The Right Time (Lestappen)

Red Flag

TW: There are mentions of Jules and Anthoine and there is a crash. So just a warning, if you are not in the right headspace, this is not a happy chapter!🥺

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"Red Flag. Repeat that's a red flag Charles make your way back to the pits"

The slight crackle over the team radio couldn't quite hide the concern in his race engineers voice but Charles didn't need to ask who was involved, he had seen it play out in front of his eyes.

The Red Bull had flown straight off the track, clipping a barrier that sent it careering across the gravel, flipping over as it flew uncontrollably through the air. The debris spread wildly in all directions, a spray of missiles coming at Charles as he tried to manoeuvre his car around the pieces of carbon fibre. As the car ahead hurtled toward a tire wall Charles felt himself bracing for impact. From his position he was sure he could hear the impact as the car hit the wall, a deep thud that made his heart stop. The Red Bull flipped one more time, seemingly breaking into a million pieces on impact with the tyre barrier. What was left of the mangled car was pinned against the barrier. It looked like a crash from a Hollywood movie where the hero would inexplicably get out of the car unscathed. But this was no movie and there was no movement from the cockpit.

A flurry of radio messages came in from the grid asking about Max's condition, all were given a similar response 'We're waiting to hear'. It was not the answer anybody wanted. Charles remained silent, unable to speak as fear gripped his body. He tried to focus on the track ahead, focus on slowing down, avoiding the other cars, making his way back to the garage. He tried to focus on the practical because if he had focused on anything else he would have fallen apart.

Seeing another driver, whoever they were, in an accident always filled him with a sense of dread. It was easy sometimes to forget about the dangers involved in the sport. If he had thought about the risks too much he would probably never have stepped foot in a race car. He allowed himself to feel safe because that was the only way he could drive on the edge. But he was never able to fully switch off his feelings and as soon as he saw a car going off track his mind instantly went to his godfather Jules and friend Anthoine.

But this wasn't just another driver, this was Max. He felt sick, he felt angry but above all else he felt guilty. He could never have saved Jules or Anthoine but if he had followed his instincts then he could have saved Max. He shook his head at that thought, that he had already given up on Max, already thought the worst. Yet still there was no message from his engineer to say Max had made any contact over the radio. If only he had spoken up sooner this could have been avoided entirely.

After Max's first crash in Spa Charles had begged Max to speak to some but now, as there was nothing but silence from the Red Bull cockpit, he couldn't help but think he had not been forceful enough. Hindsight was a wonderful thing but he knew he should have demanded Max speak to a doctor or his team, he should have demanded that Max get help. The thought made his eyes fill with tears.

Max had been so adamant though, too worried about the possibility of having to give up something he loved so much. The thought of not being able to race had been unbearable, especially as he was leading the championship. He had already been through so much that Charles just wanted him to be happy and had kept quiet. Max had been sure that any mention of black outs would mean a termination of his contract or at the very least mean he had to sit on the sidelines for the rest of the season. No team could risk having a driver who was likely to pass out mid race, it would be beyond dangerous. Unfortunately he had been right about the danger. As Charles pictured the mangled heap of carbon connecting with the barrier he couldn't help but think that Max may now be missing out on more than the rest of the season.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to hold back the tears as he slowly made his way back to the garage. The last couple of weeks had been so good and he had naively let himself believe that Max was better. They had spent practically every minute in each other's company, even sharing the podium in Singapore before going back to their hotel room to celebrate together. Max had gladly dropped to his knees drinking in every inch of his boyfriend before lifting the younger man up and pinning him against the door of the hotel. After finally catching their breath they had ordered room service. Lots of room service to be precise. If Charles' trainer could have seen the size of the cake that he had eaten he surely would have chained him to the treadmill for the next week. The whole weekend had been amazing and Max had seemed nothing but content.

Even during the flight to China they had been making plans for the future. Max had excitedly been talking about the foundation he wanted to set up to help encourage and help those who identify as LGBTQ get into motorsport. It was nice to see the Dutchman so enthusiastic and though it was early stages he seemed committed to making a difference. Max hoped that it could eventually form part of his racing legacy, along with a few world championship of course. Charles could almost scream as he thought back to the conversation. They were building a future together, everything was going to be perfect. They would get married, have long successful careers and then retire with a couple of children. Now rather than look to marriage and children he could only think a few minutes ahead, to receiving that radio call that Max was up and out of the car.

Maybe he had missed the signs. It had been so stupid to think that Max could get over his trauma so quickly. There had still been nightmares, Max clutching at his chest as he shot up in bed. Then there had been Monza, passing out in a back street all alone. When Charles thought really hard about it, there were other signs. The cut on Max's lip that he said happened when he tripped and fell or the time he had walked in on Max hiding in the corner of the room knees clutched to his chest. Of course Max had not completely healed. Of course it was dangerous to let him drive until they had gotten him professional help. Charles couldn't help but think he had let his boyfriend down when he needed him the most. He just hoped it wasn't too late. As he pulled up to the pits he sat in the cockpit saying a silent prayer that everything was going to be okay. As he looked across at the worried faces on the pit wall his heart sank. 

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I'm so sorry about this 🥺!!! But this book is getting nearer to the end so of course there is some more drama! Next chapter will be Tuesday/Wednesday. 

As always thank you for reading and all the votes and comments so far <3 <3