes still pooling with tears.

"Have more power here." He adds.

"We understand cricket." Daniel says. "And this week may not be the most fun for you, but unfortunately papa and I will have to take a bit more control because you're sick."

Isack whimpers, that was not the point, he wants his normal control back. Thats the thing Max has learned with him, a lot has to be his idea because there is something festering below the surface that he hasn't quite figured out yet.

"But schat, do you trust that even when daddy and I make decisions it's because it's whats best for you? We're not going to do anything that would hurt you, we just want you to be happy and healthy." Max says.

"But not listening to me." Isack says.

"I know, and we will try to more, but there are somethings daddies have to pull rank on. Whenever we can, we will make sure to ask you how you feel, ok?" Max says.

With a shaky breath, Isack nods. Max and Daniel smile.

"Would you like to continue your show?" Daniel asks.

"Please." Isack nods.

Daniel turns and hits play, the characters un freezing and the voices fill the room once more.

"How about a little something to eat, it doesn't have to be much." Max adds.

Isack thinks for a moment, he's not feeling super great but his belly is pretty empty.

"Fine." He agrees.

Max smiles softly to him and passes the sippy cup over to him.

"Thank you schat." Max says softly.

Isack holds tighter to Max's hand while taking a couple sips of his soup. It doesn't make him feel any worse, not much better either but not worse.

"Papa... umm, sit please?" Isack asks.

"Of course schat, where do you want me?" Max asks.

Isack lifts his head off his pillow and Max moves it, taking its spot and the roll of Isacks new pillow.

"Do you want daddy to sit too?" Max asks, noticing Daniel on the floor.

Isack nods, scrunching his legs up further to give room to Daniel. The Australian smiles and sits, getting Isacks legs in his lap once he's comfortable.
It's going to be an unpleasant week, but they will make it through with as much control to Isack as possible.

Chapter Text

Oscar has been afraid of spiders as long as he can remember, big or small he hates them. You would think having grown up in Australia he wouldn't mind them so much, but you would be wrong. As a kid he would go running to his parents when he saw one in tears, his mum would hold him to keep him safe while his dad trapped it and relocated it outside. Then for the rest of the day Oscar would be extra vigilant to make sure they are all gone.
He's even had nightmares about massive spiders coming to eat him and he refused to sleep in his bed for weeks after. Nicole of course let him crawl in every time to make him feel safe, promising she would kill the Oscar eating spiders before they got to him, but he still refused to be alone.
As he grew up, the phobia never went away, but in his adult mind set he's better at dealing with it. He will text someone to get rid of the creepy crawly while he stays safe at the other side of the room, very tense until it's gone.
Little Oscar isn't as good about it, just like when he was a kid he goes running to the closet caregiver in tears to deal with it, then refuses to leave their side for at least an hour. Mark was rather surprised when he found out about the phobia and made checking Oscar's room for spiders every night part of the routine. Oscar is still cautious to avoid them, double checking himself before the lights go out for the night while having his diaper changed.
Now they are in the last leg of summer break, less than a week to go and they are enjoying their final time in Monaco. Mark has been slowly puttering around to clean up before they have to leave for Zandvoort, wanting to leave the apartment somewhat tidy for when they return so it's not a pit of dread for him when they come back that he has to clean. Oscar has been playing in the living room all day, had his Lego's out this morning, his cars currently and his blocks are close by for when he's ready to make a race track later on. Mark can hear down the hall as the drier sings its little song that tells him it's done and he gets up.

"Oscar, I have to go move laundry around, are you ok here or would you like to come?" Mark asks, crouching in front of the little.

Oscar looks up at him with his big eyes, his pacifier stilling in his mouth as he thinks about his options. He doesn't want to be alone, hates being alone when he's little, but he's not really alone right? Daddy would be just down the hall doing laundry, thats not completely alone so he should be fine.

"I stay here, daddy." Oscar decides.

Mark smiles and kisses his head, making Oscar blush and look away.

"If you need anything I'll be right down the hall, ok? I shouldn't be too long." Mark says.

He's fully aware that Oscar doesn't like to be alone if he doesn't have to be, so he tries not to leave him alone often. He just doesn't want to pull Oscar away from his game if he doesn't want to go, which is why he always gives the choice.
Oscar nods at his words and he kisses the littles head again, then he stands and heads down to the laundry room.
Oscar watches Mark go and deflates when he's out of sight. Maybe he should have gone with him instead of staying and playing. He doesn't like Mark out of his sight for two long, a little too attached when he's little, or at least thats what he's scared of.

"I fine." Oscar mumbles to himself.

He grabs his blocks, dumping them out on the carpet, watching the blues and greens and reds and yellows and oranges scatter in front of him. He's going to build his race track and he's going to go have fun.
So he grabs the blocks, lining them up to make walls of a track that definitely isn't on the calendar. Then he takes the Lego garages he built earlier and lines them up where he thinks the pit lane should be and puts a couple cars in them.

"Perfect." He declares, showing himself what he accomplished. "Daddy would love."

He gets a little sad, but he can hear daddy just down the hall, signing quietly to himself probably to make the boring chore a little less boring. He's still around, Oscar isn't truly alone.

"Gonna win this race." He says, more confident now.

He grabs two cars, an old RedBull, the one Mark used to drive, and his own car, lining them up at the start line so they can race. He needs more hands, then he could have a proper mock race, make it a challenge for himself because winning against one car is light work for him.

"Oscar wins!" The little cheers regardless as he pushes his car to the finish like then brings Marks car behind.

He sits back with a satisfied smile, admiring his set up again and picking who he wants to race next. But as he's scanning the garages, his eyes freeze over one of the empty one. Sitting on the very well built roof is a massive spider, all of its eyes locked on Oscar. The little wants to scream, to go running for Mark to come kill it, or at least get rid of it, but it's like he's stuck where he is.

"Daddy." Oscar tries to call but he can hardly hear his own words. "Help."

Mark can't hear him from down the hall, has no idea whats going on in the living room currently, how petrified Oscar is feeling at the moment.

"Go 'way." He tries to tell the arachnid but it doesn't move.

They stare at each other, then the spider moves and Oscar tumbles backwards.

"Don't hurt me." Oscar begs in the same strangled whisper.

The spider crawls a little closer, resting on the edge of the garage that Oscar will never be touching again.
He can feel his diaper get wet from the fear and it makes him start to cry.

"Daddy?" Oscar tries again.

It's still hardly audible and he starts to shake. No one is going to come save him, this spider is going to eat him and no one will know until it's too late. Oscar tries to move so he can go get Mark but the spider drops from the garage to the floor, closer still.

"Please go 'way." Oscar whimpers.

He tries to move again and the spider follows, the damn thing has him trapped, he can't move if he doesn't want to be swallowed whole. His diaper gets a little wetter now. He hardly has space to back up, the wall is centimeters from his back.

"Daddy please." Oscar calls, a little louder but still not loud enough.

The spider has climbed up to rest onto of his car, all of its eyes still fixed on Oscar.

"Don't wanna be eaten." Oscar cries.

He pulls his knees to his chest and backs up the last couple of centimetres to the wall, shaking in fear. He doesn't understand why he can't get up and run like he always does. He's never frozen like this before, always had control of his voice and body to be able to get help.

"Please leave me 'lone." Oscar begs the creepy crawly.

It doesn't budge, like a guard dog keeping him exactly where he is. His only hope is that Mark is almost done folding laundry and will be back soon.
Mark has decided that while he's there a moving laundry around he's going to put away whats been folded which is what is making this take longer than usual. He's been singing not just for himself because it's fun, but also so Oscar knows where he is in the house.

"How's it going in there koala bear?" Mark calls to the little as he crosses the hall.

He waits for a response and gets concerned when he doesn't hear one.
Oscar to his credit is trying to respond, to tell Mark he needs help because he's scared but he can't make the words loud enough to be heard.

"Oscar? Whats going on?" Mark asks.

Still no answer that he can hear, despite Oscar trying to plead for him to come to his rescue. Mark puts his laundry basket down and jogs to the living room.
Oscar looks up, tears running fast down his cheeks and he's shaking like a leaf in a wind storm.

"Daddy." He says so quietly Mark almost misses it.

"Whats the matter, koala bear? What happened?" Mark asks, coming over to scoop him up.

Oscar points a shaking finger to what Mark will admit is a fairly large spider perched on one of his hot wheels.
Oscar has come out of his frozen state and is sobbing hard in fear and relief into Marks shoulder.

"Kill it, daddy!" Oscar begs, tucking himself as tight as possible.

"Ok, ok, baby, daddy will take care of it." Mark promises.

He takes Oscar to the kitchen where he gets a container and piece of paper, bringing everything back to the living room.

"Daddy's go it baby, stay right here for me." Mark says as he sits Oscar on the couch.

Oscar has no intention at all of moving from right here on the couch, not planning on getting anywhere near his eight legged captor.
Mark crouches down next to the arachnid, using the container to flick it off Oscar's car then catch it before it can run away. Oscar yelps from his spot on the couch as he watches.

"It's alright koala bear, I've got it." Mark reassures him as he slides the paper under the container.

He's dealt with far bigger spiders so he knows what to do. He holds the creature in its makeshift cell and takes it outside, setting it free on the balcony.

"All gone, you don't have to be scared anymore." Mark says softly.

He lifts Oscar up off the couch.

"Was so scared." Oscar cries to Mark.

"I bet koala bear, I'm sorry I didn't come check on you." The caregiver apologizes.

Oscar coughs out another cry, letting all the fear go. Mark holds him steady, waiting while Oscar calms down. He can feel that Oscar needs a change, but he won't move until the little is ready.

"It's gone baby, all gone. You're safe." Mark whispers.

Oscar holds him tighter, his crying tapering off some. Mark starts to sway, continuing to whisper comforts to him as he very clearly needs them.

"Shh, shh, it's all over little one." Mark says.

"So big." Oscar whimpers between tears.

"I know it was, but it's gone, and you're safe." Mark tells him.

Oscar's breathing is uneven and shaky but he's a lot calmer now than he was ten minutes ago.

"Should we get you changed, koala bear?" Mark asks after another minute.

Oscar nods, holding tight still to Mark as they move down the hall to his nursery.
As his back hits the table he yawns and Mark checks his watch. It's just about nap time now, and he will for sure not be doing that on his own. So Mark grabs his koala onesie, stripping him of his day clothes and pulling his soaked diaper off.

"You were really scared, huh?" Mark says sadly.

Oscar nods, hiccuping a little. Mark coos sympathetically and gets him cleaned up. Oscar shivers under the wipes, and Mark feels a bad. So he gets the boy re-diapered quickly and snaps him up in his onesie.

"I think a nap and a cuddle on the couch are in order." Mark declares.

"Yes please." Oscar agrees.

Mark smiles and lifts him up, taking him to do exactly that.

Chapter Text

If you were to ask Gabi how he is feeling about his new routine and little gear he would tell you not great. Fernando said that not everything would change but it sure feels like fucking enough has. He's staying with Fernando, he has his own room, Fernando ordered actual little clothes for him and dammit if they aren't actually comfortable. Probably the worst for him though is the implementation of a daily 1 hour nap and the car seat Fernando ordered and makes him sit in when they are going somewhere. That has caused more than one meltdown so needless to say he's not doing too well.
Like even right now, Gabi is in the living room, playing with his toys and trying to ignore the growing pain in his ear. From the corner of his eye he can see Fernando approaching, that dumb look on his face whenever he tries to broach a topic that Gabi doesn't like. He's not stupid, he knows exactly what time it is and what Fernando is going to try and get him to do. He can tell you one thing, he's not going, at least not without a fight.

"Gabi, my darling, why don't we go lay down for a bit?" Fernando suggests.

Gabi gives him a mean stare, a clear 'no' in his own way, then returns to his game. He hears Fernando sigh softly and approach him quietly until he's crouched next to him.

"Hey there, can you look at me?" Fernando asks softly.

Gabi turns that same unhappy, somewhat mean stare back to him. He will not give up that easy, no damned way.

"You're looking a little tired, darling. I'm not sure about you, but I think a little lay down might be nice." Fernando words this very deliberately.

"I'm not tired!" Gabi exclaims, getting upset already.

"Ok, I'm sorry. But I still think a lay down could be nice." Fernando says, still trying to convince him.

"I don't want to!" Gabi yells, tears forming in his eyes.

His ear is getting aggravated by him getting upset, his own voice bouncing around in his skull. He can't help but wince at the pain, not going unnoticed by the caregiver.

"Are you ok, love, something bothering you?" Fernando asks.

"No, no. 'M fine. Go lay down." Gabi concedes.

He would have fought harder, but Fernando caught on to the fact that somethings wrong and that could open him up to a doctor's visit and he will be absolutely damned if that happens. Honestly it's going to be over his dead body.

"Ok, let's go then." Fernando says, expecting more fight from his little.

Gabi goes willingly, letting Fernando change his day clothes for soft, brand new pjs, and guide him into bed. In a moment of weakness, Gabi grabs Fernando's wrist before he can leave.

"Stay?" He asks quietly.

Fernando smiles softly. "Of course snuggle bug."

Gabi shuffles over and lets Fernando get in next to him. The caregiver pulls him back and to his chest, playing with his curls.

"Close your eyes, my love. I'll be here when you wake up." Fernando coos softly.

Gabi huffs, trying to fight the pulls of sleep but it's so hard and he can't do it. His eyes fall shut and stay shut, falling into a deep sleep while Fernando holds him.

—

Gabi wakes up a half hour later, a throbbing pain in his ear that has gotten to the point of being unbearable. A hand flies up to cup his ear, hoping to stop the pain, a pained little whine leaving him. Fernando lifts his head up, taking in the sight before him. Tears are slipping out of Gabis eyes as both hands hold his ear.

"Daddy!" He wails as the pain keeps getting worse.

"Whats wrong, does your ear hurt?" Fernando asks.

"Hurts bad!" He cries.

"Ok, we'll get you fixed up." Fernando promises.

He lifts Gabi out of bed and takes him to the kitchen. Gabi thinks maybe he'll get some Advil or something and they can move on with their day, but Fernando grabs his phone and keys then heads for the door. He shoves shoes on and heads out. Gabi is too busy focusing on the pain in his ear to really register where he's being taken.

"Ok, down we go, good boy." Fernando praises as he lowers Gabriel into his car seat.

"Daddy, no! Up!" Gabi sobs, refusing to let go of his caregivers neck.

"I'm sorry love, we need to make your ear feel better." Fernando says.

He reaches up and unwraps Gabis arms from his neck, getting a scream as he does so. The Spaniard feels awful as he ignores his baby's wailing and buckles him into his car seat.

"Good boy, you're so good." Fernando coos, kissing the littles forehead.

"Don't leave!" Gabriel wails, trying to grab back onto Fernando's neck.

"I'm not leaving, I'm just going to be up front. You're not going to be alone, I swear." The caregiver promises.

He kisses both of Gabis palms and shuts his door. He winces as he hears the scream from inside the car. He jogs to the drivers seat, hopping in and quickly buckling up.

"You're ok, snuggle bug, daddy's still here." Fernando says, rubbing Gabis knee.

He moves his hand back to the wheel and he pulls out onto the busy street. Gabis hands come back to cup his ear, trying to make the pain stop.
Fernando goes a wee bit over the speed limit to get Gabriel to the doctor. He is almost entirely sure it's a run of the mill ear infection that will clear with drops and antibiotics, but he can't get those by himself.

"Nooo!" Gabi howls when he realizes where they are.

"I know I'm sorry." Fernando says, now worried for his own ears.

He gets out of the car, taking a breath and grabbing his crying little. The contact cuts the cries, and he hides his head in the caregivers shoulder.

"You're being very brave I'm so proud of you." Fernando praises just before pushing the door open to the clinic.

"Bonjour, what can I do for you guys?" The receptionist asks.

"Hi, I'm just wondering if you have time to look at his ear, I think it's an ear infection but I want someone to look at it." Fernando says.

"Of course we have time, I just need you to fill out these papers and we'll get him looked at." She smiles, passing a clipboard and pen over.

"Thank you." Fernando smiles, taking the clip board and sitting down.

He keeps Gabi in his laps, the little shaking while he fills out the paper work.

"You're being so good, love, we'll be out of here before you know it." Fernando coos.

"Home please." Gabi begs quietly.

"As soon as we've had you looked at." Fernando says, getting up and passing the clipboard back.

"Shouldn't be much longer." The receptionist says.

"Thank you." The man smiles and takes Gabi back to sit.

"So good for me, daddy's so proud." Fernando whispers, rocking the little softly.

Gabi shakes, holding tight to Fernando's shirt as a safety net.

"Gabriel Bortoleto?" A nurse comes out.

"Thats him." Gent says and stands.

"How are you guys doing today?" The nurse asks.

"He's very nervous." Fernando says.

"That's ok, we'll get you guys out of here as quick as we can." She says.

The nurse opens the door to an exam room.

"The doctor will be with you shortly if you want to sit in on the bed." She says.

"Ok, thank you." Fernando smiles.

She smiles back and shuts the door.

"Good boy, let's sit." Fernando says.

"Stay please." Gabi says, holding tight to his caregiver.

"I'm not leaving you, I promise I won't." Fernando says, hopping up with Gabi on the exam bed.

He rocks Gabi until there is a knock on the door and a young looking doctor pokes her head in.

"Hi there, I'm Dr. Mathew, I hear we have a possible ear infection." She smiles.

"Hi, yes I think so." Fernando smiles back to her.

Gabi takes one look at her and looks away.

"Sorry he's nervous." Fernando adds.

"That's alright, we're going to chat first anyway before I touch." She says. "How old is his headspace?"

"Between three and five years old." Fernando responds.

"Uh-huh, and when did you notice the symptoms?" She asks, writing it down.

"This morning just before I got him down for a nap, he seemed sensitive in the left ear. Then he woke up crying because of the pain." Fernando says.

"Alright, it does sound like an ear infection. If it's alright I'm going to take a quick look." She says.

"Yes of course." Fernando nods. "Gabi, love, I need you to keep being brave while the doctor takes a look."

"No touching." Gabi whimpers.

"I'll get you something sweet if you let her look." Fernando bargains.

"Fine." Gabi mumbles.

Fernando nods to her and she nods back. She comes over, gloving up her hands to have a look. And looking at her quickly Gabi nopes out. He starts to wiggle, trying to get away from both adults.

"Gabriel, it's ok, she's not going to hurt you." Fernando promises.

"No! Down!" Gabi begs, crying again.

"Honey she needs to have a look." Fernando says.

"If you just want to hold him I'll try to be fast." She says.

"Ok, I'm so sorry baby." Fernando sighs, hugging Gabi tight to his chest.

Gabi screams and tries to thrash out of Fernando's arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Fernando whispers while the doctor takes a look.

Gabi sobs loudly, probably audible from the waiting room. He's so desperately trying to get away from Fernando but he has been in Formula 1 longer than he's been alive and is too strong for Gabi to slip out.

"Ok, all done." Dr. Mathew says and steps back.

"Thank you." Fernando says, starting to rock Gabi again.

"It's definitely an ear infection, so I'm going to write you two prescriptions. One is for antibiotics to be given three times a day, ideally at meal time, and ear drops to be administered once a day before bedtime." She explains, writing both prescriptions.

"Thank you very much." Fernando says over Gabis cries.

"You're welcome. I'll give you guys a few minutes to calm down, but I hope you have a good rest of your day." She smiles and leaves them.

"Didn't want to be touched!" Gabi cries.

"I know, I'm so sorry love, daddy's so sorry." Fernando says.

Gabi chocks out another sob, so Fernando stands up and bounces him. The ear infection is not helping and they need to go fill those prescriptions.

"Ok, shh, shh, we need to calm down." Fernando says.

Gabi shudders out a few more cries before collapsing against his caregivers chest.

"Such a good boy, let's get you home." Fernando says.

They head out and down to the pharmacy downstairs, and Fernando had the prescriptions filled. It takes longer than Fernando would like, he wants to get Gabi home and start these meds. The kid is also still in pjs, those are home clothes, which is exactly where he needs to be.

"I assume the doctor explained how these work?”the pharmacist says.

"Yes she did." Fernando nods.

"Perfect, give him the first antibiotic when you get home and you should be set to go." He says.

"Thank you very much, have a good day." Fernando says.

"You as well."

Armed with the meds, Fernando takes Gabi home, no fight about the car seat this time, every fibre of energy he ever had is now gone.

"Daddy is so extremely proud of you, love." Fernando says softly.

Gabi hiccups softly from so much crying, and Fernando imagines his throat feels pretty scratchy.

"Let's get you home." The caregiver coos.

Gabi nods, and Fernando kisses both his hands like he did before they left, then shuts his door to get him back to where he feels safe.

Chapter Text

Kimi wakes up in the warm embrace of his mama cuddling him close to her chest in the morning. It's a race day, so they have a bit of extra time before they have to leave, which allows for such pleasant wake up calls. He can hear his caregivers talking but he's not ready to open his eyes and face the harsh light, just not yet.
He feels Carmen move, a second, close voice that he identifies as George, then soft lips on his forehead. He cracks his eyes open to look up at the loving faces of his caregivers, smiles, then shuts them again. But he soon feels familiar rubber on his lips, slowly moving back and forth and he opens his mouth to accept either the bottle or the pacifier, he's not sure which until he gives a small suck and milk flows into his mouth. Can he be woken up like this every morning? This is great. He can hear George puttering, the sound of bags opening and closing around him and slowly he opens his eyes.

"Hi my baby." Carmen coos softly.

Kimi coos back to her as he finishes his bottle. George smiles as he comes back into view, brushing some unruly curls out of Kimis eyes.

"What do you think sweetheart, should we get you changed so we can head out?" George asks.

Kimi sighs, not sure if he's entirely ready to go, not when he's so comfy still in pjs. But as he thinks about it he realizes just how soaked his diaper is, and the fact that it's cold against his skin and maybe a tad itchy, so he nods. George smiles and lifts him off Carmen's lap. She gets up as soon as she's free, grabbing herself a change of clothes but Kimi can't see what she has as they move around the corner of the bathroom out of view. They can still hear her moving, but she is out of sight now, especially when George sets Kimi down to be changed. George hums, unsnapping Kimis onesie and pulling it off. Kimi shivers, whining unhappily to George, a shiver ripping through as he looses the warmth from his pjs.

"I know, I'm sorry sweetheart." George says, quickly changing Kimis diaper.

"Here, I have clothes for him." Carmen says, popping her head in.

"Thanks love, we're just about done here." George says.

Kimi huffs, wishing to be done now, he's cold and missing the steady contact from earlier when he was having his bottle. George coos softly while he tapes up the sides of his diaper, then gives the front a small pat.

"All done, we'll just get you dressed then we can get going." He says.

"Mama." Kimi reaches out for Carmen, making grabby hands at her.

She smiles and steps around George to Kimi, sitting him up on the table.

"Hi baby." She says, kissing his head.

Kimi smiles happily now that he has both his caregivers back with him, and lifts his arms as instructed so George can pull his shirt on. It's followed by track pants that cover his diaper nicely and that he likes because they are comfortable.

"Alright, I think we are ready then." George says.

"I'd say so." Carmen nods.

George lifts Kimi off the table and returns out to the bedroom to put shoes on. Carmen is ready and has been ready so she grabs the bags sitting on the bed and their room key off the counter of the kitchenette. Then she gets the door, holding it open for George and Kimi who steps out into the hallway before she follows.
They are on the top floor this week, nearly forty floors to descend down to the parking garage below the main floor. If it weren't so many flights of stairs they would just walk because they noticed Kimi has become apprehensive about elevators, but it is so much faster to just take one down.

"It's ok baby, dadas got you, this will be over before you know it." George promises as soon as he presses the down button.

Kimi whimpers and tucks himself away safely in George's chest, hands fisting up his shirt to make himself feel better about what is to come next.
George bounces him and Carmen pulls out a pacifier from his diaper bag, slipping it past his lips wordlessly, just attune to what her baby needs. Then the doors open and Kimi shrinks sways.

"You've got this, sweetheart, we're right here with you." George says quietly as they step on the elevator.

Kimi can't help but whimper again regardless, some sort of terrified, strangled noise follows right after as well. George rubs Kimis back, starting to sway while Carmen presses the button for the garage. The doors close, ceiling them in and they start to go down.
The numbers tick by at a steady pace, from forty to thirty-five and so on. Kimi is doing the best he can, whimpering here and there and his hands have made their way under George's shirt but that's fine, if it's what will get him to the other side of the door then thats what he will get. They keep up a heavy flow of praise as well, promising they will be out soon, that he's being so good for them. And he's managing, he's not crying, just a little uncomfortable, that is until they stop abruptly. George looks up, the floor number paused, a bright red, digital '6' displayed just above the doors.

"Whats going on?" George asks aloud.

"I don't know." Carmen responds, trying to keep her voice calm.

Kimi whimpers when he notices they've stopped moving, his hands curling, nails scratching George's back and the caregiver does his best not to wince. He knows Kimi is scared so he won't say anything, just get Carmen to put a bit of cream on the scratches so they heal quickly.

"It's ok sweetheart, you're safe, we've got you." George promises.

"Why stopped?" Kimi asks, his voice light with the settle of panic.

"We're not sure yet, but I'm sure we will be moving again soon." George says, praying he's not unknowingly lying.

Carmen pulls Fiffi out of Kimis bag now, tucking her safely under his arm. Kimi pulls one hand out of George's shirt to clutch at his beloved stuffed animal, trying to comfort himself with it.

"Do you have cell service?" George asks quietly, trying not to scare Kimi.

"Umm... no I don't." Carmen checks her phone.

She pulls George's phone out of his back pocket to see if he has service, just on the off chance. He doesn't so now that it's been a few too many minutes, Carmen presses the emergency button. An alarm goes off, scaring Kimi and making him hold tighter to his dada. A voice crackles over the small speaker a minute later, a tired sounding woman on the other side.

"Hello, whats the matter?" She asks, sounding exhausted and over it.

"Hi umm, we are stuck in the elevator on the sixth floor." Carmen responds.

"Ok, stay calm we will send someone to get you out." She says, sounding no less bored.

"Thank you." Carmen says, irritated by her.

"Stuck?!" Kimi panics.

"Oh shit." Carmen curses quietly.

"Kimi, it's going to be ok love, just breathe." George tries to catch him before he can panic.

It is a bit late for that though, Kimi knows they are trapped and now they are going to die trapped in a metal box. Things spiral quickly in the mind of a one year old, even worse when said one year old is in a panic.
His breathing is already starting to catch in his throat, and nothing George can do is enough to settle him. The swaying isn't enough, the pacifier wasn't enough and now it's on the floor and unusable, Fiffi isn't even enough. His breathing is getting so short and ragged it is coming out audibly strained, like someone inside is trying to suck the air back in to suffocate him.

"Kimi, come on baby, breathe with me, you're going to hurt yourself if you don't breathe." George says, taking deep breaths and trying to get Kimi to copy him.

The poor thing has started to shake, his vision getting fuzzy in the corners.

"Sit down with him, sitting will help." Carmen instructs, already getting down to the floor.

George sits, Kimi hugged to his chest in his lap. He's starting to feel nauseous because he's lightheaded. He can't calm himself down, blind in a panic, and almost blind from lack of oxygen. George takes both Kimis hands in his, placing them flat on his chest.

"Copy dada, sweetheart, just like me." George says, breathing in deep.

Kimi, to his credit, tries. He tries so hard to copy George, to match the rhythm in which he's breathing steadily, in-out, in-out but he's finding it hard.
George knows they are late now, supposed to be at the track in the next two or so minutes to prepare with the team and that they will be lucky to even get out of here by then. So Carmen presses the button again.

"Yeah?" It's a new reception now.

"Hi, we've been stuck in the elevator for a while now, is there someone coming to get us? We have a little having a panic attack in here." Carmen says, maybe a little rudely but they need to get Kimi out of here.

"Oh my god, yes sorry, I'm sending someone right now, just give me two seconds."

Kimi wails as he finally gets a proper breath in and George pulls him right to his chest.

"Shh, shh, I've got you." He whispers, starting to rock.

"Someone is on their way right now, it should only be a few minutes." The new receptionist says.

"Thank you." Carmen says tightly.

Whoever was working the desk before just left them here, which is part of the reason Kimi is coming down from a panic attack right now. Her jaw ticks in anger, if she ever gets her hands on that woman, she will knock her teeth out. Kimi still isn't breathing properly as sobbing has taken place of strangled hyperventilation. George is trying so hard to calm him down, to sooth the crying.

"Ok sweetheart, let's try this." George says.

He then moves Kimi to be resting sideways in his lap, holding the little tight with one arms the brushes his knuckles over his lips lightly. Kimi jumps at the opportunity, taking a few fingers into his mouth to sooth himself on, his crying ebbing away.

"That's it, good boy." George coos.

They sit a few more minutes before finally starting to move again, the elevator moving down, the numbers ticking away rhythmically again. Kimi continues to sooth himself on George's knuckles, the two remaining on the floor until the elevator doors open. Two men in work clothes are stood outside waiting for them. George quickly shields Kimis face from them, tucking it away in his shoulder so he can still get up.

"Are you three alright?" One of the men asks.

"Yes, thank you for getting us out." Carmen sighs in relief, quickly stepping out.

George stands up and gets Kimi off the elevator, feeling a deep sigh of relief leave the little around his fingers.
The two men nod at them and continue to tinker, presumably trying to find what the problem was that got them stuck. They continue to the car, George tosses the keys to Carmen for her to drive and gets himself in the backseat with Kimi. Carmen pulls out the pacifier from the glove box, handing it to George who replaces his fingers. He then pulls out his phone, dozens upon dozens of texts greet him.

'Where are you guys??' - Toto. 'You're never late what is going on???'

More of the kind follow so George quickly answers.

'Got stuck in the elevator, on our way now' - George.

The he puts his phone away and focuses back to Kimi.

"You were so brave my love, mama and I are so proud of you." He says.

Kimi hiccups and holds George's hand tight, determined never to let that happen again.

Chapter Text

Everyone is honestly surprised when the FIA don't red flag the race after the formation lap, everyone except Oscar, the race leader, can't even see the tail lights of the car two feet in front of them with how heavy the rain is coming down. It may as well just be a sheet of water, ruts already forming on track where rubber has been previously laid, all hope for grip gone and for the first time in the history of forever, the full wet tires are being used by everyone. There is a lot of radio chatter, driver to engineers asking if this is safe, and engineers back to drivers basically saying no but to try their best.
It can't be overly exciting for the fans, everyone is being cautious, especially as the wind picks up and tries to shove every car sideways. This also means the rain is now and diagonal sheet, slamming against the cars, making it even harder to drive. Franco is trying so hard to fight with the weather and the already difficult car, and he just wants this to be over now. He keeps asking how many more laps, where Lando is ahead of him, if there is any news about the rain, but he gets pretty much nothing. Alpine is not as kind as Williams; 'keep your head down, keep pushing,' the only responses he gets whenever he asks damned questions. This team isn't as fun to drive for, and Franco also finds himself missing Alex.

"How many laps now?" Franco asks.

"34, head down, keep pushing." His engineer says.

He growls in frustration, tried of hearing that phrase and in the heat of said frustration, he hits a forming puddle, the tires popping out from under him, sending him skidding onto the gravel trap and nose first into the wall. Things go blank in Franco's mind, starting straight out of his visor dully while it feels like he steps out of his physical body and just watches. He's regressing fast, his fingers unable to move to radio for help, but he can hear a voice in his head, just can't register it. There are some louder voices a little further away, and all he can do is whimper. There is a voice he recognizes though, something pulling him towards it and he moves just a little but he can't get very far, something holding him back. He looks over his own shoulder and sees that he's still strapped into the car. Before he can do anything about that problem there are hands on him and he's being moved. He whimpers quietly as he's touched by unfamiliar hands, trying to tell them to stop but he doesn't have the right words.
That familiar voice can be heard again, closer now, but angry. Is that anger towards him? He really hopes not, prays it's not Flavio here to scream at him again while he's in the most vulnerable state he has. He hears doors shutting and more voices and this time instead of a whimper he lets out a loud wail. Too much, too much, but he feels like he's just standing by and watching himself deteriorate.

—

Lando is pissed beyond belief, he saw Franco crash and tried to go help his sunshine who had hardly moved from his car but the marshals wouldn't let him near Franco.
He storms down the pit lane and into the Alpine garage where he can hear his little wailing. Too much, too much.
He shoves his way past mechanics, still burning that fire at being denied Franco as he forces his way into the medical suite where Franco is a screaming nonsense at everyone.

"Whats going on?" Lando demands.

"Oh good, I was wondering when you were getting here." Elisa says.

"Would have come with him... if I was allowed." She shoots a death stare to the marshals still in the room, then turns back to the doctor.

"It's nothing overly severe, some bruising where the seatbelts caught him, and probably a sprained ankle from the peddles snapping back when the nose crumpled. He's in what I like to call a micro drop right now." She explains.

"What does that mean?" Lando asks, never having heard the term before.

"It's a small stress drop, it won't last as long as a regular one, and it's like dissociation for him. Physically he's with us, but he can't really feel anything right now and he may not remember the crash, and he's not registering who we are right now." She explains.

"So he doesn't know who I am?" Lando asks, his face falling.

"He will on some level, but he wouldn't be able to pick you out as his daddy until he comes back up." She explains. "You might be able to calm him down now though."

"I can touch?" Lando asks.

"Yeah, he's going to be fine, I'm not worried." Elisa says.

Lando nods and slides into bed next to Franco, hoisting the little up so he's resting on his chest.

"Hey sunshine, whats with the screaming, hmm?" Lando asks softly.

Franco makes a small, quizzical sound in the back of his throat, the screaming stopping and everyone breathes in silent relief. Their eardrums spared a bit of pain.

"Yeah, there we go, you're safe, I'm right here." Lando coos.

Franco relaxes, shuddering and shutting his eyes.

"What do I do?" Lando asks Elisa.

"Do what you've been doing, but remember he's younger than you're used to and he doesn't have the same energy levels. I'm not saying this is going to be easy, lord knows it's not, but you're going to be the only person who can help him back." Eliza's says.

Lando nods, looking down at Franco who is starting straight ahead pretty blankly.

"What I would suggest is you get him changed and take him to the hotel, get him something to eat and goodnight sleep, tomorrow is a new day and he may be feeling better." She adds.

"Ok, thanks for helping." Lando says.

She smiles kindly at them. "You're welcome."

Lando slides off the bed, carefully lifting Franco into his arms, the little loosely wrapping his arms around Landos neck on instinct. Lando sighs softly, kissing Franco's head and taking him out of the hostile environment that is Alpine. He can see Flavio grinding his jaw as he watches them leave, his eyes like steel. Lando shoots him an aggressive look back, nearly snarling at him and watching the tiny flicker of shock in the team boss. Lando is protecting Franco, especially when he's small like this, he will not let Flavio make anything worse.
He takes Franco up the steps into McLaren, carefully avoiding any cameras on their way. If he didn't know better he would think Franco is asleep with how still he is, such a stark contrast to his usual hyperactive personality.

"Ok sunshine, we'll get you changed then we can go home." Lando says, setting Franco down on his own massage table.

"Wha-" Franco cuts himself off mid word.

But it's more than a whimper or scream so Lando is taking it as a good sign.

"It's alright love, daddy's here." Lando promises, pushing his top up and kissing his exposed belly.

A tiny, breathy laugh falls from Franco at Landos fairy light kisses, his stubble tickling his tummy. It makes the caregiver feel a bit better, Franco's eyes flickering with a tiny bit of light.

"There's my baby." Lando whispers, then finally moves to get him changed.

Franco was changed out of his race suit, put in basic sweatpants and a plain, uncomfortable Alpine shirt. This will be rectified now. Lando strips him, pulling the pull-up off that someone put on him and replacing it with a diaper, clearly Franco will be dependant on them tonight, then much more comfortable sweatpants slide over it. To finish, Franco's favourite hoodie belonging to Lando gets pulled over his head. Another small flicker in Franco's eyes, then they track as Lando pulls out his baby blanket and wraps it around his shoulders.

"Let's get you out of here." Lando says.

He grabs all the bags they brought, then picks Franco up, juggling to make sure his blanket doesn't drop and neither do their bags.
He must look like he's struggling as he steps out into the hall at the same time as Oscar and Mark. Oscar is not yet little, he knows his teammate well enough by know to know the difference, but he looks like he's slowly on his way.

"Hey, do you need help?" Mark asks.

"Umm... yeah, that'd be great. Do you mind taking a bag or something?" Lando asks.

"Of course." Mark says.

He helps Lando get the bags off his shoulders, carrying all three for him so he can focus on Franco.

"Is he alright?" Oscar asks.

"He will be, the Alpine doctor called it a micro drop, so like a dissociative state when regressed." Lando explains what he remembers.

Oscar nods, observing Franco as the four head out to the parking lot.

"So when you say dissociative, like he isn't entirely here?" Mark asks.

"Yeah, I guess. She said that he would know it's me but wouldn't understand that I'm his daddy in a sense." Lando says.

Mark nods, feeling bad for the situation Lando currently finds himself in.

"I hope he gets better." Mark says.

"Thanks. Me too." Lando smiles meekly at him.

Lando unlocks the car and Mark opens the door with Franco's car seat for the Brit. He smiles thankfully at the man, who returns it then goes around to put bags in the passenger side.

"We'll meet you at the hotel, if you want to leave the car unlocked I'll run your bags up to you." Mark offers.

"I love you man." Lando chuckles.

Mark laugsh softly. "We'll see you soon." He says, then takes Oscar hand to get him back to the hotel.

"Alright sunshine, daddy's going to get you home now." Lando whispers.

Franco makes a throaty noise as Lando kisses his head, then shuts his door. He's hoping so much that this won't be long lasting, he hates seeing his poor baby like this.

—

Lando leaves the car unlocked and carries Franco up to their room, the little wrapped cozily up in his blanket. The door clicks shut softly behind them and as soon as it does, Lando starts to feel Franco's breathing get heavy on his shoulder. He panics at first, then there is an ear piercing wail. Damn dissociation.

"It's ok sunshine, it's ok, daddy's here." Lando bounces him, hoping it will help.

Franco continues to cry, his legs kicking about. Lando moves a hand down to support him better and discovers what set him off.

"Oh baby, ok, ok, we'll get you cleaned up." Lando says.

At least Franco is still voicing what he needs, even if it is by busting his eardrums. A new diaper is an easy fix, not a problem. He sets the little down on the bed, half swaddling him to hopefully bring some comfort while he steps away and grabs a new diaper. Franco is still crying, but it's tamped down with the pressure hug of his blanket.

"It's going to be ok, sunshine, daddy's right here." Lando coos.

He quickly changes Franco's diaper, pulling his sweatpants over the new one so he stays warm. As soon as he's dry he calms.

"Daddy." He whines pitifully, trying to move his wrapped up arms.

"That's right sunshine, it's daddy!" Lando cheers, but not too loudly.

Lando scoops Franco back up just in time for someone to knock. Lando goes and pulls the door open, finding Mark with their bags.

"Thank you so much." Lando says, letting the man in.

"It's not a problem, how are you doing?" Mark asks.

"We'll be just fine." Lando smiles.

"Good, call if you need anything but I have to get back to Oscar." He says.

"No worries, thanks again for the help." Lando says.

Mark smiles and leaves them be, and Lando hops up in bed, holding Franco close and hoping this is all better by morning.

Chapter Text

Franco has already crashed out of the race, he was a couple cars behind Ollie's own Haas, which red flagged the race for a while. Murmurs of shock are floating down the garages through the drivers. The caregivers who know are outraged on Landos behalf that he had to sprint the length of the track to get to see Franco when it wouldn't have been a hassle at all to let him ride with the kid in the car back down. The group chat is going haywire, everyone wishing Franco well and sharing their disgust at the marshals. It's in FIA records that Franco is Landos little even if it is not public information. It's something the stewards and marshals have so to deny Lando access is absurd.
Of course there is no response from the caregiver and the race gets resumed rather quickly, much to everyone dismay. It's not often the vets think the race should be canceled, but when they all agree you know it's bad. But regardless, Ollie hauls himself over the halo back into the car because the FIA seems determined to finish this race and it's his job to partake. He got an encouraging text from both his caregivers in the group chat they share, telling him to just do his best. It's nice to know he has his support there, so he does do his best, it just turns out his best is a lap and a half then engine failure which brings him back to the pits and ends his race.

"We'll get 'em next time, Ollie." Ayao radios in as he's wheeled back to his garage.

"Yeah, sorry." Ollie sighs.

"Not your fault." His boss promises.

It still sucks though, even if he's happy that he doesn't have to drive in this torrential downpour anymore, it's not a good feeling when your car decides to crap out on you. But he gets out with dignity, holding himself together as he heads up to change, pulling on at least a pull-up like his daddies told him, then classic jeans and a tshirt.
Now that he's dressed he heads downstairs back to the garage to watch the rest of the race with the team, perched on a counter top that isn't in the way. The yellow flag he caused didn't last long and the remaining cars are back to normal race pace already.
Honestly as a spectator it's somewhat boring, the visibility is garbage, there is hardly any overtaking, and race pace isn't as fast as normal. But Ollie watches, watches Charles fight to keep fourth position, watches Carlos fight his way up into ninth from starting in eleventh. He watches Kimi as he makes his way to his second Formula 1 podium of the year behind Oscar. A little one-two would be nice even if only a few people know it. Of course though, peace never lasts long when the red flag banner appears above the timing sheet. Ollie thinks briefly that the FIA realized just how dangerous these conditions are, but then the screen cuts to a car in the wall. It takes Ollie a second to figure out who it is, then he catches part of a '5' as the camera angle shifts and he figures it out.

"Papa?" Ollie croaks out.

He regresses fast, then all of a sudden he's this little 10 year old watching the Russian Grand Prix in his living room. The day was nice on track, it looked like a promising race of watching his hero's, he had no idea that his hero's would be so much more to him in his life than just someone he would look up to and hopefully meet.
But regardless, it wasn't a bad race by any means, and honestly he doesn't remember much of it until a junior RedBull car went flying off track, hurdling itself forward and only stopping on impact with the wall. Ollie was so scared watching that, and he feels the same now. This is no longer just Carlos Sainz to him, thats his papa, and he papa could be hurt.
The awful memories of watching Carlos when he was younger keep overlapping with the feed playing live before him now and he doesn't know which is real and which is the memory. He's starting to hyperventilate, trying to focus of reality as images Russia cut in between.

"Papa please." Ollie begs quietly, tears welling up and falling faster than he can catch them.

—

Carlos gets in the car that takes him back to the pit. He feels fine, he got out of the car fine, not much damage and thus not a big job for the mechanics later on. He keeps telling everyone that he is fine, they can stop poking, but they still run their very basic of tests to look for any signs of head trauma.

"I'm fine." Carlos says, pushing a hand away when he gets sick of them.

"There doesn't appear to be any injury of signs of concussion. You really should get looked at by your team doctor." One of the women says.

All that is on his mind right now though is Ollie, the little worries and he needs to get to him, put his mind at ease. He and Charles, ever the worriers, and the two when together in moments like this are a match made in hell.
As soon as Carlos is let out of the car, he slips away from the track side medics who are trying to get him to the Williams doctor, instead jogging away to get to Ollie. He doesn't care if he gets in trouble with someone, or if people are mad, Ollie is his top priority. He hears people calling for him but he ignores them all, ducking into the Haas garage and looking around for Ollie.
It takes him a second, but he finds the little curled up on a counter, hyperventilating and hiding his head in his knees. It doesn't take a genius to deduce he's mid panic attack and regressed. And this is why Carlos skipped the doctor and came here.

"Ollie, sweetie, you're ok." Carlos coos as he approaches.

"Papas dead!" Ollie cries, not understanding or registers that papa is right in front of him.

"Ollie, look at me bear." Carlos says, hopping up on the counter with the little.

Ollie sobs into his knees, fully convinced that Carlos is never coming back. He feels a hand on him and cries harder, he doesn't want to be taken, Charles is all he has left and he needs at least someone.

"Oliver, come on sweetie, let papa see you." Carlos tired again.

"Don't take me!" Ollie sobs as he finally looks up.

The hand moves from his foot to gently grab his chin, holding him steady like his papa always does. Finally, he actually looks at who is sitting next to him, but he doesn't quite believe what he is seeing. He thought papa was dead, that the crash was so horrific he would never see the man again, but here he is, perfectly fine sitting in front of him.

"Papa?" Ollie asks, unsure if his eyes are deceiving him or not.

"Hi sweetie." Carlos smiles at him.

It's the same comforting smile he gets when he scrapes his hands, or when a race doesn't go his way, or when he had a nightmare and needs a late night cuddle. Then it clicks, papa is actually here, alive and well, and what he was seeing in his mind were things of the past.

"Papa!" Ollie sobs and launches himself into the man's arms.

Carlos catches him with practiced ease, pulling him right into his lap and starting to rock. He doesn't know the full details of what is going on in his littles mind, but clearly it's nothing good. Fortunately he knows how to handle these situations, Ollie and Charles are surprisingly similar and he's gotten fairly good at this during the few years he spent with Charles before Ollie came along.

"Papas right here, I've got you." Carlos whispers, rocking back and forth, one hand cradling Ollie's head.

Ollie sobs into his shoulder, grabbing at his fireproofs, just not able to get close enough to settle himself. Carlos knows that if Ollie could he would crawl under his skin and still not be satisfied. He'll have to do with what he has for the current moment, and hopefully koala-ing himself to Carlos while the head for his driver room is acceptable.

"I know, sweetie, I know. Everyone is ok, I've got you." Carlos continues a steady line of reassurance as he takes the steps two at a time.

Ollie is still sobbing, fisting up more and more of Carlos' fire proofs to the point where his lower back is exposed. It's fine, he's soaked to the bone regardless so maybe he'll dry off a bit. Poor Ollie is getting all wet unfortunately, but he really doesn't seem to care and all Carlos needs is his bag.

"Just breathe, bear, thats all you need to do." Carlos says as he collects Ollie's stuff.

Ollie tries really hard to settle, practices the techniques he was taught by the caregivers and it works to a degree. Carlos is proud of him for trying regardless as he jogs over to his own hospitality.

"Good boy, you're doing great." Carlos encourages, mounting the final steps and stepping into his driver room.

"Papa!" Ollie cries, still checking it's real.

"Yes sweetie, papas got you. I'm just going to get you changed love." Carlos tells him.

Ollie's calmed down enough to be able to let go, with the added bonus of a new diaper. So he lets Carlos set him down and strip him out of his old clothes.

"Good boy getting yourself cleaned up." Carlos praises.

Ollie gives a small smile as Carlos diapers him, praise always makes him feel better.

"Now, want to tell papa what got you so scared?" Carlos asks as he finishes.

"W-was watching an' you crashed! Got scared then 'membered when was younger watching you crash 'gain, then got more scared." Ollie explains.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry." Carlos coos.

He pulls Ollie back to his chest, the poor thing getting wet again as Carlos hugs him. Ollie is crying softly again, shuddering as the memories of the crash again. But papa is here with him, alive and breathing and ok.

"I'm right here with you, sweetie, everyone is ok. I'm sure it was very scary though." Carlos says, rubbing Ollie's back.

The little nods on his shoulder, getting tried so his cries aren't as big anymore. Carlos also goes finishing in his bag, pulling out his pacifier, slipping it into Ollie's mouth and listening as his cries ebb away to little sniffles.

"Are you ok if I get changed?" Carlos asks a minute later.

Ollie nods, letting go of his caregivers fire proofs. He wants cuddles, but he wants dry cuddles so Carlos needs to change. Carlos kisses his forehead then sets him back on a couple pillows. He also pulls out Obbie, tucking the bear under his arms. Ollie looks tired now, hugging his bear and fighting as his eyes try to close on him. Carlos smiles softly and quickly gets himself changed, so glad to be out of his wet race suit. He slides on comfy shorts and a faded Renault shirt he kept because it's comfy. He'll change it before the leave for team appearance sake, but for Ollie's sake, he's not putting on that stiff material.

"Daddy will be back soon sweetie." Carlos comments as he lifts Ollie back up.

Ollie hums as he settles onto Carlos's chest, hoping it's true so he can have both his caregivers here to comfort. For now though, Carlos plays with his still slightly damp curls, humming some sort of lullaby making the fight to stay awake that much harder. Just before he nods off completely, the door cracks open and Charles walks in, but he can't fight long enough to know what happens next.

Chapter Text

Isack is exhausted after his race, falling into Daniel's arms as soon as he possibly could. Of course the Australian caught him before he could fall to the floor. He didn't quite manage to snag points today, just barely missing out so he's a little upset already.

"Daddy wanna go home." Isack sniffs while Daniel rocks him.

"We will soon cricket, we're just waiting on papa." Daniel says.

Isack calling him daddy is new, he's finally realized that Daniel isn't going to leave him, and he's accepted him as a permanent caregiver. Daniel was so over the moon when he heard Isack call him daddy for the first time and his heart still flutters when Isack says it.

"Why don't we get you changed while we wait for papa so we can just go when he gets here?" The caregiver suggests.

"Yes please." Isack agrees.

"So polite." Daniel smiles. "What a good boy."

He sets Isack down on the couch, grabbing his bag and pulling it over. He grabs sweatpants, a hoodie, and a pull-up, setting them on the table next to them and turning to Isack again and unzipping his suit. Isack lets Daniel do all the work, knowing he will because he cares. That and he's too tired to bother helping.

"You're being so great, cricket, I'll be done before you know it." Daniel praises.

Isack sighs in content, lifting his hips so Daniel can get pull the pull-up up. It's followed by grey sweatpants, hiding the waistband of his pull-up, which is then further covered by his VCARB hoodie.

"There we go, nice and cozy." Daniel coos.

Isack lifts his arms and Daniel lifts him up, Isack wrapping his arms around the man's neck. Daniel hums something Isack doesn't recognize, a song Daniel's mother used to sing to him to help him get to sleep at night. Isack sighs happily, and Daniel wants to melt into the floor. They clicked pretty well right away and Daniel loves that he can be the one to scoop Isack up when he needs after a race or just in general.
The door creaks opens and Max's face appears, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

"He sleeping?" Max asks quietly.

"Not quite, but he's getting there." Daniel responds.

"Don't need sleep." Isack mumbles, his cheek pressed on Daniel's shoulder making his words a little harder to understand.

"Ok cricket." Daniel laughs softly. "You don't have to sleep yet."

"Let's go home, we'll watch a movie before bedtime." Max suggests.

That is an agreeable suggestion and Isack nods, just barely noticeable, but Max and Daniel are attuned to Isack so they catch it anyway. Max picks up the two bags in the room, Isacks little bag and his regular track bag, adding it to the collection he's already carrying, both his and Daniel's track bags. Now that they have everything collected, they head out the door into the evening. It's quieting down out here, most of the drivers gone by now, and it's mostly mechanics just closing up the garages to ship off the cars. It makes walking through while holding Isack a little safer because the paddock itself is pretty well deserted.
Unfortunately the streets aren't as deserted as the paddock was, and they decided to walk the five minutes this morning from their hotel, which at the time Isack was big and it didn't seem like such a big deal. Now he's not big, not walking on his own and very exposed to the evening crowds.

"Max!?" The voice of a young man calls from behind them.

Max and Daniel turn and their stomachs drop, the young fan is already recording, their phone out and pointed at the three of them, Isacks face while not completely visible is clear in the footage.

"Can we get a picture?" The fan asks.

"Umm, sure." Max agrees.

Daniel silently gestures that he's going to keep going and meet Max back at the hotel. Max nods and turns back to the fan, giving a tight lipped smile for the pictures he wants to take. Daniel and Isack are out of sight now and Max is just hoping they made it to the hotel without being stopped again. The fan thanks Max for the picture and Max is back on his way. He really, really hopes that fan will keep the videos and pictures to himself as a cute memory for himself, for Isacks sake.
When Max opens the door to their hotel room he can hear Daniel singing, something he likes to do but also something that soothes Isack. Max quickly shuts and locks the door, making his presence known as Daniel steps backwards out to see the door.

"Oh good, we were getting worried." Daniel sighs.

Isack pops his head off Daniel's shoulder, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"He wasn't happy we left without you." Daniel explains, handing Isack over to Max.

Max breaths in deeply, hugging the boy close as an anxious ball starts to knot itself in his gut. Isack doesn't mind, he has his papa back and that's all he truly cares about.

"Movie?" The little asks, pushing himself up a bit.

"I did promise one." Max nods.

Isack smiles, letting his head fall back to smile at Daniel who returns it to him. Max takes Isack and settles him on his and Daniel's bed, quickly wiggling out of his jeans and crawling in bed, pulling the little to his side. Daniel gets in and pulls both of them over to him and they pick a movie to watch.
Max tries to pay attention but he just can't with nerves gnawing away at his insides. Isack doesn't seem to notices, so that's something he supposes, but he's still properly stressed.

—

Max is a bit of a sucker and lets Isack sleep in bed with them that night. Daniel offered to put him to bed long after Isack was already asleep, Max on his way there but he got growled at by the Dutch caregiver and quickly dropped the idea.
Daniel is the first awake, the sun barely risen in the sky. He likes being the first one up, it gives him some time to himself in the morning to just relax before the day gets started. Today is not going to be that day though, he wakes up and the first thing that pops up on his feed is a breaking news headline.

'BREAKING: Isack Hadjar a little?'

"Fuck." Daniel whispers, reading the small artical written.

It boils down to the video the fan took of them last night, that Isack was very clearly in headspace and that Max and Daniel are his caregivers. All of it is true, that part he can't deny, but Isack is going to be so distraught when he finds out about this.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Daniel says to himself.

He reaches over Isack and shakes Max awake. Max groans, taking one hand away from Isack to swat at Daniel.

"Maaax." Daniel hisses quietly.

"What." Max groans, cracking an eye open. "What time is it?"

"It's 7 in the morning, Max." Daniel says.

"Why the fuck are you up?" Max mutters.

"Look." Daniel sighs, shoving his phone in Max's face.

Max squints, adjusting to the bright screen and trying to read. Once he can properly see, he shoots up, grabbing the phone from Daniel.

"No, no, no, no, no, no." He stresses, hand running through his hair.

He tosses the phone back to Daniel and picks up his own, getting out of bed to call Laurent, time of morning be damned.

"Daddy?" Isack asks groggily.

"Hi cricket." Daniel smiles to him, scooting the little into his lap.

"Where's papa?" Isack asks, rubbing his eyes of sleep.

"He's talking to Laurent." Daniel says.

"Why?" Isack asks.

Daniel sighs. "I'm so sorry cricket, but someone released a video of us last night on our way home, and now there are people talking about your headspace."

"W-what?" Isacks voice cracks. "No. No, no."

He starts crying, and Daniel pulls him right up to his chest as the first strangled sob escapes his throat.

"I'm sorry cricket, we're so sorry." Daniel says over and over as he rocks Isack back and forth.

Isacks sobbing escalates to wailing, which Daniel is sure is waking the people next to them. But Daniel rocks him, holding him close as he tries to comfort the poor thing. He gets his gorilla that he has recently named shark, tucking it in Isacks arms. He starts to sing as well, hoping his magic will work in helping Isack calm down, but it feels like a futile attempt.
Max hops back on the bed, curling close to the pair, taking one of Isacks hands in his.

"What did Laurent say?" Daniel asks.

"He woke the media and marketing team, they're going to draft a statement to put out later today for both teams. He said they would send it over if we wanted to read it when it's done but to just focus on him for now." Max relays.

Daniel nods, returning his attention to Isack.

"He's going to make himself sick." Max says quietly.

Daniel hums in agreement. He's still rocking, and he goes back to singing while Max slides off the bed. Isack needs all the help he can possibly get, so Max grabs his little bag, fishing out a pacifier, a blanket Isack likes and then grabs hoodies from both his bag and Daniel's bag. He then crawls back on the bed. Isack is getting to the point of hyperventilating and Daniel feels useless to help. So Max does.
He pops the pacifier in Isacks mouth, shocking the little, who after a second tried to reject it, but Max is smart, holding it there until he calms a bit and takes it on his own.

"Such a good boy." Max coos.

He wraps Daniel's hoodie around his shoulders, then drapes his own in Isacks lap. Finally to finish he tucks the blanket around Isack.
Isack is breathing rather raggedly, trying to catch his breath but he is no longer crying, not with all the support he has. Daniel reaches up to clean his face off his the sleeve of the hoodie he is currently wearing, and Isack grabs his wrist.

"We're here little one, you're safe with us." Daniel promises.

"Papa." Isack asks, reaching a hand out for Max as well.

"Hi schat, papa loves you so much." Max coos.

Isack hiccups holding both of their hands, shuddering every time he takes a breath and lets it go.

"We're going to protect you, schat. No one is going to hurt you, daddy and I will make sure of it." Max promises.

He doesn't relay the more murderous thoughts in his head, it will only scare the little. He does need to know that he's loved and that Max and Daniel will go to hell and back to keep him out of harms way.

"What if we turned on Mickey? Have a quiet day in bed. I think everyone needs it." Daniel suggests.

"Yes please." Isack says around his pacifier.

Daniel kisses his head and moves Isack so he is cradled between both of them. Daniel turns the show on, settling back down.
Isack half pays attention to the show, mostly focused on tracing the outlines of the tattoos on Daniel's arm. It tickles a bit but Daniel doesn't stop him, especially not when the statement from the media teams comes through.
He and Max both read it, agreeing that it's acceptable to go out.

"We love you so much, cricket." Daniel coos.

Isack coos back, finding a new tattoo to run his fingers along lightly and now Daniel starts considering getting one for the little.

"Ok, it's going out." Max says.

"Ok," Daniel breaths.

They both hug Isack a little tighter, letting the teams take care of this. If they decide to make a comment later thats their choice, right now it's not even on their minds, only Isack and his well being are.

Chapter Text

Oscar doesn't always like working out, it's hard, he gets sweaty, sometime he would just so much rather be having a bottle curled up in Marks lap, or doing literally anything else. But unfortunately there are days where he's put in a pull-up and sent off to the care of his trainer, Kim. Oscar whines a lot about it this morning having woken up so deep in headspace that coming up felt like it was impossible. It took a lot of coaxing to pull him out, and it wasn't completely there. He still felt like one tiny thing could send him spiralling back down.

"I'll have him back in a couple hours." Kim says to Mark.

"Take your time." Mark responds.

Oscar whines, stomping his feet. Mark strangles a coo in his throat, treating Oscar like he's little is a guaranty that he goes back down.

"Have a good time, Osc." Mark says instead.

Another whine comes from Oscar's throat.

"We're going to have a great time. See you later." Kim says, then drags Oscar along with him.

He's not going to push too hard, just enough to get Oscar back in the work mentality. For now he lets Oscar be as quiet as he wants, giving him a bit of mental space before starting to push.
They walk into the quiet gym, heading for the locker room to put their stuff down.

"So I was thinking we do a little bit of cardio, we can do the bike if you want, then a bit of weight. It doesn't have to be anything too heavy today." Kim says.

"Sure, sounds good." Oscar agrees.

Kim nods and Oscar follows him out. It's quiet this morning, hardly anyone around except one or two people who are too focused on themselves to notice anyone else.

"Alright, start easy." Kim says, motioning to the bike.

Oscar sighs quietly, pushing his headspace way and getting on. Biking isn't even his worst form of cardio, he just doesn't want to be out of the house. But Oscar listens to his trainer, setting his water bottle down and getting on the bike. Normally they'd do about an hour of this but today Kim lets him be with 30 minutes. He's not trying to make Oscar want to curl up from workout exhaustion, just enough for him to feel it later.
Oscar thought this might help pull him properly up out of the cusp of his headspace, but it really hasn't, now he's just tired and trying not to be little, which is making the need greater.

"Can we be done now?" Oscar asks, holding back the whine.

"Soon, then we'll do a bit of weights." Kim says.

Oscar makes a throaty whine but keeps going because he knows he has to. Another ten minutes of this and Kim lets him off, and Oscar wastes no time listening. He's hopeful they are done now, but then Kimi leads him over to the weights.

"Nothing too heavy." He says, setting up for Oscar.

He then explains the set, then explains it again, and a third time. He finally has to show Oscar what he means for him to understand.

"Get it now?" Kim asks.

"Yeah... yeah I got it." Oscar nods.

Kim nods back and Oscar takes his place. He copies what Kim showed him but the weights feel heavier than normal in his hands and he is a bit clumsier. He's having a hard time maintaining his grip on the weight.

"Oh, motherfucker!" Oscar yelps as he drops the weight, his wrist bending back farther than it should.

"Are you ok?!" Kim asks, jumping up from where he stood.  

"Want daddy!" Oscar cries.

So thats then end of the session. Kim takes Oscar back to the locker room and grabs his bag, his hand doesn't look too bad, no swelling or bruising. Oscar will let Mark know, he's sure so he just gets Oscar home to him, holding most of his body weight as the boy regresses.
He fishes Oscar's keys out of his pocket and lets them in.

"What happened, I wasn't expecting you back for another hour?" Mark asks, quickly coming out of the kitchen.

"Just not his day, he needs his daddy."

—

Oscar decided that his wrist wasn't that swollen, and didn't hurt that badly, so he doesn't bother with telling Mark. He has enough range in motion to get by so it doesn't really matter, right? He's going to find out he supposes as they arrive on track for qualifying Saturday. Yesterday wasn't too terrible but it did hurt a little bit. His wrist has started to swell but it's not too noticeable, and you know, it only hurts when it moves, so he will just try not to move it, easy.

"Are you going to hang out with Lando?" Mark asks between sessions.

"Yeah, I'm hungry." Oscar nods, his sore hand resting in his pocket.

"Ok, come find me if you need something, I'll be around." Mark says.

Oscar nods and ducks out to find his teammate.

"Osc!" Lando calls for him as he steps out into the common area.

Oscar nods in acknowledgment, walking over to the Brit. He has lunch for both of them already so Oscar just slides into his seat, picking up the fork with his non hurt, non dominant hand. Lando notes this as odd, watching his teammate for a minute with confusion.

"You alright, Osco?" He asks.

"Yeah, why?" Oscar asks, fighting with his fork.

"You don't normally eat with your left hand." Lando remarks.

Oscar doesn't know what to say to that so he just shrugs, continuing to fight with the fork and his shaky, untrained hand. Lando can't watch it anymore and pulls Oscar plate closer to him.

"Dude!" Oscar exclaims.

Lando doesn't say anything but takes his fork and stabs the chicken, then bringing it to Oscar mouth. Oscar burns with shame but lets Lando feed him regardless, fully aware his teammate is too stubborn to give up.

"Thanks." Oscar mumbles when his plate is clear.

"Any time." Lando chirps.

Oscar blushes deep red and stares at the table with great interest because it's better than facing Lando. The Brit knows Oscar has a hard time sometimes so he talks about literally anything else to get Oscar's mind off it. Then they get called away for qualifying.

—

Oscar starts to hope he gets knocked out of Q1 halfway through, his wrist burning with pain as he takes in the force of rotating the car. He whimpers quietly, something he's sure Tom can hear but he just doesn't care.

"Where are we Tom?" Oscar asks.

"Currently P1, Oscar. P1." Tom, his lovely engineer, responds.

Fucking fantastic. Would the team be mad if he just sent it into the wall? Most likely when they find out it was intentional.

"Where's Lando?" He decides to asks.

"Currently Lando is P3." Tom reports back. "Two minutes left for a flier." He adds.

Oscar knows the team well enough to know they are telling him to do it instead of asking. So as he approaches the time marker, he pushes on the gas, his speed ticking up along with the pain in his wrist.
He doesn't complain, even as much as he wants to, just tries to pull the sectors together in a neat little bow. His first and second sectors are both purple but the time just gets away from him in the final sector and he finds very little improvement. The checker flag is waved though, he knows he's into Q2 and he slams the wheel with his bad hand, causing him to yelp as he remembers the injury. He peels back into the pits, thankful when the mechanics take over and he rubs his now very sore wrist.

"Are you alright?" Tom asks over the radio.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Oscar says.

He knows it's not the truth though, and he knows the only reason he's still big is because of the adrenaline coursing through his body. Another thing he knows all too well is that he is a truly awful liar. If he's not confident in what he's saying, neither is anyone else so Tom probably thinks he's being a moron even trying to lie.

"Take a breather. I'll let you know when it's time to go again." Tom says.

Oscar hums in reply and it's left at that. He can hear Tom cover his mic and the faint sounds of words but can't make anything else out. Maybe he should just rest his eyes for a second, that might help.

—

It's not long after he shuts his eyes he's being talked to over the radio, his engineer telling him to get going to set a time. Oscar sighs but listens, pulling into the fast lane as soon as he's given the go ahead.
Lando tops him in the time in Q2 but by very marginal times, their lap times nearly identical. The team is confident and they pull back in with a couple minutes left in the session. Sure enough they make it comfortably through, and Oscar's  hand feels so big and ready to fall off. He doesn't want to drive again, can't, he can hardly touch the steering wheel without pain. Tears slip down his cheeks, absorbing into the padding of his helmet.
But alas he's sent out for the final part of qualifying. Then he gets pole, then comes media and by the time all is said and done Oscar is ready to scream.

"Oscar!" Zak celebrates as he sees him come in.

Lando slotted himself in P3, split by Max in the last seconds.

"Where's da— Mark." Oscar corrects himself.

"Waiting for you upstairs." Zak says.

Oscar nods and heads in that direction. Zak gives him a quizzical look as he leaves, sharing it with Lando but not stopping him.
Oscar pushes the door open, collapsing into Mark as soon as he's close enough, sobbing.

"Koala bear, whats the matter?" Mark asks. "You had a great drive."

"It hurts daddy! Hurts so bad!" Oscar sobs.

"What hurts baby, can you show me?" Mark asks, leading Oscar to the couch.

Oscar very delicately gives Mark his gloved hand. With the fabric it doesn't look too bad but Oscar's pained wails as he pulls it off tell a different story.

"I'm sorry, daddy's sorry." Mark apologizes.

But he's shocked by the sight of Oscar's wrist. It's purple, and incredibly swollen. Mark taps Oscar's finger tips and he screams.

"Ok, daddy's sorry." Mark says, pulling Oscar into his lap. "When did you do that?"

"T-training." Oscar chokes out.

A fucking week ago, and Oscar didnt bother to tell him.

"Koala bear, you need to tell daddy these things, we could have made it feel better so you didn't get here." Mark chastises softly.

"'M sorry! Want to race!" Oscar cries.

Mark sighs and kisses Oscar's head. Of course thats the reason he didn't say anything, he didn't want to be told he has to sit a race out, not while leading the championship, but he's worked himself into such a bad state his chances of not racing tomorrow are greater now then they would have been yesterday.

"Alright, can you let daddy take care of it for now and we'll reconvene in the morning?" Mark asks.

Oscar shudders a breath and nods.
Mark sits him on the couch and grabs what he needs, ice and a wrap. He wraps the ice around Oscar wrist and into his palm, using his thumb to hold things where he needs them while getting the wrap started. Oscar winces at the pressure but the ice feels pretty nice.

"Sorry baby." Mark says.

Oscar whimpers at him, watching him finish up. He clips the wrap up and stops touching.

"I think we should get you changed and get you home, the less you move that the better it will feel, so can daddy do it for you?" Mark asks.

"Yes please.'" Oscar nods.

He needs Mark, and Mark will always be there.

Chapter Text

Gabi felt fine waking up this morning, he was pressed into Fernando chest, he was warm but not too warm, and safe. Even when moving felt like an impossible task when Nando tried to coax him out of bed he didn't feel as bad as he does now. But thats a low bar right now, he's sitting with Nico in their engineering meeting before the race and it's only the teeniest tiniest bit of dizziness, not even something really worth mentioning, he just needs more water. His hands feel a little shaky but it's not bad, pre race tremors is all. He needs to be focused, so he downs his glass and calls it good. Nico gives him a strange look but doesn't comment on it.

"Everybody out." Mattia says when they wrap up.

Gabi pushes himself up out of his chair, closing his eyes as things shake, taking a deep breath to right everything before quickly walking out. He just needs the littlest bit of regression time, something to calm his nerves, but his older headspace, the ones he got good at forcing.
Fernando packed his bag for him, and he reaches his hand inside, rubbing his beloved blanket between two finger. He can't pull it out, that would just invite the trouble of a real headspace, he just needs to know it's there so he can feel better.
He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knows he's being gently shaken awake.

"Gabi. Gabi we have to get ready." The voice of his teammate calls to him.

"Dad?" Gabi asks groggily.

"I should hope not." Nico chuckles.

Gabi deflates into the couch cushions, an odd nagging feeling making itself at home in his chest. Nico smiles sympathetically at him, patting his arm.

"Sorry, Gabriella." He says, hoping to put a smile on the youngers face.

It works, sort of, a small ever so faint smile tugs at his lips but it's there.

"Come on, Fernando will kill me if you are late." Nico says.

Gabi nods and gets up with a small groan, his legs feeling heavy as he swings them over the side of the couch. Nico smiles to him again, pats his shoulder then leaves him to get dressed. The mention of Fernando makes the nagging stronger, hold on to his chest tighter.
He does his best to make it all go away, even as a tiny breath catches on its way out. He's going to be fine, thats what he keeps telling himself as he gets dressed, as he heads to the garage, as he pulls his helmet on, and as he gets in the car. He's 100% totally, perfectly fine.
The plan as he lines up next to Yuki on the grid is to avoid Fernando who has qualified not far ahead of him. Shouldn't be too hard given that he's preoccupied talking to engineers and suiting himself up. All he needs is to stay close to his car and look busy, Fernando always knows when he needs to give Gabi his space. He catches the caregiver looking his way, asses what he needs, and a flash of brighter green disappearing up the pack, the same green he's wearing. Nico. Rat bastard narcing on him to his caregiver just because he willingly took a nap. So rude, whatever.

—

Waiting at the lights Gabi doesn't feel to too awful, he's been nursing some water out of his tank so that should hopefully make him feel better. As the lights start to illuminate he takes one final mouthful of water then hits the gas, pushing himself back in his seat as he accelerates forward, gaining two positions already.

"Nice work, keep pushing." His engineer gives subtle praise over the mic.

He feels that on a day such as today had it not been for adrenaline it would have dropped him. So thank goodness for race nerves, right? Oh this is not going to be fun.

"Thanks." Gabi radios back in, just an acknowledgment that he heard them.

Unfortunately though, as his race wears on things don't keep moving up for him, his driving gets a little sloppy, dragging his car all over the road. He tries to stop it but he's feeling so light headed right now and his vision is tunnelling.

"Umm, guys something is not right." Gabi radios down to the pit wall.

"Whats the problem, how are the tires holding?" His engineer asks.

"The tires are fine, I'm not feeling alright." Gabi says.

"How so?" Jose asks.

"I'm really light headed and my vision is a little wired." Gabi explains how he's feeling.

Then Mattia gets on the radio, not as friendly as his beloved engineer, Jose.

"Are you going to pass out?" He asks.

"I don't think so." Gabriel says, a little caught off guard.

"If you're not going to pass out then you're going to continue racing." The team boss says, leaving no room for argument.

"But I really don't—" Gabi tries to argue.

"You're fine, keep going." Mattia says, a little colder.

"Keep us posted." Jose says.

Gabi whimpers and agrees, trying his best to keep driving but it's hard. He feels so light headed now, the world is spinning in his helmet and cars morph into each other making it impossible to be able to tell where overtake would be available. Then the nausea starts to set in. So radios in again.

"Guys it's getting worse." Gabi pleads.

"Are you passing out?" Mattia asks again, that same stupid question that shouldn't hold so much weight.

"Not yet." Gabi responds.

"Keep going, you're in the points." Mattia says then it's silent.

He goes another few laps before his chest gets tight, painfully tight, and his breathing becomes wheezy, making the lightheaded feeling worse.

"Guys I can hardly see, I need a doctor, now please." Gabi begs, he would get on his knees now if he could.

"Are you passing out?" Mattia sounds irritated.

"I might be!" Gabi exclaims.

"Thats not a yes. There are six laps left, finish the race." He's instructs.

"Please, I need a doctor." Gabi wheezes out.

"Five laps." Mattia says then cuts his radio.

Gabi wasn't even aware that was doable, to cut him off from the pit wall, but as he tries to radio back in it becomes increasingly more apparent that he will have no communication until the race is over.
He hardly makes it to the checkered flag, dipping in and out of the gravel, barely keeping a tire on track over the chicane, all around it's messy. That flag is the best thing he's seen all day, P10 to end. He pulls up and parks where he's told, his radio coming back on and he collapses back in his car.
His breathing is atrocious, gasps and wheezes the best he can get, and it hurts so bad.

"Jose... can I... have... the doctor now..?" Gabi pants.

"Yes, oh my god, I'll come get you and we'll go together." His engineer says.

Gabi tries to breathe while he waits, fiddling with the buckles holding him in the car until he sees his engineer running towards him, followed by Nico.

"Jesus, ok. We're going to get you out of there, don't worry." Jose says, already reaching in to unbuckle him.

"Nico go get Fernando." The engineer says.

The German nods and runs in the direction of the media pen while Jose pulls Gabi out go the car. His breathing is laboured, and when he tries to set the little on his feet his knees buckle.

"Holy shit, ok. Come on, you need help." Jose helps Gabi into the garage right to the medbay.

The doctor they have is new, a kind woman with greying hair. She looks up from her laptop, takes a very quick scan of Gabi and gets up.

"Come, come, he does not look good." She gestures.

Jose helps Gabi over, lying him down on the bed as he gasps for air again. The doctor whose name both men are blanking on grabs an inhaler to start so Gabi can breathe.

"Ok, ready, breathe in." She instructs.

Gabi listens, taking the air into his lungs, feeling a little better.

"Good job, again. Breathe in." And again Gabi listens.

They repeat until he's breathing normally on his own, completely collapsed into the bed.
The doctor starts to poke when they hear the angry sounds of people not far away in the garage. It takes Gabi a second, regressing fast and trying to push hands away from his body as any little does, but he recognizes that voice. That is the very, very angry voice of his daddy yelling at someone.

"Daddy." Gabi calls out pitifully.

"He'll be here soon bud, just hold my hand, ok?" Jose says.

Gabi weakly squeezes his hand while he's looked at.

"You're being very brave. I'm almost done." The doctor says.

Just as she finishes up the door opens and Fernando walks in.

"Daddy." Gabi reaches for Fernando.

"Oh, my love. Are you ok?" Fernando asks.

Gabi whimpers and tucks himself up and away in his caregivers chest, so he turns his attention to the doctor.

"It sounds like a mild infection and maybe a 24 hour bug of some sort mixing together. He shouldn't have waited so long to come in." She says.

"That won't be an issue anymore. But what can we do about this?" Fernando asks.

"I can prescribe antibiotics that should clear his lungs and as for the rest of it, give in time and it will flush itself out." She explains.

Fernando nods and returns his focus to his little who has started to cry.

"Hey, hey, whats the trouble?" Fernando asks softly.

"T-tried daddy. Didn't want to keep going." Gabi cries softly.

"I know baby, daddy knows. You're not in trouble at all." Fernando promises, wiping his eyes.

"'M sorry." Gabi cries though, hiding away again.

"I think you're not feeling well, and you're tired, and we should get you to bed. No one is mad, snuggle bug, we just want you to feel better." Fernando says.

"Don't need bedtime." Gabi whines.

This is normally him screaming and Fernando rocking him until he gives up, but given how it's quiet whines really goes to show just how rotten he feels.

"Then we'll rest our eyes." Fernando says.

He carefully gathers Gabi up in his arms, taking the meds the doctor gives him and leaving to collect their things. Mattia looks like a scolded puppy with its tail between its legs, Fernando absolutely ripped into him for what he forced Gabi to do and the Spaniard has absolutely no regrets. He needed to hear it and he'd do it again. And as they pass Fernando gives him a nasty look, making sure he continues to feel bad.

"Let's get you comfy." Fernando decides to start before getting Gabi home.

"Didn't feel bad earlier, promise." Gabi says, his eyes already shutting.

"I believe you, darling. I promise you're not in trouble." Nando says.

Gabi cries silent tears though as he gets changed, a mix of feeling bad physically, feeling bad emotionally, and being so so tired.

"Daddy home please." Gabi begs.

"Yup, we're going now." Fernando nods, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

He lifts Gabi off the couch and takes him out to the car, buckling him into his car seat which comes with no whining, going to show how terrible he feels yet again. Fernando tucks his purple blanket around him, kisses his head then shuts the door.
From the rear view mirror he can see the dried tear tracks on the littles face as his eyes shut and his heart breaks. He swears he's going to kick Mattias teeth in, what type of team principal keeps their sick driver on track for an entire race even after they ask for medical help? Not a good one. Fernando breathes and gets Gabi home, the little asleep before they even reach the hotel, clearly exhausted. No matter, he will still get all the cuddles his heart desires because he absolutely deserves them after today.

Chapter Text

Kimis rookie season has been frustrating mostly. His Canada podium was amazing, he was walking on cloud nine for days following that, and he's had some really solid points finishes, notably Australia durning the rookie take down, he survived in P4 on debut. But it feels like more often than not something goes wrong for him. Engine failures no points, crashes, penalties. It feels like the list goes on and on. George and Carmen have been so good with him, doing anything to make him feel better, and he loves them for it, but sometimes it's not enough. Nothing is enough sometimes and he just has to hurt to be able to move on. That's what today is starting to look like.

—

Kimi qualified well, lining up P5 next to Max on the grid, and was very proud, and impressed he managed to out qualify him. Max congratulated him for it after, impressed himself by the form of this years crop of rookies.
Max walked him back to George and Carmen at Mercedes before going to join Daniel and Isack at VCARB so they could also go home. Kimi essentially forced George to scoop him up by collapsing all his weight into the caregiver and refusing to move. The only way they were getting him anywhere is if he didn't have to go on his own two feet. They got him changed and back to the hotel where he had his bottle and promptly fell asleep.
Now they are here, race ready and on track. They've made it to the final half hour before lights are out. Kimi, George, and Max have convened somewhere in the middle but not in the way, qualifying one right after another.

"You feeling alright, kiddo." Max asks, watching Kimi tap his foot on the asphalt.

"Yeah, just louder than normal." Kimi comments.

"The end of the season usually feels louder. Everyone is all excited for the tighter fights." George says.

"Must be it." Kimi nods.

"It will be alright, just focus on Bono, and yourself and you'll be just fine. Don't let this rattle you, you're a good driver." Max tells him.

Kimi smiles and looks at his feet. "Thanks."

Max pats him on the shoulder then gets called over by his engineer.

"I'll see you guys later, good luck." Max says then jogs off.

"Go talk to Bono, you have ten minutes. You just need to calm yourself a little bit." George says.

"Ok, thanks." Kimi nods.

Any advice is good advice when it comes from a fellow driver is how Kimi sees it.

"Go find Carmen when you're done, I'll meet you two after." George says.

He would be more affectionate, a small kiss to the forehead like Kimi likes but he doesn't dare risk it with so many people and cameras around. Things like that go viral in very short amounts of time.
Kimi nods at him, silently telling him he will go find her.

"Good, I love you, and I'll see you after." George gives him a very quick side hug and leaves him to find Bono.

They talk for the final few minutes they have before Kimi gets in the car and Bono makes his way back to his post in the garage. He's calmer, the noise doesn't feel so loud now that he's in the cock pit, just the sounds of the engine filling his head.
Then the lights go out and he hits the gas, pulling away from Max and George behind him, overtaking a Williams and a Ferrari before the first corner as well. Of course the fray of traffic is a challenge to navigate, but he makes it out unscathed with another position gained. This is great, he just has to keep going like this. He's starting to pull away from the pack now with the only other two people in front of him, both McLaren drivers. He never thought he would be running away with the McLarens in his rookie season yet here he is, building a sizeable gap to Lewis in P4 already.
And for the next twenty some odd laps, Kimi builds the gap, finding himself pretty well alone on track. Lando and Oscar are far enough ahead that he can't see them and Bono told him that he had 8 seconds on P4 who is now Max.

"Head down, keep going. Lando is 10 seconds up, you can close that." Bono encouraged.

"Copy." Kimi responds and starts to push harder.

Slowly but surely that gap starts to close, going from ten seconds down to eight, then six, and finally four. He can see them now, but something isn't right.

"Kimi we are noticing some damage to the floor, it's looking unsafe. Box to retire, box to retire." Bono says.

"It's fine, the car is still driving." Kimi insists.

He can't retire, he's doing too well for it to end like this.

"Kimi, you have significant damage, it's no longer safe to continue." Bono says.

"Just give me softs and I can finish!" Kimi exclaims, getting agitated.

Another podium is in his sight, he won't let it end like this.

"Box box." Bono says.

Kimi peels back into the pit, hoping they will listen to him and bolt on a pair of softs and let him finish. Instead he gets jacked up and rolled back into the garage.

"No!" Kimi exclaims, hitting his steering wheel. "We were so close!"

"Sorry Kimi, we'll get it right next time." Bono apologizes as Kimi pulls himself out of the car.

In a small fit of rage Kimi pulls his helmet off and slams it on the counter, trying to hide the tears burning behind his eyes before storming off.
Bono sighs, knowing Kimi will come back apologizing as soon as he's calm, but not loving the way he got out.

"So fucking stupid." Kimi mutters, aggressively wiping his eyes on his way to his room.

Carmen, who has been watching from his room to be there when she needs him stands up as the door opens, hitting the wall and bouncing back to hit Kimi.

"Fucking hell!"

"Hey angel, I'm so sorry it ended like that." Carmen says softly, trying to diffuse the forming anger in her little.

"So stupid!" Kimi cries, slamming the door.

"Come on, Kimi, theres nothing you could have done. It wasn't safe for you anymore." Carmen says.

But Kimi has very quickly worked himself up now, crumpling to the floor as loud sobs rack his body. Carmen kneels on the floor with him, taking him into her arms to try and console him. He's beyond upset though, his race was ruined, a race with a podium nearly guaranteed by the time he was called in. He starts to fight her, pushing against her chest and sobbing desperately. She can feel he's slipping, he will feel so much better once he does, Carmen just has to get him there.

"Shh, shh, it's alright. I know you're upset baby, I'm so sorry." Carmen coos, trying to send him down.

"No! No! No!" Kimi shrieks, banging against her chest to be let out.

"Andrea, we don't hit." Carmen says, firmly but not unkindly.

"Nooo!" Kimi howls, trying to free his hands as they are restrained against her chest.

He's regressing hard now, she can see it and she can feel it. She also knows if she didn't scoop him up when she did the possibility of him hurting himself doing something stupid in his rage or causing another stress drop were great.
He's can't free his hands from her grasp, caught at the wrists to her chest.

"Out!" He wails, pulling again.

"Are you going to be gentle?" She asks.

"'M sorry! Please!" Kimi begs, pulling again.

She lets him go, his hands dropping to hold onto her shirt as he continues to sob. Thats better, he can cry but he can't hit.

"I know, I'm sorry." Carmen whispers.

"Stupid!" Kimi sobs.

"Angel, these things happen. It's not your fault." Carmen says.

Kimi sobs, starting to fight her again as he works himself up even higher.

"Hey, hey now, we're being gentle right." Carmen says.

"Hate you!" Kimi sobs.

And Carmen will be honest, that hurt. She knows Kimi is upset and doesn't mean it but to hear it said rips her heart in half. Then he starts shoving her again, probably harder than he realizes. He's working himself way up.

"Kimi, I know you're upset, but if you keep acting like this I will still put you in a time out." Carmen says.

Kimi all but screams at the mention. He hated the timeout when he got it from George, and he will not like it any better now, though he knows that back talk adds time.

"Please don't!" Kimi begs.

"Then watch your hands." Carmen says.

Kimi sobs but tucks his hands up between their chests, actually finding some strange amount of comfort in it. He's still crying, still beyond upset but more grounded at least.

"'M sorry!" He cries to her.

"All is forgiven, love, mamas not mad." She says.

"D-don't hate you." Kimi adds as he calms down.

"I know you don't." Carmen says.

"Love mama."

"I love you too, baby boy. Mama loves you so very much." Carmen coos.

Kimi is much calmer, tears are still flowing freely, he's still upset, but it's better.

"Should we get you cleaned up?" She asks.

She felt Kimi have an accident five minutes ago, but he was way too in his own head to even notice it. Now that it's been brought to his attention he starts whining loudly.

"Yucky mama!" He cries.

"Ok, don't worry, mamas got it." She promises.

She hopes Kimi doesn't see how his accident got on her, that would send him into a full blown tantrum no one needs. She'll get him comfy and wrapped in a blanket then she can change, he'll never have to know.

"You're so good, mamas going to take care of everything." Carmen coos while she strips Kimi.

He shivers as the cool air hits his overheated body. So add overstimulation to his list of reason to have thrown a small tantrum.

"Once dada is back we'll get you home, and you can cuddle with us tonight." She adds.

That sounds nice, he could use all the cuddles he can get.
As soon as the diaper is taped around his hips, Carmen looks up to his face, cooing softly. Tears are running down towards his ears and getting mixed with the sweat in his curls. She reaches up and wipes away what she can, trying to make this better. Unfortunately this is just going to be one of those times it has to hurt, as much as she hates it.
She sighs softly and gets him dressed, then finally grabbing his blanket from his bag and wrapping him tight.

"Good boy, just give me a minute and we'll snuggle all you want, mama just has to do something very quickly." She says, setting Kimi up on the couch.

She is infinitely grateful she packed spare clothes for herself, changing out of her wet pants and slightly wet shirt, just from how she had Kimi in her lap. As soon as she's dressed, simple jeans and a nice enough shirt, she scoops Kimi back up into her arms.
Just as she settles them back onto the couch, a pacifier now tucked in Kimis mount along with Fiffi in his arms, George pokes his head in. 

"How's he doing?" Have asks.

"Not great. This one is going to hurt." Carmen responds.

Kimi flicks his eyes up to George, tears threatening to spill and add to the growing collection of track on his red face.

"Oh sweetheart. It's been rough on you hasn't it." George coos.

A strange, broken noise falls out of Kimi behind his pacifier, something he can't help. A hand reaches up for George, requesting more cuddles than he's already getting, and of course George obliges. They will all ride out this hurt together.

Chapter Text

For once something happens outside of the routine in the Norris household. Franco is awake first. Lando is always up first to get Franco fed and start on their routine for the day. Thats just how it works for them, Lando gets up, makes breakfast then gets Franco. This morning though when Landos alarm went off he tried to get up and get moving, tried so hard to get out of bed. But as soon as he sat up he was met with the worst pain in his head and neck he has ever felt in his entire life. His shoulders were knotted almost up to his ears and the pain made him want to be sick. He doesn't remember what he did to get himself cranked, but he has no idea how he's supposed to get up and be a proper caregiver. Maybe thirty more minutes will help, they can be a bit off on their schedule, that's fine. Lando truly just can't get up yet.
So he shuts his alarm off and goes back to sleep, praying this will be gone when he wakes up again.

—

Franco pops up out of bed alone, which he instantly clocks as strange. Daddy always comes to get him in the morning with a forehead kiss and a cuddle. Maybe he's still cooking, it happens sometimes that he's just not quite done before Franco is up. So he swings himself out of bed and trots down the hall. But there are no smells of breakfast, no sounds of his daddy moving around. Confused, he slides into the kitchen and frowns. Lando isn't here, nothing is cooking, nothing is even out. The sippy cup of water he had the night before still sitting on the counter.

"Daddy?" Franco asks, going to check the living room.

He's still not there. Now he's starting to worry.

"Daddy!" Franco calls out, running down the hall to Landos room.

There in bed is his daddy, still sleeping, a pain expression on his face.

"Daddy?" Franco asks, crawling onto the bed and shaking his daddy.

"Huh? Franco?" Lando asks, cracking an eye and wincing.

"Daddy, ok?" Franco asks.

He puts and hand to Landos forehead like Lando does to him when he's not feeling well. Lando smiles weakly at this.

"I'm fine, sunshine. Let's get up." Lando croaks out.

Lando nearly pukes sitting up but he swallows it down, getting up with Franco.

"Alright, have a seat I'll get you something." Lando says.

Franco nods and slides into his chair, swinging his feet while Lando finds him something.
He ends up really phoning it in, simple bread and butter because he can't stand for that much longer.

"Thanks daddy." Franco smiles regardless.

"You're welcome baby." Lando says quietly.

He doesn't make anything for himself, can't stomach it, instead drops into this chair and puts his head in his hands. Franco looks at him quizzically as he keeps eating.

"Go play daddy?" Franco asks.

"Yes, sunshine, you can go play. I'll meet you there in a minute." Lando nods, wincing again.

Franco runs off to the living room, already pulling out his toys while Lando clears the table. With shaking hands he fills Franco's sippy cup and takes it to the living room. The little has pulled out his hot wheels and Lego, building himself a track to race on. Lando doesn't disturb him, instead lying down on the couch and covering his eyes from the light, wincing again at moving his arm. He manages to get semi comfortable and dozed off.

—

Franco looks up from his toys a half hour later, about to ask his daddy for something when he sees he's asleep. Now Franco is properly worried, daddy is never like this. He catches sight of Landos phone in his pocket and does the only thing he can think to do; pulls it out, opens it up and calls uncle Max.
It rings three times before the man picks up.

"Hey mate, what's up?" The familiar British voice comes down the line.

"Uncle Max, daddy needs help." Franco says.

"Franco? Whats going on buddy? Where's your daddy?" He asks.

"Sleeping on the couch, was sleeping when I got up." Franco explains the best he can.

"Ok, are you guys home?" Max asks.

"Yeah." Franco nods though Max can't see it.

"Ok, I'll be there soon bud, just stay on the line while you wait, ok?" Max instructs.

"Wanna play." Franco whines softly.

"Do you know how to put me on speaker?" Max asks, trying to make sure he doesn't drop the call.

"Yeah." Franco nods again.

"Ok, put me on speaker and you can keep playing." Max says.

"'Kay." Franco says, putting it on speaker.

"I'll be there soon, just hang tight."

—

Max pushes his spare key into the lock of Landos apartment and pushes the door open. He finally hangs up the phone, following the sounds of a quiet playing little to the living room where he also finds his best friend since childhood asleep on the couch. He will deal with that in a minute.

"Hey buddy, have you had something to eat?" Max asks, crouching in front of Franco.

"Uh-huh, daddy made toast." Franco nods.

"Good, how about your pull-up? Do you need a new one?" Max asks next.

Franco nods. "Didn't want to wake daddy."

Franco is such a caring little sometimes, and Max smiles softly to him.

"Then you did the right thing calling me." Max says. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and dressed."

"What about daddy?" Franco asks, hesitant to move.

"Let me worry about him, ok buddy?" Max says.

Franco nods and takes Max's hand, following with him down the hall where Max lets them into his room. Max rifles through drawers, pulling out a new pull-up and day clothes.
Franco is quite comfortable around Max now, and has no issue lying back while Max cleans him up and pulls a new pull-up on him. He then lifts his arms up before Max can asks him and a short sleeve shirt is pulled over his head, a soft teal with a little star fish, then finally matching shorts.

"Ok, do you want to keep playing?" Max asks.

"Yeah!" Franco bounces on his feet.

"Alright, let's go." Max says, letting Franco out.

Franco reclaims his place on the floor with his cars, and now it's Landos turn.

"Hey buddy," Max says softly.

"Franco..?" Lando asks.

"No, it's just me." Max says.

"What are you..." Lando can't even finish the question.

"I'm here to help. Don't worry about Franco, I've got him but I think you should go to bed." Max says.

"I'm fine, I can take care of him." Lando tries to sound convincing.

"Buddy, you're hardly even whispering. You need sleep, I've got him." Max says.

"Are you sure?" Lando asks, tears in his eyes at the pain he's feeling that has spread to his upper back.

"I'm positive. Go lay down, I'll get you some pain killers and meet you there." Max says.

Lando gives the faintest of nods and gets up, slowly heading towards his room.

"Daddy ok?" Franco asks.

"He will be, you're just going to hang out with me today." Max says, ruffling his hair.

Franco nods, watching down the hall for a second before returning to his game.

Max gets up and grabs the painkillers he promised and some water, as well as some ice and taking them to Lando. He doesn't linger long, just enough time for him to see Lando take the painkillers and get him comfortable with some ice.

"Have a nap, I'll check on you in a bit but call if you need anything." Max says quietly.

"Thank you for coming." Lando croaks out.

"Anything for you two." Max smiles then leaves him to sleep.

"Maxie, come play!" Franco calls for him.

"I'm coming buddy." Max smiles, jogging over to join him.

"Daddy ok?" Franco asks, pausing before giving Max his car.

"He's ok, don't you worry." Max reassures him.

Franco nods, mostly satisfied and hands Max's the car. A green Lamborghini, one Lando got him for Christmas. Max smiles and sits, pulling Franco into his lap. This is not the first time he's babysat and it won't be the last, and in that time he's learned that Franco likes to be held. The little wiggles a bit, getting himself comfortable before explains the game he's playing to Max.
The Brit nods along with what he's being told, following Franco's very clear instructions so he doesn't get upset. Lando may be hurting today but he would still kick Max's ass for upsetting his little.

"Maxie, daddy scared me." Franco says after a while.

"Oh buddy, I'm sure he didn't mean to." Max sighs softly, hugging the poor boy close.

"Didn't know what to do, so called you." Franco says, tears springing to his eyes.

"You did the right thing, for you and for your daddy." Max praises. "We are both very proud of you."

"Thought daddy was dead." Franco says, choking up and starting to let some tears slip.

"Oh buddy, thats terrible." Max coos, hugging the little close.

"So scared Maxie!" Franco cries, holding onto his shirt.

Max holds him and starts to rock, now worried about both the people that live in this house. Franco doesn't get upset like this often from what he's seen, so clearly he was very rattled by his morning. It's not Landos fault, these things happen sometimes, he only wishes he was called sooner.
He checks his watch, realizing it may be in everyone's best interest if Franco has a nap, and hopefully will feel a bit better when he wakes up.

"Why don't we go lay down for a bit, you'll feel better with a bit of sleep buddy." Max suggests.

Franco nods, not caring as long as Max doesn't let him go. But as he gets up and moves down the hall, all Franco wants is to go curl up in bed with his daddy.

"Please." Franco begs quietly as they pass, trying to reach for the door.

"You two both need some sleep. We'll see him a little later." Max says softly.

"No, no! Daddy!" Franco cries for him.

"Max!" Lando calls through the door.

"Good lord." Max mutters.

He creaks the door open to Landos room, bouncing Franco to try and help him calm down.

"You alright?" He asks his bedridden friend.

"Yeah, just come in. It wouldn't be the first time we shared a bed." Lando says.

"Are you sure?" Max asks.

"Yeah, it's fine." Lando says.

"Ok." Max nods.

He steps completely into the dark room and gently kicks the door shut.

"Daddy." Franco reaches for Lando.

"Hi sunshine." Lando smiles weakly.

He lifts an arm as high as his body will allow and as soon as Max sets Franco down, the little crawls under it. Max also slides up on the bed, keeping watch. Franco is already starting to fall asleep, his daily cuddles from Lando are long overdue.

"How are you feeling?" Max asks quietly.

"A little better." Lando responds. "I don't know what happened."

"You probably tweaked yourself in the car and didn't realize it." Max guesses.

"Maybe, I'll call John, he can figure it out." Lando says, then his eyes shift down to Franco.

"Has he been alright?" Lando asks.

"Yeah, worried about you though. You scared him a bit." Max says.

"Fuck. I didn't mean to." Lando sighs.

"I know, he called me and everyone's ok now." Max says.

"Daddy ok?" Franco asks, half way to sleep.

"I'm ok, sunshine. I'm sorry I scared you." Lando says.

"Was worried." Franco says.

Lando hums and rolls over, hugging him to his chest. Max watches fondly as Franco curls himself right up, like they fit together like a perfect puzzle.

"Thank you for helping us." Lando whispers to Max.

"You know I would do anything for you two." Max whispers back.

Lando hums just before falling asleep again under the watchful eye of his best friend with his little tucked close where he belongs.

Chapter Text

Ollie has seen scary crashes before, had a few that landed him in with a doctor and a few that regressed him, but nothing particularly traumatizing. Carlos and Charles can retire peacefully knowing that Ollie has never had a scare like that, that fear of being trapped in the cockpit entirely dependant on someone else coming to your aid. It's probably the most horrifying feeling in the world that thankfully not all of them know. Charles knows some former drivers who still have nightmares about those life threatening crashes, and he shudders even thinking about it. Sometimes it scares him and he holds Ollie just a little closer, trying to protect him from the scary reality of their line of work.
Carlos isn't much better, he's been known to rock Ollie in a rocking chair in the middle of the night because he just needed to feel like they had a normal family. He doesn't want to believe something so horrifying could happen to something so precious, something that just wants to be snuggled and held. So he snuggles and he holds and he pretends at odd hours of the night that their reality isn't so.
Don't get them wrong, they love racing with everything they have, it's their passion, it's their dream, but so is Ollie, and they just have to hold on.

—

This morning as they walk into the paddock, Ollie is big and in front of them, Charles gets a sinking feeling in his gut. It's not something he can explain, but there is a pit of dread that makes it self at home in his stomach. And say what you will, you don't live through everything he has without getting very good, very reliable gut feelings. This one he just hasn't quite placed yet.

"Are you ok?" Carlos asks, noticing the shift in his partner.

"Something is wrong, I just don't know what." Charles responds, eyes fixated on Ollie.

Once upon a time, before they started dating, before Ollie, Carlos would have questioned him, wouldn't have believed him, but he's been right too many times.

"Ollie!" Carlos calls for their little up ahead.

The Brit whips around at the call of his name and with a confused look comes over.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"Will you text us after your meeting, please, just so we know whats going on?" Carlos requests.

"Sure." Ollie nods.

He usually texts anyway, little check ins throughout the day for everyone's sake.

"Thanks sweetie." Charles smiles, kissing his head softly and letting him go again.

"Better?" Carlos asks.

"A little bit." Charles nods.

Carlos smiles and kisses him softly, but leaves him after as they have arrived at his own hospitality. This leaves Charles to finish his journey up to Ferrari to go eat and take his mind of everything.

—

Ollie texts their family group chat once he's out of his strategy meeting and getting ready to drive. It makes Charles feel a little bit better to know that Ollie is alright but it doesn't get rid of the dread he's feeling.
He can't focus on it, he has to focus on driving. So he breathes, practices the exercises his trainer taught him before he even made it to Formula 1, just after Jules and his father passed, when he was in the thick of it. Then the lights go out and adrenaline takes over, so the worry ebbs away.
Ollie has a great start off the line, having qualified P16 and gaining three positions before turn two already. The pack is starting to split, both McLarens have pulled away for their own fight, Oscar has disappeared up the road again with Lando trying to keep the gap down. The top ten are slowly but surely building gaps between them all. Ollie fights his way to be part of the disappearing group, managing to bump Carlos down to P11 to take his spot in the top ten.

"Ciao." Ollie chuckles to himself.

"Nice one, keep going." His engineer chuckles with him.

Ollie likes his engineer, he's a nice guy, very encouraging with him. So he has no problem listening to any instructs that come his way. It's maybe part of the reason he currently finds himself in P6 behind Kimi.
The race is over half way done now, mostly everyone has pitted for new tires and as far as chaos has been, there hasn't been anything much to report. The biggest thing so far was Pierre doing a 360 spin before rejoining the race, causing a momentary yellow flag. Really nothing all that exciting, until Yuki peels out of the pits on a new set of tires, right behind Ollie. The Japanese driver gets maybe a bit too ambitious while trying to regain track position and coming into the corner clips Ollie's rear tire, sending him skidding into the gravel. This wouldn't be so terrible except he gets caught in a pre-formed rut, which flips the car. Every time it hits the ground he bounces again, flipping again and again before slamming into the wall upside down.

"Ollie? Ollie are you ok?" His engineer tries to get him to respond.

Unfortunately the crash and the fact that the spin has regressed him so fast that it's taking a minute for the situation to catch up and for words to make sense again.

"Ollie, if you can hear me just press your radio button." Ronan says.

Ollie can hear him, and he wants to tell him that but in his state of mind he can't figure what button he needs to press. Instead he starts to sob, in pain, and in fear. He's trapped in the car, he's little, he's hurting, he wants his daddies.

"Daddy! Papa!" He wails from inside the cockpit.

Carlos is the first to pass the crash sight and he pulls up and parks it without question. The marshals are already there, trying to get the crane attached. Even over the sound of the fans, and the 18 other cars still on track he can hear Ollie screaming for himself and Charles from inside the car. He must have regressed on impact.
Carlos stumbles his way through the uneven gravel to try and get to Ollie as Charles parks up.
So this was the ominous feeling from this morning.

"Papa!" Ollie wails.

"I'm coming sweetie!" Carlos calls over the noise.

"Sorry, we can't have anyone else here." One of the marshals stops him.

"Thats my baby!" Carlos exclaims.

"Sorry, you have to stay here."

Carlos is really starting to not like the marshals. They did this to Lando, and now he's on the receiving end of it. Before he can argue Charles sprints past them both to the wreck.
Ollie is wailing, almost to the point of making himself sick. The marshals are trying to grab the car while Charles drops to his knees, grabs the halo and yanks. He knows rationally it's not going to do anything but he needs to try.

"Come on, come on!" He cries to himself while yanking the halo.

"Daddy!" Ollie wails.

"Daddy's here baby, I'm right here." Charles says.

If he can do nothing else he reaches in and touches Ollie's helmet, telling him he's there.

"Step back we're going to pull the car out." A marshal tells him, guiding him back.

Carlos wraps him in his arms as they watch the crane try to pull the car out. Unfortunately he is wedge in tight and the car hardly moves.
Ollie is convinced he's going to die in here, that this is it. He's been upside down for who knows how long now, and he's starting to loose the energy to claw at the gravel, trying to get out. He's heard his daddies, which as much as he thought it might, hasn't helped. They were supposed to get him out of here, but he's still trapped. Then he feels the car jolt, a new wave of pain cutting through the tingling in his legs and he screams.

"Fuck!" One of the marshals curses.

By now everyone is watching from the pit lane while the red flag is still being waved on track. Horror is spreading through every single person as they watch the unsuccessful attempt to pull Ollie from the barrier but also how Charles and Carlos got treated when they are rightfully terrified.
Ollie's starting to go quiet inside the cockpit, which is honestly worse than listening to his screaming, at least they knew he was still conscious while he screamed. They try to pull the car out again as Ollie goes completely quiet. Charles simply can't watch anymore and he untangles from Carlos, running back over and staring to move the tires Ollie got himself stuck in. It's painful trying to move them, and even with Carlos and six marshals it takes way longer than anyone is comfortable with.
With the new amount of room the marshals can hook a second set of ropes to the car. With this they are able to drag Ollie from the barrier but they're not done yet, they still have to flip him over. Charles and Carlos try to do it as soon as he's away from the wall, but the car is too heavy. It takes a team of them to flip the car over.

"We're going to get you out sweetie. Papa and daddy are right here." Carlos says.

Hands of marshals are reaching in to get him out, they have to do it because they are trained. Charles and Carlos hover, watching as Ollie is pulled out, seat and all. He's breathing, they can see it. His helmet is very carefully pulled off and a neck brace is wrapped around his neck.

"Daddy? Papa?" Ollie calls, trying to locate them with his immobilized neck.

"We're right here sweetie." Charles drops to his knees next to him.

"Hurts daddy." Ollie whispers.

"What hurts, ourson, where is it?" Charles asks.

Ollie cries softly as he's moved again before he can answer. There are on sight doctors ready to have a look at him and Carlos and Charles will not be left off this ride. Thankfully no one tries to say they can't come. Carlos and Charles are done with the race, no amount of money in the world could get them back in the car, especially not hearing the pained cries from Ollie as he's moved. They each take one of his hands while the trackside doctors have a look.

"We're here sweetie, you're safe now." Charles whispers, brushing some curls away from Ollie's face.

"Wanna go home." The little cries pitifully.

"We will, bear, we just have to know you're ok." Carlos says.

Nothing looks broken, just badly bruised so thats a small relief. He's taken to Haas to be observed for a little bit, make sure nothing develops.

"We should get him changed." Carlos says softly.

"I know but I don't want to leave him." Charles says.

"What do you guys need?" Ian, the doctor looking after him, asks.

"His diaper bag is upstairs, it has a change of clothes and his comfort items." Carlos explains.

"I can ask someone to go grab it." Ian offers.

"Can you?" Charles perks up.

Ollie has a death grip on his race suit so he's definitely not going anywhere.

"Yeah, just a second, I'll finish this quickly." Ian says, fiddling with a couple monitors.

They have Ollie stripped to his pull-up now, a thin medical grade blanket coming up just past his belly button.

"Wanna go home." He tries to plead with Carlos.

"I know you do but we can't yet." Carlos says softly.

Ollie whines, looking to Charles with pleading eyes. He just kisses the boys head.
They wait a while, trying to comfort him, someone eventually coming down with his bag. Charles wraps his nicer blanket around his shoulders and offers the pacifier while Carlos very carefully gets him diapered and in soft, loose pj pants.

"It's all going to be ok, you're safe with us." Charles sighs.

Ollie shudders and leans against him, holding onto Carlos as he also sits on the bed and wait for the ok to bring him home.

Chapter Text

If there is one thing that Isack has been told his entire life it's that being little is wrong, shameful, something to be cured.
You would think since his dad is a physicist with a working understanding of other scientific fields that he would have been encouraging his regression, but every time Isack would be kicked in the shin under a table, or get smacked upside the head. When at home he would be allowed to regress but it was so controlled, and probably the most unpleasant experience of Isacks life. This is the reason he only regressed for a very short period of time in his life, the need was almost beat out of him until Max came along, and Daniel has not helped.
All this being said, he really loves Max and Daniel, they make regressing an actual enjoyable time for him, but there are always days that he just can't cope. Max has seen glimpses of it, but that was before he got Isack regressing properly, but it was mostly just him refusing to drop in the first place, followed by a few tears. They had all the time in the world if Isack needed to take things slow, and thats what they did, it's just different now.
Isack is actually happy, he's playing, he's exploring, he's a bit mischievous at times but that's ok. He's finally accepted Daniel as 'daddy' and they are finding their groove slowly but surely. The thing is, Isack has never told anyone about what the maybe six months of regression looked like for him nearly a decade ago when he was classified, and he has no idea how to handle feelings when he's small. Should he have talked to Max? Most definitely, but every time he thought about it he chickened out, and now here they are.

—

Isack woke up feeling uncomfortable in his body, not just the wet pull-up he has on, but everything. Pjs he normally love are itchy and tight in all the wrong spots, the blankets are bunched wrong around his feet, his pillow is too flat, it's just all wrong and uncomfortable. He whines, but stops himself, remembering the way that would get him bopped on the mouth. Max or Daniel have never even threatened to raise a hand to him, but he can't help the flash of fear he feels.
Just as he's about to get out of bed, the door opens and Max slowly makes his way in.

"Oh, I didn't know you were awake." Max smiles softly to him.

Isack whines, a needy, pathetic little sound and he reaches for Max. He has to keep reminding himself that Max is safe, one of the two safest people in his life next to Daniel, but he's already getting overstimulated and it's not even noon.

"I've got you schat, you're ok." Max coos, lifting Isack out of bed.

Max rocks on his heels for a few minutes, letting Isack calm down with the touch as much as he can.

"Should we get you changed, daddy is almost done making breakfast." Max says softly.

Isack nods and Max lowers the boy to his feet. Isack shifts, already pulling his uncomfortable shirt off, throwing it on the floor. Max raises an eyebrow at him but doesn't comment. He instead grabs a soft shirt, and matching shorts, alone with a pull-up.

"Alright schat, can you lay down for me?" Max asks.

Isack listens without complaint, knowing the drill all too well. Max smiles at him and wiggles his shorts off, pulling his wet pull-up with it, then wiping him down. Max slides the pull-up on him, then reaches for the shorts.

"No!" Isack exclaims, slapping his hand over Max's.

"Oh, ok. You don't want to get dressed?" Max asks.

Isack shakes his head quickly, already getting up. If it were up to him he wouldn't be wearing a stitch, it's too uncomfortable, but he knows Max would never go for that.

"Ok, let's go eat then." Max says, a little confused but following Isacks lead.

Isack makes his way down the hall, Max close behind.

"Hey, cricket..?" Daniel says, a little confused at Isacks attire.

He looks to Max who shrugs.

"He didn't want to put clothes on, I'm not pushing it." Max says quietly.

He plates up food for Isack, setting it in front of the little. Daniel nods, and plates up his and Max's breakfast.
They eat pretty silently, Max and Daniel discussing the final few races of the season that are fast approaching. Isack picks at his food with his fork, eating maybe half before pushing it away.

"Wanna play, papa." Isack says.

"Ok, you go ahead we'll meet you there in a few minutes." Max says.

Isack slumps out of his chair and makes his way to the living room.

"He seems off today." Daniel comments.

"Yeah, I don't know I haven't seen him like this before." Max adds.

Daniel hums and finishes his breakfast with Max, then taking their plates.

"I don't mind cleaning up." Max offers.

"No, no, it's fine." Daniel waves him off.

"Meet you in the living room?" Max asks, feeling like a love sick teenager.

"Of course." Daniel flashes him a smile.

Max walks out into the living room, pulling Isack into his lap and join his game. Daniel joins them a few minutes later, getting down on the floor, lying on his side, head resting in his hand.
Isack isn't feeling all that much better even after breakfast, Max is too warm for him today, and his breathing is irritating down his neck. He shifts uncomfortably, trying to focus on his toys but he just can't. And Daniel's laugh that normally grounds him cranks him up. He twitches, especially as nap time comes closer. He's trying to be good though, trying not to whine, lest he get some form of painful punishment.
But he knows that look that daddy is giving papa, and he knows exactly what they're thinking. He can't whine, but he doesn't want to take a nap.

"Hey cricket, should we think pjs, and a little sleep?" Daniel asks.

Isack can't stop the whine form leaving. He doesn't want to, so many little things have made today not fun, and the thought of anymore touching, more uncomfortable blankets and flat pillows make him want to climb a wall.
But he can't say no, in general he can't because he will be overruled one way or another but also Max is already lifting him out of his lap to Daniel.
Isack panics, he hasn't been good today, uncooperative, maybe today is the day that he gets a smack for bad behaviour. He doesn't want to feel that pain again, he stopped regressing to stop feeling that pain, he can't go back. He can't, he can't!
Isack can't breathe as he's lifted up, and in his panic he starts to struggle, trying to get Daniel to let go. Now since no one has ever seen Isack regressed, scared, and overstimulated, no one is prepared for exactly what comes next. Isack feels out of options and his fight response kicks in so he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into Daniel's hand.

"Motherfu-" Daniel cuts himself off before he teaches Isack a new swear word.

He gets back down on the floor and lets Isack crawl away from him.

"Isack Alexander!" Max reprimands. "You don't bite people."

Isack flops onto his belly and screams, hitting his fists against the floor. He knows this is going to hurt in return but now that he's throwing this tantrum he can't stop it.
Max crouches in front of him, arms crossed looking serious.

"Isack, we need to calm down and apologize, then you're going to have a nap." Max says sternly.

He will never ever spank, or smack his little, he's not his father, doesn't believe in using the same methods used on him in childhood but he has no qualms out giving him a timeout.

"Fuck off!" Isack wails.

Max knows he learned that phrase from him, but never in this context.

"Fine, I think you need to sit in the corner for a few minutes then." Max says, picking Isack up by the arm.

"Nooo!" Isack screams, fighting against his caregiver.

He looks pleadingly at Daniel but said caregiver is definitely not on his side in this.

"Three minutes. If you move we start over." Max says.

Isack screams, and cries, but doesn't move. The screaming is more in fear now, waiting for the smack that should be coming anytime. But Max sets his timer and gets up, never laying an aggressive hand on him. All he does is go look at Daniel's hand to check damage.

"Are you ok?" The Dutchman asks quietly.

"Yeah, he didn't break skin." Daniel says, showing his boyfriend.

Max takes a look and sighs softly.

"Sorry." Max sighs. Daniel shrugs at him.

"Don't be, littles have tantrums."

Max nods and they sit, watching Isack in the corner. He turns his head, a confused look laced with fear in his eyes.

"Turn around, the timer hasn't gone off yet." Max says.

Isack squeaks and turns around. The minutes tick by painfully, Max and Daniel feeling awful about actually having to punish him even though he needs it. Finally after what feels like forever the timer goes off.

"You can come out now." Max says softly.

Isack wastes no time springing up and running right into their arms.

"'M sorry, 'm sorry!" Isack cries, trying to hug them both.

"It's over cricket, you're forgiven." Daniel promises.

"Please no hurt!" Isack begs.

"Schat, what do you mean? We would never hurt you." Max says, bringing Isack out to look at him.

"W-what?" Isack asks.

"Cricket, we will never hurt you." Daniel says very seriously.

"Won't?" Isack asks, looking just about as confused.

"No, we won't, why would you think we would?" Max asks.

"Always do." Isack says, still confused.

"Schat, have we been hurting you?" Max asks, feeling awful.

"No, no! B-but.." Isack breaks down again.

Daniel pulls him back to his chest, letting him cry a bit.

"Baby, can you tell us who did?" Max asks.

"Famille." Isack says.

"Oh cricket." Daniel whispers.

"Schat, we need to know, what happened?" Max asks. 

And so through lots of tears Isack explains everything, how he would get smacked or kicked under a table for regressing in public, how rigidly his regression was controlled. He also detailed the best he can how the need to regress was slowly beaten out of him, replaced with the need to protect himself and his career because it wouldn't allow for broke bones. And now especially that his headspace is public knowledge he's terrified.
Max and Daniel are horrified hearing what Isack went through.

"How long did this going on?" Max asks.

"S-stopped being little in less than a year, hurt." Isack whimpered.

"I bet it did, cricket. I'm so sorry you went through that." Daniel says, hugging Isack tighter.

"Oh baby. We will never, ever do anything like that to you. Being little is part of you and thats not something you should be ashamed of. I think today you just got a little overwhelmed, and you biting daddy was maybe a trauma response instead of something you wanted to do, hmm?" Max says.

Isack stutters a breath but nods.

"'M sorry daddy." Isack turns his attention to Daniel.

"You're good, cricket, daddy's not mad." Daniel promises.

"Schat, next time you're felling like this you can talk to us, we will always listen." Max says.

Isack nods, grabbing Max's hand and pulling him into the cuddle. Now that he's calmer he's also exhausted, and he starts to yawn in Daniel's lap.

"Should we get ready for a nap now?" Max asks.

"Don't leave." Isack begs, tears coming to his eyes.

"What if we all had a nap in papa and daddy's bed?" Max suggests.

"Can?" Isack asks.

"Yeah, we can cricket, let's go get you cozy first." Daniel says.

Max lifts Isack and takes him to change before the three crawl into bed and have a collective nap, Isack safe between both his daddies.

Chapter Text

Just because Oscar is a little doesn't mean he's stupid, quite the opposite actually, he's a very smart person, did very well in his high school career, and had he not gotten into Formula 1 he would have continued to excel in university. But he finds that a lot of the time people find out he's a little and then feel the need to talk down to him, say things he understands just fine in ways they would talk to toddlers. It drives him up a wall to be spoken to like this, like he's regressed and can't understand the simplest of things even when he is in his 24 year old state of mind.
Mark has had to comfort him more than once after this, because it only happens after they find out. And sometimes when he comes in contact with these people again later in the company of Lando, they talk to Oscar through his teammate like he's a baby that can't understand them. It makes him want to scream, but that would only prove their point.
But people also think that they can whisper about him and he won't understand.

—

Lando has been catching up in the points recently, not enough for Oscar to feel overly threatened in terms of his championship standing, but enough for the rumour mill to start to heat up. He will walk through the paddock and whispers of; 'well you knew a little could never be champion.' Or 'I don't know why they let him race with that headspace.'
He wants to scream at all of them, to tell them that being a little doesn't define him as a driver, but the condescending coos he would get in return would make it all worse. Just because he's a little doesn't mean he's helpless. Why can't people see that?

"You good Osco?" Lando asks, jogging up next to him after dropping Franco off.

"I'm fine." Oscar mutters, a little harsher than he intended.

Lando looks around, noticing people looking in their direction and whispering to each other. 'Have you ever seen him without a caregiver by his side? He's helpless.'
Lando watches Oscar's jaw twist, and he knows he's grinding his teeth.

"Where's Mark?" Lando asks quietly.

"Working." Oscar responds shortly.

Lando doesn't take this personally, he hates that Oscar's classification is semi-public knowledge. He doesn't quite know how they got to this point, McLaren knows obviously, but how it jumped to just about every team remains a mystery.

"Well, I'm starving, I don't know about you, but I need something to eat." Lando says, trying to pretend that people aren't badmouthing his teammate.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Oscar says.

Lando is great at pretending everything is fine so he leads Oscar without touching him into hospitality. He's not in the market to add fuel to this fire.

"What can I interest you in?" Lando asks.

"My usual I guess." Oscar shrugs.

The comments are really bothering him today. He's not helpless, he's definitely not useless, he doesn't always need a caregiver pressed against his side. Contrary to popular belief he can be an adult when he needs to. Lando wants to call Mark to fix this, but that would only further upset him. So instead he orders Oscar usually avocado toast, telling Oscar to go sit and he'll bring it to him. Oscar grumbles something, clearly very upset about all the people talking about him.
Lando takes the opportunity he's gone to text Mark.

'I don't want Osc to get upset even more but he's pretty mad about the comments today' - Lando.

'Thanks for letting me know, just keep an eye out, I'll be there in time for the race start' - Mark.

'👍' - Lando.

Lando pockets his phone as their breakfast comes out, and he takes it to Oscar.

"Here we go, need you to get all your energy." Lando says.

Oscar just glares at him, but Lando can see just how devastated he is behind him trying to act tough and mad. Lando doesn't comment, he doesn't want to say the wrong thing and make Oscar regress when he needs to be getting in the racing mindset.

"Sorry." Lando says.

"Whatever. Thank you." Oscar says, suddenly remembering he does in fact have manners.

Lando smiles and sits as well, letting Oscar eat in silence, he's clearly not in a chatty mood this morning, or even less so than normal. Honestly every time someone tries to talk to Oscar through him he wants to smack then, tell them that Oscar is who they should be talking to for these answers, especially when he noticing the twist in Oscar's jaw. It's a newer tick of his, to grind his teeth when he gets upset, something Mark is trying to break because it's not good for his poor teeth but so far it has been unsuccessful.

—

The time before the race ticks by, engineers, media, catering all floating in the space around them, but Oscar's head is full of static noise. He's trying really, really hard not to drop, but to hear such nasty things makes it hard. He'll show them, he's starting on pole for the third weekend in a row and they still think he doesn't belong here. He's going to win this race and prove every single one of them that he can do this job just as well as anyone else. Lando has been softly humming next to him, bobbing his head and tapping his foot, doing anything he can to keep Oscar grounded enough to do his job. It feels futile, Oscar's jaw is twisting, and Lando is pretty sure he heard it pop at some point, but he keeps trying. Then his alarm goes off.

"Well, we should get ready then." Lando says, tapping the table.

"Hmm? Oh right." Oscar looks up from his phone and processes for a second.

He locks his phone, looking no better than when they sat down, and shoves his chair away from the table. Lando follows behind him as they make their way up the steps to their driver rooms.

"See you later." Oscar says quietly as he ducks into his room.

"Good luck!" Lando calls to him just as the door shuts. "Holy shit."

Sure he's seen Oscar upset before, but this is just horrible. There is nothing he can do that is fixing this when usually something will pull him out of a funk at least for an hour.
He takes a breath and pushes into his own room to change, now is the time to push it away and focus on himself.

—

Oscar is sitting in the car, waiting for the confirmation that the final car has lined up at the back of the grid, eyes fixed on the lights, jaw twisting. He's going to prove everyone wrong. He can win this championship, he belongs in a top team, he belongs in the car.

"Alright Oscar, the last car has lined up." Tom tells him over the radio.

He clicks his radio button to show he heard but doesn't really feel the need to respond, nothing really he needs to say. Then the lights come on, the sound of whirring engines block out the screaming fans. Five lights illuminate, a pause enough to take one final breath then they go out and Oscar hits the gas. Max and Lando are right behind him he knows but this is for more than the championship, this is for him, and to shut everyone up.
Coming down into turn one Max tries to overtake him around the inside but Oscar is having absolutely none of that and manages to get himself out ahead of the Dutchman. He will not loose this one. With a little bit of room now, Oscar peels off from the pack, building up that gap from thousands of seconds to multiple seconds.

"Whats the gap?" Oscar asks when he deems they are far enough in for it to matter.

"You are 8.4 seconds ahead of Verstappen." Tom relays to him.

Good, but not enough, so he pushes just that much harder to build up the growing gap. He will not loose this, he just can't, not with what everyone been saying.

"Oscar, there is no competition at the moment, clam down, we want to keep these tires." Tom says, watching Oscar pump out fastest lap after fastest lap, the gap building bigger and bigger.

Oscar can't help but whimper, it's not enough, he deserves his spot, and he can push and prove that to everyone.

"How many laps left, Tom?" Oscar asks when he starts to get tired.

He already pit for new tires and still came out before Max caught him.

"12 left, you're almost there." Tom says.

"Whats the gap?" Oscar asks next.

"13.4 seconds in front of Verstappen." Tom says.

Oscar has started to cry now, but if you ask him why he can't tell you, words would elude him. He's tired now, he's beyond hurt by people this weekend, but he's about to prove them all wrong, so maybe these are tears of relief. He doesn't care, he just cares about continuing to perform. He's lapped half the grid now, pushing out faster and faster laps, possibly setting a track record, which he won't complain about. And he hopes everyone is watching now, watching him win by close to fifteen seconds.

"Where are we?" Oscar asks, or sobs he supposes.

"2 more laps." Tom says, perplexed by the tone of his driver.

From in the garage, Mark is watching and they share a look. Mark can't get on the radio, can't a distract him, he's doing to well and he needs this.
Penultimate lap he pushes out a final fastest lap, then the last is clouded by tears. The gap only tightened by two or three thousands of a second, Oscar still sees the checkered flag first with 15 seconds in front of everyone.
Tears stream down his face, soaking into the padding of his helmet, a strangled sob escaping his mouth. He needed that, and he needs this right now. He pulls up to the P1 board, hunching over his steering wheel and sobbing. He can hear people screaming and cheering, then a hand comes down the in cockpit with him.
Oscar sobs into his helmet, and a voice he recognizes calls softly over it.

"Daddy?" Oscar asks.

"You did amazing, koala bear." It's Mark.

He sobs harder. "Did it daddy."

"You did, I'm so proud of you." Mark says.

Oscar feels hands move down and he's freed from his buckles. Mark grabs him under the arms and lifts him out of the car, setting him on his feet.

"Did it!" Oscar cries to him, clutching him tight.

Now to the public Oscar's regression is secret, but Marks fatherly adoration for him certainly is not, so this just looks like a cute moment between the two. Really, Oscar is dropped, and overflowing with emotion.

"You did, baby. I need you to hold on just a little longer for me, just until after the podium." Mark says.

Oscar nods, and Mark winks at Lando as he grabs his teammate to keep him safe.
It's a double little podium, Kimi is here too, which makes Oscar feel like this was even more worth it. It carries him through the podium ceremony, he's not big, but he makes it until he's returned to Mark.

"My koala bear, daddy's so proud of you!" Make praises, scooping the boy up.

Oscar starts to cry again, hugging Mark tightly. This was a redemption run, his lead extended nicely, and not a single person can say he didn't deserve today's win.

"Should we get you changed?" Mark asks.

Oscar nods against his shoulder and so Mark goes through the motions of cleaning him up and getting him changed. A soft hoodie, a diaper, shorts and a pacifier is what Mark dresses him in.

"I'm so incredibly proud of how you drove, koala bear. I love you so much, and you know you can always talk to me when things go wrong." Mark says.

Oscar nods and holds tight, needing this more than the win.

Chapter Text

There were maybe probably a lot of things that Gabi held back from Fernando, his regression ages, his actual needs, the fact that storms are the scariest thing in the world to him, you know, little stuff.
Storms are the worst for him, even if they didn't used to be, it used to be a thing with his family when he was younger that they would sit in the living room surrounded by light candles and play games until they at least got power back. But then they got older, and they stopped playing games, his parent a said he was getting to old, they only did it to keep him from wetting the bed in fear by keeping him distracted. He was too old for it so they stopped. But funny thing, as soon as the games stopped, the bed wetting started again, which annoyed his parents even more. He wasn't yet classified by that point, but they knew by then, and used it against him every time a storm would pass and he would wake up in wet sheets. They threatened him with diapers more than once which was enough to completely turn him off of a young headspace, hence why he lied to Fernando.
He's dealt with storms on his own from then on, cowering under covers, and changing wet sheets once the skies have cleared. He doesn't like dealing alone but it's his reality, so he supposes it's whatever.

—

Fernando and Gabi have a week off between races that they are spending in Monaco. Fernando has been trying to get Gabi on a schedule but he's been resistant to it, trying to insist he doesn't need any of this. It's been hard, but Gabi is cracking, he doesn't like it, but he is.
They have arrived at the bedtime portion of the day, 8:45 because Gabi would pitch a fit at 8:30 despite only a fifteen minute difference. He's doing it anyway though.

"Gabi, come on I could pack for a race weekend with the bags under your eyes. It's bed time bud." Fernando tries to be convincing.

"'M not tired!" Gabi exclaims, tears running fast down his face.

"Darling, come here." Fernando coos softly, opening his arms for the little.

Against maybe his better judgment, Gabi crawls into Fernando's arms and sobs. The Spaniard wraps him up tight and stands, swaying him softly. Gabi grabs onto his shirt, starting to calm down now.

"That's it." Fernando says softly.

Gabriel slowly comes down from sobbing to soft crying to finally just small sniffles. With him now calm, Fernando takes him down the hall to the room they have set up specially for his little side. It has a bed low to the floor, a bright comforter on it and soft pillows. They still need to pain and decorate the space but that will come soon. For now, Fernando sits Gabi on the bed and pulls off his day clothes, leaving him in his boxers. He then grabs pjs, a shirt with a sleepy dinosaur across the chest and black shorts. Once he's dressed Fernando cleans up his face and helps him brush his teeth before guiding him into bed.

"Do you want a story?" He asks softly, crouching next to Gabis bed.

"No." The little shakes his head.

Fernando smiles softly, sighing internally. One day he'll get him to accept this side of himself fully, just not today. Regardless, he kisses the boys head, properly tucking him in and shutting his light off. He refused a nightlight when offered too, so the room plunged into darkness. Gabi sighs and shuts his eyes, rolling over to get comfortable as the door shuts behind the exiting Fernando. He leaves the door open a crack though, letting light from the hallway trickle in a little so it's not pitch black for the little. Then he goes to clean up the kitchen and living room from the storm of the day.

—

Just as Fernando is starting to get ready for bed himself, Gabi long asleep, the rain starts bartering against the window. He frowns, not realizing they were supposed to get a storm tonight. But when he checks his weather app sure enough there is a severe thunderstorm warning going all night. It's not like it affects him that much but a pre warning would have been nice. Now he goes to triple check all the doors are locked before he can finally crawl into bed and shut his light off.
He starts to drift off a while later, after he's properly sat on his phone, when the first booming clap of thunder arrives right over head.

"For fucks sake." He sighs. He just wants to go to bed.

But it's literally right overhead, so the second clap arrives within less than thirty seconds. He sighs again and gets out of bed, going to check on Gabi, hopping he's sleeping through this. But when he pushes the door open to Gabis room there is a shaking ball of blankets in the middle of the bed, none of Gabis body visible. He was not expecting this in the least. With great concern he approaches the bed and is hit with the smell of urine. Poor thing wet the bed.

"Hey, buddy. Why are you hiding?" Fernando asks, putting a soft hand on what he thinks is Gabis back.

The little sobs quietly under the blankets but doesn't move away from the touch.

"Can I see your face?" The Spaniard asks.

Very slowly, Gabi uncovers his face, turning tear filled eyes to Fernando.

"Is the storm a little scary?" The caregiver asks.

Gabi nods, and just then there is another loud clap of thunder. The little yelps and burrows back under the covers, restarting with sobbing. Fernando sighs softly and reaches under the covers, pulling Gabi out and to his chest. Gabi sobs, grabbing hold of his caregiver with all his might.

"I'm not going anywhere, snuggle bug, I promise." Fernando whispers, holding Gabi close despite the wet pjs.

Clothes can be changed, but memories and trust, not so much.

"You're really scared, aren't you bud?" Fernando asks.

Gabi sobs, jumping out of his skin at the next crack of thunder. Fernando holds him tight and stands giving him a better position to start softly rocking the little. Unfortunately there isn't a spot in the house that would be any quieter, the storm is quite literally right above them.

"Darling, what do you normally do when you're on your own?" Fernando asks.

"Hide!" Gabi cries.

This is clearly not the only time he's had to deal by himself and he must have gotten used to not having anyone around to protect him from what he finds scary.

"Ok, why don't we curl up in daddy's bed, hmm? Does that sound good?" Fernando proposes.

Gabi nods, he doesn't really care where they are he just doesn't want Fernando to let go. He's too old for this, but he can't get enough of it.
Fernando kisses his head and grabs new pjs to change him into once he's calmed down. Then just as they enter Fernando's room, the power goes out, his fan stops spinning and the little hall light goes out. Gabi cries harder, holding on that much tighter.

"You're safe, I've got you." Fernando promises.

He has to think fast, otherwise Gabi is going to make himself sick. He decides that they need some light, and if that can't come from a bulb, then it will from a flame. He changes course, taking Gabi to the living room where he has about 12 scented candles. So this may be a bit of a funky aroma, but it will make Gabi feel better, he hopes anyway.
With one hand he lights all the candles, arranging them around to give the best light to the room. And for a moment, Gabi stops crying a perks up, looking around the room at all the candles, memories of his childhood flooding back to him. But the good can't exist without the bad, and he's crying harder before properly registering it. However it happens to coincide with another clap of thunder, so Fernando assumes thats the problem.

"Why don't we get you cleaned up and we can hang out here until the power comes back." Fernando suggests.

Gabi nods but doesn't let go, somewhat hoping they can do this without moving. Unfortunately it doesn't work like that, and Fernando has to set him on the ground to get him changed. He stashed a pack of baby wipes in the living room and he pulls them out from the coffee table and lays Gabi down, gently holding his arms to control him on the way down. Gabi doesn't like this, doesn't like how much this feels like a diaper change and he sobs while being stripped.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry bud." Fernando says softly while cleaning up Gabis legs.

Just as quickly he gets Gabi back in new clothes.

"Ok, we should try and get some more sleep." Fernando suggests.

Gabi grips him tightly as they move over to the couch. Fernando settles them comfortably in a position that gives hope of more sleep and wraps them up in a blanket.

"I've got you, you're safe." Fernando promises.

"Please! Don't wanna go back to bed!" Gabi sobs.

"No, you don't have to, we can stay right here." Fernando says.

The plea confuses him a bit, but there has to be more in there than what meets the eye. Now is not the time to be asking though, Gabi is way to up in his own head to be asking any deep questions. So instead he asks something else.

"What if we got a few books, we can read for a bit. You don't have to go to sleep again until you're ready." Fernando suggests. 

Gabi nods and Fernando gets up, carrying him to his room using the flashlight on his phone to guide the way. He picks up four books, one's age appropriate for him and returning to the candle light living room.
Gabi has a steady stream of tears running down his face though while Fernando cuddles them both up on the couch. With one hand Fernando holds the book, the other holding Gabi and occasionally wiping away tears. He smiles while reading though as Gabi slides down and gets more comfortable.

"You've been brave, Madame lady bug. It's inspiring." It's a line in the book, but Fernando directs it to Gabi braving the storm.

"Like this book." Gabi whispers.

Fernando smiles and kisses his head, then keeps reading. Gabi jumps with every clap of thunder, even as it passes over their heads, the winds whipping around outside.

"Daddy, can umm... can we read more?" Gabi asks as they finish this book.

"Of course we can, do you want to pick?" Fernando asks, wiping more tears.

Gabi nods, looking over his options and ends up picking one about a bear, a grumpy looking one. Fernando kisses his head, cleaning Gabis face with the corner of their shared blanket before starting to read the new book.
They get about halfway through before Gabi stops him.

"Daddy, don't like storms." Gabi confessed.

"I gathered that, baby. Is this helping you?" Fernando asks.

"Y-yeah. Like the stories." Gabi nods.

"Then whenever it storms, you and I will light candles and read stories." Fernando decides.

"Too old for it." Gabi says quietly.

"Buddy, you could be 200 years old and you still won't be too old for this. If you need this, then this is what we do." Fernando says.

"Promise?" Gabi asks like he doesn't believe his caregiver.

"I pinky promise." Fernando says, linking pinkies with his little.

"Should we finish the story?" Fernando then asks.

Gabi nods and settles back against his chest to finish the story. Fernando keeps reading in the glow of fire light.
He looks down when he finishes the story and sees Gabi asleep again, cheek pressed against his chest and he can't help but smile.

Chapter Text

Coming home to Monaco after Monza Kimi feels like shit with a headache and sore throat. He's been clingier than normal to Carmen and George, begging to be held by both at all times. It started right after the race, he attached himself to Carmen and refused to let go until he fell asleep. They didn't even have to give Kimi his meds, he was asleep before arriving at the airport and slept the entire flight home. He then also slept through the drive and the rest of the night arriving home. It concerned the caregivers a little bit, Kimi has never been so lethargic before, he hardly even woke up when Carmen changed his diaper, or when George gave him an evening bottle. That one he didn't even finish before falling asleep again.
Then the fever started and the caregivers assumed it was the flu, so they got him in a cool bath to bring his temp down, diapered him and put him to bed, no pjs, just his blanket.
The following morning, George decides to get Kimi up and moving while Carmen makes them breakfast, hoping he's feeling a bit better now.

"Hey, sweetheart, we should really get you changed." George coos softly.

Kimi whines and wraps himself further up in his blanket, shivering. George scoops him up, blanket and all and sets him on the change table. Kimi shivers again, whines louder when George pushes his blanket up to access the wet diaper he's wearing. But as he pushes the blanket up over Kimis belly he pauses. There on his stomach are red spots that look like a rash.

"Hey Car! Can you come here please!?" George calls out into the kitchen.

"Coming!" She calls back.

"Dada, is itchy." Kimi whines, moving down to scratch his belly.

"No, no, don't touch those baby." George says, grabbing his hands before he can.

Just then Carmen walks in.

"Whats going on- Oh god he has chicken pox!" She exclaims.

She reaches past George and rips off his diaper exposing more of the rash. Kimi whines, trying to get his hands away from George to itch the rash.

"What do we do now? I've never had chicken pox?" George asks.

"Go run a cool bath, I will grab the oats and meet you there." Carmen says.

George nods, picking Kimi up, tucking his arms between the chests and taking him to the bathroom.

"Dada!" Kimi cries, trying to wiggle his hands free.

It's so itchy and he wants nothing more than to scratch his skin off. George isn't letting him either, instead choosing to let him suffer with the itch.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but if you scratch it will get worse." George says.

He's fully vaccinated, good thing, so the risk of them catching this after isn't horrible.
George has to hold Kimi somewhat restraint against him while running the water. He wiggles and cries, trying to be let go but George is stronger. Then Carmen comes in with a bag of oats, sprinkling a generous amount in the water. Kimi is still trying to throw his fit and scratch his skin, but George isn't letting him. Instead Carmen grabs hold of his hands as he's set in the beige, murky, and cold water. He's slid down until the water reaches his neck, Carmen still holding his hands just above water so he doesn't go picking.

"I'll be right back." George says and gets up.

Kimi, who is unable to move as freely as he wishes, has taken to screaming his displeasure about the situation he finds himself in. It's an assault on Carmen's poor eardrums, but it's one she's willing to bear in order to ease the rash.

"I know baby, I know this isn't fun. I'm sorry." Carmen coos, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.

Kimi continues to scream and cry in response, but he's stopped trying to yank his hands away, the oats have soothed the itch to a certain extent. He's just mad at life right now, he got over the flu a month ago and now he's sick again? Ridiculous.

"Good boy." Carmen coos.

"Alright, how are we doing in here?" George asks.

"Better, give him a few more minutes and we'll pull him out. What did you get?" Carmen asks.

"Mittens. I figured it would help prevent him from scratching." George explains, gesturing to the soft blue mittens on the counter.

"Smart." Carmen nods.

"Do you think he will be ok for the next race?" George asks quietly, watching Kimi get lethargic again.

"I hope so, chicken pox is the worst." Carmen says.

"Might not drive?" Kimi asks, sounding completely and utterly dejected.

"Of course you will sweetheart." George says, hoping for everyone's sake it's not a lie.

Tears slowly drip down Kimis face as he stills in the water. George wipes them away for him, cooing softly.
They sit for another ten or so minutes before they decide to end his suffering and pull him out.

"His hands are dry so put the mittens on now." Carmen says, holding Kimi restrained while wrapped in a towel.

George nods, glad he has someone with more of a working knowledge in this around. He slides the mittens on Kimis hands, tying neat little bows at the wrist to keep him from pulling them off. And of course thats the first thing Kimi tries, he hates this, but the stupid things won't come off. And yet another frustrated scream falls from him as he realizes he's not getting the mittens off. Carmen coos softly at him and they move back to the nursery.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" George says as Kimi is set back down to be changed.

He pulls the towel away, frowning still at the rash he has, but getting him diapered regardless. Carmen finds the softest piece of clothing she can get, which is actually a romper. George slides it on the boy and scoops him back up. It hides all of the spots adoring the boys belly and back, and the mittens will keep him from scratching.

"I need you to run an errand now." Carmen says.

"Yeah, what do we need?" George asks. 

"A specific cream, I'll send you a picture, but it will help with the rash." Carmen says, already pulling out her phone.

"I'm so glad you know what to do." George sighs.

Carmen smiles. "Alright, you have it now, so I'm going to send you on your way."

George nods, kissing her cheek, fluffing Kimis hair then heading out to get the cream. Carmen heads to the living room, setting Kimi up in a cocoon of blankets on the couch then turning on the tv, finding a cartoon and pressing play.

"Mama.." Kimi says quietly, his voice shaking a bit.

"Yes my darling?" Carmen asks softly. 

"Wanna drive." Kimi says, tears collecting in his eyes yet again.

"Ah baby, I know you do." She says, brushing some hair from his eyes. "We need to get you feeling better first."

Kimi cries pitifully, grabbing hold of her shirt so she can't leave him. Though the mittens are making it hard to hold on.

"I'm just going to go get you some water baby, I'll be right back." Carmen promises.

Kimi whimpers as she leaves to get him a sippy cup, but she's not gone long.

"Mama, please." Kimi begs quietly, reaching for her for a cuddle.

"Ok, I'm coming." Carmen says, sliding in under Kimis head.

Now that he has contact he relaxes back into watching his show. Carmen plays with his hair, occasionally grabbing a hand moving to scratch the rash and rest it back where it was. Then George comes home, shopping bag in hand.

"I got the cream, and some ice cream for later." George says.

"Thanks darling." Carmen smiles to him, then turns back to Kimi.

He's just about asleep again, and when he's moved he whines loudly at her.

"Shh, shh, it's ok. Close your eyes baby boy, this won't take long." Carmen coos.

Kimi grumbles something but shuts his eyes and lets himself be undressed. He shivers though, the fever kicking his ass, especially when his diaper is untaped and pulled back to expose the chicken pox under it. Carmen rubs the cream over the rash then tapes that diaper back up and focuses on Kimis belly.

"Dada, I wanna drive." Kimi mumbles quietly.

"I know, sweetheart, we're going to do our very best to make sure you can." George promises.

"Please." Kimi begs quietly.

"We're going to try." George says.

"No, promise." Kimi pleads, grabbing a loose hold of George's arm.

"I promise we'll try." George says, lifting Kimi into his arms.

Kimi drops his head onto George's shoulder and cries. He just wants to drive again, doesn't want to sit out a race because he's sick. That would mean staying home while his dada is gone. He's never been without George and he is not willing to find out what it's like now.

"I know sweetheart." George whispers.

Carmen coos softly at Kimi, rubbing his leg softly. George sits them back on the couch, resting Kimi between them so he can hopefully nap some more.

"Dada?" Kimi asks before falling asleep again.

"Yes, sweetheart?" The Brit asks.

"Off?" Kimi asks, holding his hands up.

"Not right now love, we don't want you to itch your skin." George explains.

Kimi whines, kicking his legs in protest. He doesn't like the stupid mittens, this whole virus is stupid but the mittens have to be the worst part of it all.

"We'll get him a doctor's appointment, hopefully he can get some meds to make this go away." Carmen says quietly.

George hums, watching Kimi doze off in between them both. They aren't sure exactly how long he will sleep for, but it's good that he is, it will help him feel better hopefully.

—

Kimi wakes up ready to itch his skin raw all over, but his hands are being held hostage by someone, and something. He opens his eyes while trying to yank his hands free but it's useless, Carmen is holding them away from him so he can't use them. And he still has the stupid mittens on.

"Mama off." Kimi demands.

"Sorry, angel." She just says, kissing his covered hands.

Kimi whines, rolling his head back in protest to his prison and itch. Carmen kisses his head softly, comforting him best she can while also not listening to him wanting the mittens off. She knows him well enough by now to know the first thing he would do it scratch and that is the last thing they want.
George, who Kimi only just notes is absent, walks into the living room carrying three bowls with spoons.

"Ice cream anyone?" George asks.

"Off?" Kimi requests, presenting his hands to George.

"No, sweetheart." George says, kissing the outstretched hands. "But I do have a sweet for you."

Carmen takes the bowl with Kimis ice cream, the best George could get while not in Italy. It's vanilla bean, but it will do. It's ice cream and while running a fever, Kimi will take it.

"Wanna drive." Kimi says again, looking sadly down at his bowl.

"I know baby." Carmen coos.

Kimi accepts the next bite of ice cream as Carmen brings the spoon back up to his mouth, but he's not happy about it.
George and Carmen share a look and agree; they won't tell Kimi that George texted Toto to tell him to have a reserve driver on standby just in case. That information will only upset him more, and he's been relatively easy to keep this time around.

"Do you want your show back on?" George asks softly while Kimi finishes his treat.

Kimi nods, resting back down against Carmen. George grabs the remote and turns the tv back on, finding the show Kimi was watching and pressing play.
The caregivers hope for everyone's sake that Kimi gets over this virus fast, because if he has to stay home they are in for a shit storm.

Chapter Text

Lando told Franco about this sponsor event a week ago, just to prepare him for it and not spring it on him last second and expect him to be fine with it. He would never do that to him, thats not fair. But what Franco heard when he's was told the date is; "you have to be big".
Now this is not what Lando meant at all, they don't have to be out the door until 7:30 in the evening so his plan was for Franco to be little until maybe an hour before. That would give him all the time he needs to be little, and it would help him feel a little calmer about this event. Franco always does better when he's had a bit of regression time before an event but he's decided that he can't today, and he decides that from the start.

—

Lando bumps Franco's bedroom door open softly at nine in the morning, a little later than is normal for him. He expects to find Franco still sleeping, but instead he's curled up and scrolling on his phone.

"Hey, sunshine?" Lando says, thrown off by this.

Franco looks up and smiles.

"Time to get up?" The little asks.

"Yeah... you don't want to be little?" Lando asks.

"No, I woke up big so I just got my phone from the kitchen." Franco shrugs.

Lando nods, he has always made sure Franco knew that when he's big he can just go grab it. Lando doesn't want little Franco on it, doesn't believe it's good for him when regressed so he keeps it plugged in on the kitchen counter.
Franco throws the blankets off his body and stands up, stretching a bit before relaxing and looking at Lando for whats next.

"Breakfast is ready," Lando says. "Do you want a change, first?"

"Yes please." Franco says, turning pink at the tips of his ears.

Lando smiles softly and helps Franco out of his wet pull-up, cleaning him up a bit before letting him put regular underwear on and finish getting himself dressed.

"I'll meet you in the kitchen, alright?" Lando says.

Franco nods while trying to find something to put on. Lando leaves him to it to go plate up their food.
As soon as the caregiver is gone, Franco sits down on the floor and whines. He just wants Lando to scoop him up and rock him in his arms while making the rest of the world disappear. He doesn't even want to go to this stupid event tonight, doesn't want to make small talk, doesn't want to shake rich old people hands, doesn't want to deal with the overwhelm of people around. Why can't they just stay home?
Lando considered getting a babysitter, maybe Max could have come and he and Isack could have hung out, but it turns out it's an event for the entire grid, so that option was unfortunately tossed out the window.
Franco comes out a few minutes later after he's pulled himself up from nearly slipping into headspace. On the table waiting for him is a bowl of oatmeal with some fruit and some toast if he wants something a little more solid.

"If you want to be little after breakfast, we have time." Lando says.

But Franco shakes his head. No time, actually. Today is not the day for being little, no matter how much he wants it to be.
Lando sighs softly, realizing short of forcing a regression, which he won't do, Franco is will not be little today.

—

It's finally time to start getting ready at 6:30, an hour before they have to leave. Franco has been big all day, despite a few close calls especially around nap time where he nearly dropped. He pulled it together though, even when Lando tried to embrace it and let him have a bit of little time. It didn't work, they managed, and now here they are. Lando is ushering Franco into the shower, he missed his bath last night, and he definitely needs to wash himself now.

"Just wash your hair and your body, we'll style it once you're out." Lando says.

Franco nods, stripping down and hopping into the shower and pulling the curtain. Lando leaves him to go get himself changed, he already showered the night before after he got Franco to bed. So once he has Franco situated, he steps out to his room and starts to get dressed. He had his and Franco's suits dry cleaned the day before so he pulls his out of his bag and starts to get dressed.
He has his dress pants on and his shirt halfway buttoned when Franco steps into his room, hair dripping down his back. Lando smiles at him.

"Your suit is in your room, I'll help you really quick then when you're mostly dressed we'll fix up your hair." Lando says, ushering Franco to his room.

"What— no please I'll be fine without." Franco begs as he sees Lando grab a pull-up.

"For me, please. I'll feel better knowing if something happens that you're protected.

Franco whines but relents, letting Lando slide the pull-up on him.

—

By the time 7:30 rolls around Franco is teetering again, trying desperately not to let it show to his caregiver as he slides into the passenger side of one of Landos many McLarens. Lando sets their playlist for when Franco is big and takes them down to the venue for their event tonight. There are already cars here, fancy ones that you would typically see driving around Monaco, and lots of cameras. The sun isn't even that low in the sky yet but the flashes feel so bright.

"Are you ok?" Lando asks.

"'M fine." Franco nods.

Lando notices the small slip up, wishing he could have gotten Franco to regress at one point today. They would normally be starting to wind down for bed time, have a bath, read a book, get in cozy pjs and maybe watch an episode of his favourite show before being tucked in. Unfortunately they have to be here, and even if he called his other Max to babysit, Franco's fan base would have clocked his absence within seconds.

"Come find me if something changes, ok? I can figure out a way to let us leave early." Lando says.

Franco nods but is dead set on not needing it to come to that. Lando pats his thigh and gets out, waving to the cameras until Franco gets out, then hands the keys to the valet. It's not a secret that Lando and Franco are friends, it's just what goes on behind closed doors that stays very private, so their arrival together won't spark anything huge. They pose for pictures as trained by the media team, standing and waiting an appropriate amount of time before the next car arrives and they become old news.
Lando guides them along inside the building, the noise hitting them first as they take a second to adjust to the darker light. There are what have to be thousands upon thousands of soft glowing lightbulbs hung from the ceiling and what has to be hundreds of people in expensive looking suits and dresses are under them. Franco swallows hard, pushing away his growing headspace, the little three year old in him telling him to turn and book it home. He can do this, he's 22 years old.

"I'll be around, ok. Never far." Lando says softly.

Franco nods and watches as someone in a dress what looks like costs more than Franco's salary pulls his caregiver away. He sighs and slips into the crowd himself, feeling overwhelmed almost immediately, so when a caterer passes through he snags a drink off her tray. If he's going to get through this, it's going to be with the help of alcohol.
He ends up finding Isack talking to an old man in a pressed suite, making small talk and being his usual endearing self. When the Frenchman spots him, he waves him over.

"This is Franco, he's driving with Alpine." Isack introduces him to the man.

"Lovely to meet you." The man says in a posh British accent.

Franco smiles. "And you."

He shakes the man's hand and instantly wants to cry, it's sweaty and warm and wet. He can't be rude either and wipe his hand on his suit so he just has to deal.
He does his best to answer questions thrown at him by this man and all the other people he meets but eventually not regressing really catches up to him. The music feels too loud in his skull, the chatter of people grows to impossible volumes, questions he's asked no matter how simple become impossible to answer, then finally, his headspace claws up from whatever depth he pushed it down into to make itself home.
Not here, not now, this is such terrible timing. He can't regress in front of important people like this. But it's happening anyway. Isack, whos he's been shadowing all night starts to feel his own headspace and looks at Franco.

"Are you alright?" He asks quietly.

"Gotta go." Franco whimpers.

"Do you want me to come?" The Frenchman asks.

Franco quickly shakes his head, giving him the drink he had been sipping and takes off to find the nearest bathroom.
He finds a stall, pushes it open and locks the door behind him as his headspace fully settles on him and he lets out a chocked cry. Today has been too much, and clearly this entire event has been the tipping point. He claws at his tie which now feels too tight around his throat but he can't get it to loosen.

"Daddy!" Franco cries pathetically, dropping his head into his knees.

He just wants to go home and crawl in bed. It's way past bedtime now anyway and he's truly feeling it. A pacifier would be nice right about now as well, and maybe his favourite hoodie he stole from Lando. That would definitely be much more comfortable than the suit he has on now.

"Daddy please, wanna go home!" Franco cries.

Daddy should be here holding him right now, but he has no idea where the Brit is.
Just then the door opens and he sucks in the next cry, trying not to let it come out, or let the person who just walked in know he's here. Footsteps of Franco shoes get closer and stop outside his stall then the person knocks.

"Franco, are you in there, sunshine?" It's daddy.

Franco sobs and reaches for the latch, hitting it so it slides open and Lando can step in. The Brit makes sure to re-lock it once he's inside then he focuses on his little. Franco is already reaching for him so Lando gathers him up close in his arms.

"Just too much, huh?" Lando says.

It's not a question, he knows Franco better than that to need to asks.

"Daddy, home." Franco begs him.

"Yeah, we're going to get you out of here." Lando confirms.

Franco hugs him tighter as they step out of the bathroom stall.

"I've got you, don't worry, daddy's here." Lando coos softly.

He sneaks out of the bathroom and to the car, holding Franco close as the poor thing starts to sob.

"What can I do baby, what would make this better?" Lando asks as he sits Franco in the passenger seat.

"Tie please." Franco says.

Lando nods and takes his tie off, then his jacket as well, then finally takes Franco home, holding his hand while driving.

"Ok sunshine, I think it's bedtime." Lando says as he carries Franco up to their apartment.

"Stay please." Franco requests with small sniffles.

"Of course I will." Lando promises.

He gets Franco out of his suit and wet pull-up, into a fresh one and comfy pjs, then wipes away the tears.

"I'm proud of you, sunshine." Lando says softly as he gets them both in bed.

"I tried." Franco whimpers.

"And I'm very proud of you for it."