F1/F2/F3 Oneshots

💔Nick Cassidy - Losses

Requested by: SonOfMelbourne

1000 Words

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Nick  was out fighting for the championship in a close battle,  when a horrible note came over the radio. You were sat in the garage with the team, your headphones securely on your head to ensure you didn't miss anything. 

"Mate, what's the battery at?" He queries through to the team who all look at the metrics. It's the last few laps of the race when they remember to check. "Sitting at about 5%. Shouldn't be having any issues." A panicked voice echoes back. "It's not firing like normal."

It doesn't take much longer for you to see the car not kicking out of the corners and eventually slowing down drastically on the straight. "Guys, Guys, GUYS! WHAT'S GOING ON!" The engineers are all grappling for an explanation since their data says he still had 2% "Keep going you still have battery." He puts all of his weight onto the accelerator and all he gets is a half-hearted jolt.

"It's flat." He declares to the team. He pulls the car over to the side but doesn't get out of the car. He sits there, numb. Trying to accept that he just lost a title campaign to what must have been a tech glitch for the team to be getting a different metric. 

He only gets out once the marshalls come to retrieve the car and he is left with no other option than to get out. He stands in the middle of nowhere. He's out of the way of the car but he stands with nothing left in him, empty, resigned, eyes unfocused.

~~ 

He finally gets back to the garage while the race finishes without him. He ignores the screens, ignores the team; heading straight for the driver's room. He sits on the couch and rips off his helmet. The shock  is wearing off, anger taking its place.

He almost throws his helmet when he hears knocking on the door, expecting an over-apologetic engineer to come in and try to justify the mistake. When the door opens, he stare daggers until his eyes immediately soften and seeing you walk in. 

He puts his head back down between his shoulders as you move over to the couch. Resting a gentle hand on his back rubbing soft circles up and down over his fireproofs. He doesn't know how to feel. He wasn't in the lead of the race or the championship but if he'd kept his position to the end he would have won by a point. 

Eventually, he caves and leans against you curling into you familiar warm scent. His face burrows into your neck. You decide to talk first, "We're all really proud you know." He does know that but he isn't proud of himself. He's disappointed in himself, in the car, in the circumstances.

He's disappointed that he is not a Formula E World Champion.

Nothing can change that at the moment. He has to accept that, but he doesn't want to. He pulls himself together and lifts his head up to look you in the eyes. "Thanks." There's no malice in it, pure numbness echoing through the cavern between you.

He stands up, gives you a kiss on the cheek and walks out. "I have to debrief" he states. You are left alone in the room, not fully sure what you can do for him. 

~~

Once he's done all the usual duties, plus o few more as the runner-up, He come back to you. "Can we go now." You were already packed up, putting away his kit from he's room as well. What strikes you most is not the desire to leave as soon as possible but the manner in which he asks. He seems unsure, not fully confident if he'll impose on you, not fully sure of what to do with himself now. The adrenaline has worn off now so he's just there. Not sure where to be next.

A part of him wants to stay at the track so he can be near where he can win. Part of him thinks if he stays there long enough he can redeem it. All he wanted today was to win, and he didn't. It takes him back to every time he came so close but was left behind, not on the top step but the second. Sometimes not even the second step but the third, or, none at all. 

You pull him out the that headspace by gently pulling his hand. "We can go now." You sweetly affirm. He takes the bag you packed up from the driver's room and his usual bag he brought in this morning. 

You walk slowly out the the car in a comfortable silence. He sits in the driver's seat, not willing to break away from routine. You both buckle in and drive to the hotel. The radio plays softly, just enough to keep his mind engaged and focussed on something other than the events of the day while your thumb slowly rubs his knee.

~~ 

When you finally make it to the hotel, he puts everything down and looks at you again. It's different this time, like he's himself again. He walks toward you and wraps his arms around you pulling you in close. "Sorry." He says, there's no sadness, just a simple statement. You sit down on the bed together. "What for?" You ask.

"I've been really caught up in winning for weeks and then I didn't so i ignored you this afternoon. I didn't mean to I guess I was just so confident that I'd come home I champion and I'm not." You cradle his head in your hands tenderly, "You're fine babe." He looks confused, "It's fine that you got too focussed on that for a while, it's fine that you weren't yourself this afternoon and it's fine that you aren't champion. It's all ok." He's caught off guard by that. He realises that to you, he's him. Not a prodigy, not a trophy but your boyfriend.

He rests his forehead against yours. "Thank you baby. For everything"

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~Hiiiii~

Tbh, I kinda like this one which is very rare. Sorry it took like a century for me to write this request and isn't super focussed on reader/OC. 

I'm taking part in the strike for Palestine this week so I encourage you to use your social media to interact and learn about that and to limit your economic activity as much as possible. I don't normally talk about the real world on here but this is a really easy way to help so I won't be on here all week.

Look after yourselves, stay hydrated, I love you sm :)