Formula one sickfics/oneshots

Late night talks

People: Mick Schumacher, Lewis Hamilton

Ages: Mick Schumacher (24), Lewis Hamilton (38)

- POV Mick -

The sound of George's laughter slowly dies down as he walks through the building, towards the exit. He had had a surprisingly good qualifying today and he seemed to feel confident. I secretly envied him. He was carefree, which I think anyone would be if they were part of such a famous team and were finally noticing the car changing for the better. And it had changed, massively. I had driven in the sim until about 3 AM yesterday, which was way past my actual working hours, but I wanted to show the team that I was willing to put the work in. I know it sounds desperate, but there's nothing I would want more than to get a seat a Mercedes, or any formula one seat, for that matter.

I realized how unprofessional I looked, staring into the distance while I was supposed to be working. I immediately fixed my posture and redirected my attention to the laptop in front of me. I kept changing tabs, studying the data, then making notes of anything that could be helpful in any way and also noting down what I had personally noticed in the simulator, as well as all the comments George and Lewis had made during the debriefs.

Slowly, the atmosphere in the motorhome changed. It went from crowded and full of life, to almost eerily empty. The sun had long set outside and staring at the screen in the dark was starting to give me a headache, so I turned on one of the big lights. When I went to sit down, the world was spinning around and I had to brace myself to avoid passing out. Maybe I should've drank more water? After that little episode, all I was doing was basically staring at the screen, trying to get my brain to function, but my eyes got heavy and before I could do anything about it, I drifted off.

 - POV Lewis -

I walked back into the paddock with a few tubs of ice-cream. The mechanics had chosen to break the curfew tonight as a collision with one of the Aston Martins during qualifying, had caused significant damage to the car. I handed the ice-cream out to all the mechanics as I joined them, giving advice and encouragement, trying to keep the spirits up. We shared some laughs together and talked loads while they worked. I helped where I could, handing over their tools or advising them on certain dilemmas.

Around 2.30, the work to the car was almost done, except for a few finishing touches that would be taken care of in the morning. I thanked everyone for their hard work and dedication, before I walked out of the garage and went to leave. I wanted to head for the paddock exit and go straight to my hotel, when I noticed there was light coming from one of the offices on the top floor of the motorhome. I frowned as it was very unusual for any team member to work this late. My never-ending curiosity got the better of me, and I made a quick decision and decided to go have a look at what was going on. Maybe there was some sort of last-minute meeting I didn't know about?

As I walked up the stairs, the complete silence became more and more apparent. I realized this couldn't be a meeting, or I would've at least heard some sounds from upstairs. I pushed open the door to the office and that's when I spotted a man lying on his desk, sound asleep. As I stepped closer, I recognized that it was Mick, the reserve driver for Mercedes. I felt an overwhelming urge of protection wash over me, tiptoeing to the younger man and crouching down in front of him. I shook his shoulder, trying to wake him up. "Mick, wake up buddy", I encouraged, and it wasn't long before tired, confused eyes met mine.

"Wha-?", he said, stopping mid-sentence and staring around the room, taking everything in, before he sat up straight, turned his face away from me and instantly went back to his laptop. "Mick, no, it's 2.30. You need to go to sleep, work can wait till tomorrow", I reasoned, but he replied with a frantic shake of his head. "You don't get it. I need to put in the work, I need to show that I'm determined, I need to show that I deserve a seat. I don't care what you think, I NEED to do this. You don't understand. This is- ", he stammered out, but I was quick to interrupt him.

His hands were trembling as they tried and failed to type a coherent sentence. I grabbed both his hands in my tattooed ones, the worry for him, the only thing on my mind in this moment. "Hey, slow down. You're ranting, buddy. I know you think I don't get it and I know it feels you would do anything for a seat in F1, but this isn't going to get you anywhere. You've already showed your strength, your willpower, your work-ethic. The team knows what you're like and so do all the other teams. They appreciate you and everybody in the team is always talking about how Toto made the right decision by taking you onboard. You don't need to do this. Take a step back, look at what you've got and of course you need to put in the work, but not like this. Never like this", I told him.

Mick looked up at me, his eyes tired and glossy. I knew he needed to go to sleep, now I just needed to convince him of this. "Just go back to the hotel, get some rest, there's always tomorrow", I reminded him again. He stared at his lap, seemingly contemplating whether to listen to me or not. "Come on, buddy". I pressed the power-down button on his laptop, carefully placing it in his backpack. For a second, it seemed Mick was going to protest, but I just shushed him. "Shhh, let's get you to bed, come on", I spurred him on, pulling on his hand. Slowly, he rose from his chair and followed me, his sluggish movements making it clear that he was still overcome with sleep.

"I'll give you a lift. I can't trust you to drive all the way back in this state", I told him, my tone leaving no room for debate. "Are you sure?", he asked uncertainly. "Of course I am. I wouldn't have suggested if I wasn't", I assured him, lightly rubbing his back as I led him to the passenger door. He got in my car and buckled himself in, me getting in on the other side and starting up the car. I drove the 20 minute drive to the hotel, Mick having fallen asleep again, after we were merely 2 minutes in.

I roused him gently as I helped him out of the car upon arrival, handing my keys to the valet. Mick sleepily told me his room number, and I let him lean on my shoulders as I guided him to the right floor. Once we reached his room, I waited untill I saw him emerge from the bathroom in his pyjamas and crawl into bed. "Goodnight", I whispered into the room, before leaving quietly. About 10 minutes later, I curled up on myself in my own bed, but I couldn't get the image of a tired Mick out of my mind.

And of course, it was late, but I had never been gladder that I'm such a curious person.