Formula one sickfics/oneshots

Mick - "Stop it with the nicknames"

People: Mick, Sebastian

Ages: Mick (22), Sebastian (34)

POV Sebastian

I climbed out of my car and pulled my helmet off. The race hadn't gone well, as I had ended up P16, and I was quite frustrated with myself. I let out a couple of swear words under my breath, but felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around to look at one of my best friends, Lewis. He didn't say anything, just pulled me into a hug, understanding me even without words. His hug felt comforting and I pulled away, smiling greatfully at him. "Thank you Lewis", I said, starting to walk away. "No worries. I could tell you needed that", he spoke.

*After debrief and press*

I walked through the paddock, searching for the Haas motorhome. My frustration had gone by now, and Mick was the first thing on my mind at the moment. He had gotten off to a really good start, landing himself P7, but he dropped back massively after a pitstop that took close to 30 seconds, due to one of the tires struggling to fit on. I knew how much Mick was looking forward to a podium and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Mick has a special place in my heart. Starting my Formula one career, Micheal, his father, had always been a father figure to me. Having such a close bond meant a lot to me and since Mick doesn't have his dad with him to support him at races, I try to be a father figure for him.

I enter the busy building and pass by all the mechanics, looking for my friend. Usually, he's talking to some engineers or hanging out with his manager or trainer in his dressing-room, but I can't seem to spot him anywhere. "Hey Guenther, do you know where Mick is?", I ask the older man in front of me, hoping he'll know where he's hanging out. "No, I haven't seen him since debrief", he answers. I walk out of the building, hoping to find him hanging around the padddock somewhere. I turn the corner and almost stumble into someone sitting on the ground, their back against the red, white and blue building.

"Seb?", I hear a fragile voice call me. I look at the figure sitting on the ground, recognizing him immediately. "Mick, what are you doing here?", I ask, confused. "Too loud", he mumbles, pointing lazily at the garage. "What's going on?". I felt concerned for the kid in front of me. His usually bright, blue eyes were dull and it was as if he stared right through me with this empty gaze. "Nothing, don't worry". Mick got up from the floor, but stumbled as he walked away, falling towards the hard ground. Thanks to my fast reflexes, I quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him up, steadying him before slowly and very carefully letting myself slide down the wall, Mick still in my arms. When I was sure Mick was safe from falling over, I made him turn around, so that he was facing me.

"Well, that's definitely not 'nothing'. You can tell me if there's something wrong", I assured him. "There is really nothing wrong. You don't need to worry about me", Mick said, fidgeting with his necklace, staring at the floor. "Be honest. Look at me, buddy". Mick looked up, reluctantly making eyecontact with me. "I'm being honest, trust me", Mick tried again. I wanted to protest, but was cut off by my friend coughing loudly into the crook of his arm. His cough sounded very painful, so I rubbed his back to soothe him.

When he finally finished, he was even a little out of breath from the force of the coughs. "Seb, I really don't feel well", Mick finally confessed. All the dots connected for me; the sensitivity to loud noise, stumbling when he tried to get up, the coughing fit and his dull, glazed-over eyes. I also noticed his pale complexion and placed a gentle hand on his forehead, where I could feel a fever building up. I realised we needed to get out of here really soon, as people started noticing us and the guards were having a hard time keeping everyone away.

"Do you want to go to your trailer, or you wanna stay at mine?", I asked my friend, helping him up. "Closest one", he shrugged, so I guided him to my car and drove to the trailer park. My trailer was quite close-by, so I decided to take him there. Hannah wasn't with me today, neither were the kids, so it would be nice and quiet. "We're here", I said gently, trying not to hurt Mick's head even more. I earned a small nod and I supported him to my trailer, Mick leaning heavily on me, but we got there eventually. "Here, just lay down. I'll be right back", I told Mick, who climbed into my bed. I went to the bathroom to get my medicine bag, which held all types of medicine, a thermometer and much more unnecessary stuff I definitely should've left at home.

"Hey *Kleiner, can you open your eyes for me", I whispered, not sure whether he had fallen asleep or not. "Stop calling me that, I'm not small", he groaned. "You're still younger than me though", I reasoned, chuckling a little. Kleiner was a nickname I had called him once, and it had just stuck ever since. I carefully placed the thermometer in Mick's ear, but he winced and tried to pull away, however, he didn't have the strength. 39.1/102.4, the device read. "What's bothering you?", I asked him, not knowing what type of sick we were talking about here. Sick could range from a stomachache to something like tonsillitis. "Head, throat, ears, cough, dizzy", he simply listed off. "Oh Micky", I sighed, feeling sorry for the younger driver.

"Stop it with the nicknames", Mick complained. "Oh, I know you don't like Kleiner, but Micky is cute. I bet you love it, secretly". He didn't say anything, but by the blush that crept up on his pale cheeks, I could tell I was right. I measured out the correct amount of cough syrup and also handed Mick a glass of water with some paracetamol. "Thanks Seb". "Stop it with the nicknames", I mocked his accent. Mick started laughing and I just smiled, knowing this was just what he needed in this moment; some distractions and a lot of care. I combed my hands through his blonde locks and adjusted the pillow, so he would be laying down in a more comfortable position.

"Do you need anything else?", I asked. "No thanks". I sighed, knowing this was probably not true. "Let me ask the question differently. What do you need?", I said. Mick rolled his eyes slightly, but eventually gave in. "Just some tea with, uh, with-", he cut himself off. "I forgot the name". "*Sag es auf Deutsch". "*Mit Honing, bitte". I got him his tea and also ran to his trailer to get him the teddy he sleeps with when he's ill. It's a small, yellow bunny; it was quite cute to be honest. I entered the trailer again and saw Mick was scrolling through Twitter. "Nice sheets", he chuckled when he noticed I was back. I looked down at the minion bedsheets Mick had covered himself with. "Yeah, I accidentally took my daughter's sheets instead of my own ones".

"Want to watch Netflix?", he asked after a while. I nodded and started up my laptop, logging into my account. Mick wanted to watch 'The Hangover', so we watched the comedy, sharing some laughs together. "Seb, I'm tired". "Go to sleep Kleiner, I'll wake you up when it's time to eat", I told him, climbing off the bed, when I remembered something. I grabbed my backpack and got his teddy. "Here buddy". Mick's eyes lit up and he muttered a small 'thank you', before getting himself comfortable and snuggling with the bunny, drifting off barely 10 minutes later.

*

I took the two bowls of steaming hot soup to the bed and placed them on the bedside table, careful not to spill anything. I lightly shook the ill boy that was still sleeping soundly in the bed next to me. He groaned and covered his face with his hands, shielding himself from the bright light. I dimmed the light a little and closed the curtains, trying to make him more comfortable. Slowly, he began to wake up, letting out the occasional cough. Once he was sat up, I handed him the soup. "Not hungry", he protested, handing it back to me. "You need to eat, Mick. Not everything, but at least half of it. Okay?". He reluctantly agreed and shoved a spoonful of the food in his mouth, grimacing as it went down, the liquid irritating his throat. "It hurts", he croaked. I smiled sympathetically, encouraging him to take a couple more bites.

Eventually, he finished 2/5 of the bowl before he was too full. He laid back down and shivered visibly. He curled up in a ball and pulled the blankets up to his neck. I went to the kitchen to wash the dishes and clean up a bit, but was interrupted by a whimper coming from the other side of the trailer. I walked back, worried about my friend. "Can't sleep", he whined. I felt truly sorry for him and wondered what I could do for him. He stretched out his arms towards me. "Cuddle?", he asked. He looked so helpless and when he looked at me with his puppy eyes, I couldn't resist them and crawled into bed with him. As I had been feeling quite tired as well, it didn't take long before I was fast asleep, holding Mick protectively in my arms. He really is an angel, this kid.

Translations:

1: kleiner = little one

2: Sag es auf Deutsch = say it in German

3: Mit honing, bitte = with honey, please