Chapter Text
The race ended just like every other time, without a single change.
The same repetitive routine and, at this point, almost sickening.
That simple, and that inevitable.
But that didn't matter, did it? Whether the outcome could be changed or not, when the driver destined to DNF already knew his car had an issue.
Arvid nearly reached the point of slamming into another driver as the truth replayed in his head over and over; when the main incident finally occurred, he punched his steering wheel in fury and struggled to slot himself back behind the safety car.
And from the moment the checkered flag waved, he was just waiting to get the car back to the garage so he could hurl his helmet somewhere—maybe even at Liam—and scream at his teammate.
That was his only plan for now, and as the minutes ticked by, his frustration grew into a burning rage.
Struggling to climb out of the car, the Brit didn't wait for a single word from any of the engineers; he simply tossed his helmet aside and, with heavy steps and shoulders hunched with tension, marched toward Liam’s driver room.
He knew he was in there; he’d been waiting for this moment since before the race even started, and his stomach was churning at what he was about to do.
"Go away," Liam finally said in a raspy voice after Arvid’s repeated knocking, and the boy just grumbled under his breath.
"I’m not leaving until we talk. Open the door!"
Silence.
Arvid let out an unhinged laugh at the other's audacity and knocked harder; he pounded on the door so rapidly and forcefully that his hands began to ache, until finally, the door swung open with a shove, revealing Liam standing there with a deep scowl.
"What do you want?!" the blond hissed, his voice far too loud for the setting. Arvid jumped slightly at his tone, but the reaction sparked something twisted inside him.
A frustration that had been piling up over several repetitive days was reaching its breaking point; the same mistake every time, the same DNF, the same damn lock-ups afterward, the same hollow look from Liam in the garage—and the fresh realization that he’d known all along, yet chose to race under those same conditions every single time.
It was as if Arvid hadn't spent days making changes, both small and large, trying to prevent the very incident that Liam willingly surrendered to every time.
Of course, the blond knew nothing about this, but that didn't stop Arvid from losing his sense of logic in that moment where everything collided. Now that this accumulated exhaustion from feeling useless was mixing with post-race adrenaline, every single muscle in his body tightened with fury.
Rage, not just from today’s crash, but from the fact that Liam seemed to be making zero effort to change the outcome; and that meant there was no chance of saving either of them from this repeating loop.
The younger boy took one deep breath before suddenly shoving Liam inside and stepping into the room after him. This time, he wasn't going to just watch and stay silent like before.
"HEY—"
"You knew!" Arvid screamed nearly in the man’s face before the New Zealander could voice his angry protest at the physical confrontation, slamming the door shut behind him.
The tension in the room had turned into something thick and suffocating. For a split second, Arvid noticed Liam’s shoulders slump in surprise and his eyes widen, but then he pressed his hand against the blond’s chest again, this time with more force, shoving him back as if trying to pour all his frustration and anger into that single push.
But Liam finally snapped back to reality after a few seconds, and before he could be shoved back again, he caught both of the younger boy’s hands in a tight, unintentional grip.
"ARVID, what the FUCK is wrong with you?"
Arvid hissed in pain but then gritted his teeth, struggling to break free from the man’s hold.
"You knew your car had a problem, so why did you race?!"
Liam, unable to process this sudden outburst of emotion, kept Arvid’s wrists held with a controlled pressure. His long fingers were clamped around the younger boy’s forearms like a vice. It was a grip meant not to hurt, but to still the storm. His face, inches away from Arvid’s flushed skin, was red with anger, but his eyes... his eyes were far more worried than just angry.
Liam felt his own heartbeat ringing in his ears as a sense of duty to control the situation crawled through his chest.
"Listen to me, Arvid!" the blond growled, his voice low and straining for control. "You’re crossing a line. It was just a racing incident!—"
Arvid ripped his hands away with a violent jerk. His wrists stung from the pressure of moments ago, but the physical pain only sharpened the fire of his rage. He backed away, not out of fear, but to give himself room to scream. He jabbed a finger toward Liam’s chest.
"a race incident? You’re talking to me about a race when you knew exactly what was going on with that car?"
Liam leaned back against the wall, raising his hands in the air—a classic defensive gesture, as if to say I’m not fighting you.
But the muscles in his neck were taut and his chest was heaving. "I made the choice to go out on that track! It was the team’s decision and i go one with it, Arvid. This is part of our job!"
So that’s what it was about. The team’s decision.
And our job? Arvid asked himself sarcastically.
Is a guaranteed DNF, a conscious choice, a silence mandated by the team, really 'part of the job'?
Arvid lunged at him with a laugh that sounded more like a nervous sob. He slammed his hand against Liam’s chest again, gripping his collar with fury and throwing his entire weight into pinning him against the wall. This time the shove was so sudden that the thud of Liam’s back hitting the wall echoed through the room, forcing a pained grunt out of the older man.
This was crossing a dangerous line. Every warning bell in the younger boy’s head began to wail, and for a split second, he regretted it—but then he drowned in the heat of their proximity again, reminded of the painful truth he’d discovered.
"This isn't doing the team's job! This is a suicide! And you… you were heading straight for it with your eyes wide open, and you didn't say a word to me even though I asked you about it!"
Liam suddenly grabbed both of Arvid’s hands that were tangled in his collar and, instead of pushing him away, he pulled him closer. The distance between them vanished in an instant, leaving Arvid breathless with surprise.
The blond was now so close that the boy could taste the bitter tang of sweat and adrenaline on his skin. His head was spinning from everything, and as he felt the warmth of the older boy's hands wrap around his wrists this time, he finally realized how far he’d gone.
But there was no turning back now, and Arvid finally wanted to take advantage of the fact that all of this would be erased by tomorrow morning—just to see how deep this rabbit hole can go.
Liam hissed into his face, his voice a low growl: "Because I didn't want you to find out! I don't owe you any answers, Lindblad, and I don't want your goddamn concern about my race! You’ve got the support of the entire team behind you, and now you have the nerve to come in here and scream at me about why I didn't say anything regarding something I have no control over?!"
Arvid paused. This confession—the bitterness in the New Zealander’s voice regarding the team’s support for him, hidden within that shout—hit him like a bucket of ice water.
A lot of things were starting to make sense now. In fact, everything was.
"So that’s what this is?" Arvid asked, his voice trembling from the sheer surge of emotion. "Is my relationship with you as a teammate so worthless that you don't trust me because of the team?"
It didn't make sense. Arvid was ready to beg anyone listening to explain at least one logical thing about this situation. Why the man who, just last night, was racing back to his hotel just to check if he was okay, was now acting so guarded and like a total stranger when Arvid returned the same care.
Liam ground his teeth, clearly trying with everything he had to keep his rage in check, but his eyes gave away something that no one was supposed to see.
But Arvid saw it. As always, he noticed the smallest shifts in Liam’s expression, and right now, he knew that no matter how much more he lashed out, the blond wouldn't do a thing in response.
Arvid saw how Liam remained completely defenseless against this aggression. He wasn't even trying to protect himself from Arvid’s senseless fury. And that drove Arvid further toward madness.
Why wasn't Liam saying anything? Why wouldn't he accept help?
Why was he standing there under his trembling hands as if he deserved this?
That in itself was alarming, but at that moment, Arvid could only think of one thing: why Liam was so defenseless against the most unfair treatment being thrown at him.
"No, that’s not it, Arvid, I—" He cut himself off, shifting his gaze helplessly from Arvid’s face to the ceiling. "Damn it, you don't understand! I’m trying to keep everything held together here, and you’re tearing it all apart with this crazy curiosity of yours!"
Arvid didn't let go of his collar. There was a tremor in his fingers now that was no longer born of rage. He listened to the thrum of Liam’s heart right beneath his palm; it was beating so fast and irregularly that he could tell the older boy was just as close to a breaking point as he was.
"You don't have to accept it, Liam. You don't have to submit to every single thing used against you just for the sake of the team's interests," Arvid whispered. His voice was no longer a scream, but held a deep, painful weight that came from the heart of these endless loops.
Liam finally locked eyes with Arvid. In that second, in that brutal proximity, the anger of both faded, replaced by something far more terrifying: a mutual understanding that neither of them was prepared for.
For a moment, the boy thought Liam would shove him back and break free from his grasp, but he just stood there, letting the puzzle pieces fall into place one by one in the Brit's mind.
Accepting team orders, Liam DNF-ing in the race right before Arvid’s eyes over and over again, and the fact that Liam had accepted it all.
Arvid stared into Liam’s eyes—eyes that no longer held anger, only a deep, chronic exhaustion that seemed to have been eating the blond from the inside for years, draining the light from those once green depths.
Arvid’s grip on Liam’s collar loosened. He understood now why Liam had stood there without reacting to his assault; it was because Liam had long ago surrendered to the entire world, to all those unfair team orders and forced DNFs.
The blond took a deep breath that pressed his chest against Arvid’s hands. The voice that came from his throat, unlike his previous screams, was painfully quiet.
"Do you think I enjoy having my car give out on those damn corners every time? Do you think I don't realize what it feels like when the team chooses me as the sacrificial pawn?"
Arvid felt the ground drop out from beneath him as realization hit him like a train. This wasn't just about Racing Bulls—if this whole thing was even just about a team order for this specific race. Liam was talking about his entire experience as a driver who had endured every kind of pressure, both in this team and at Red Bull.
Arvid lowered his hands from the New Zealander’s collar but didn't release his arms. "Then why? Why do you accept them? Why do you let them do this to you?"
Liam averted his gaze, though he could feel the slight tremor of Arvid’s hands on his arms. "Because I’ve been here long enough to understand the rules, Arvid. You still don't get it."
The blond took a deep breath and lowered his gray eyes again.
"I thought I could control the car, at least get it to the finish line. All the setups were prioritized for you this weekend, and there was truly no way to fix the car without starting from the pit lane. We both know there was no way I could make it into the points from there, and the team didn't want that. They needed both cars in the points after all those upgrades."
"And I really didn't have a problem with it—not with the lock-up, not with the fact that you’re the priority for this damn team. I’m just trying to last long enough on the grid so that at least…"
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
Arvid understood the whole story now, with the hard way.
The boy took a shaky breath and finally pulled his hands away from Liam’s arms, but he didn't step back. He just let his hands hang at his sides.
The silence in the room, filled only by their irregular breathing, felt heavier than ever.
Arvid fixed his gaze on the floor, on an unknown point. Shame crept up his spine like a cold current, making all his aggressive actions from moments ago seem ugly and unfair in his mind.
He slowly raised his hand and, with fingers that were still slightly trembling, clumsily smoothed out Liam’s collar, which had been wrinkled by his nonsensical action. Touching the fabric of Liam’s kit was the smallest thing he could do to compensate for that violent confrontation.
Liam’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, but Arvid chose not to pay it any more attention.
The adrenaline in his blood was already clouding his mind, and if he allowed the thoughts at the back of his brain to surface, things between them would become far more complicated than they already were.
The boy whispered in a voice that was barely audible, "For... for that... I’m sorry. I didn't mean to be so..." He left the sentence unfinished. He didn't know how to explain that his rage was actually a hidden concern for Liam without it sounding ridiculous.
So he just apologized. He apologized because he truly meant it; because the blond, for all his exhaustion, deserved the respect Arvid had denied him in those moments. That was all he could give him in those high-tension seconds.
Liam shrugged—a movement that looked more like a nervous tic to hide the pain in his back than a simple gesture of indifference. He pulled his gaze from the ceiling and locked it onto Arvid’s trembling eyes, seeing the genuine regret within them. Perhaps that was the reason he accepted the younger boy's half-baked apology: those large brown eyes.
But his own gray eyes were now too tired to build a fortress or defend himself, let alone shove the boy back, and that absolute surrender made the weight of guilt even heavier on Arvid’s shoulders.
"Tomorrow morning..."
Arvid whispered again, and this time he placed his hand on Liam’s shoulder for a moment—a very brief moment. But at the small flinch he felt beneath his touch, he quickly pulled his hand back. That involuntary reaction from the older boy hit Arvid like a slap to the face.
"Tomorrow morning, I’ll fix everything. I promise. You don't have to worry about any of these team orders... I’ll fix it."
It was a childish effort; words spoken in a single breath to perhaps cool that burning tension, or at least... to ease the guilt that was gnawing at his soul like a canker. Arvid knew this, but no other words came to mind at that moment.
He only tried to repeat the vague promises Liam had made on previous nights, praying in his heart that his manager wouldn't call him before midnight to reprimand him for this "savagery" and a potential HR complaint from Liam.
Liam gave a crooked, lifeless smile that didn't even reach his eyes, one that was purely sarcastic; a smile that said, 'You don’t understand, kid'. But he gave a weak nod of agreement nonetheless. He no longer had the energy to argue.
Or perhaps he was afraid Arvid would lunge at him again—the younger boy wasn't sure anymore.
Ignoring all of this, Arvid took a few steps back and took a deep breath. He wanted to say more; he wanted to beg, to apologize, to say that this wasn't the real him and that he would make it up to him.
But the bitter truth struck him like a sledgehammer: all of this would be erased from the world’s memory in a few hours—including Liam's.
Everyone’s, except his own.
So, before his mind could betray him and lead him to do something else foolish—like stepping forward, pulling the man into an embrace, and begging for forgiveness through sobs—he headed for the door.
He gripped the cold metal handle, but before leaving, he paused for a second. He turned in a glance and looked once more at Liam, who now stood alone in the middle of the room under the lifeless fluorescent light, looking back with shame.
It was a familiar frame, but now the rules had changed.
And in that moment, when it felt as though they were the only two people in the entire universe, Arvid realized the worst part of the whole night.
Liam was far too calm for someone who had just been shoved against a wall by his younger teammate. He hadn't pushed back once; he hadn't returned a single ounce of the nervous aggression Arvid had forced upon him. Instead, he had simply let Arvid vent every bit of his pressure and rage onto him.
The Brit didn't know how to react to that reality—or if a reaction was even possible anymore.
The room was silent now. The physical tension had ebbed away, but the weight of what had transpired between them still rippled through the air.
Without another word, the teenager opened the door and vanished into the hallway, leaving Liam alone, hurt, and burdened with a thousand questions in that room.
"I’ll fix it," he repeated in his frantic mind. He had sworn it, just like every other time he’d messed up. But it didn't matter how many times he told himself that all of this would be forgotten by tomorrow morning.
That shocked look in Liam’s eyes and the tremor in his shoulder beneath Arvid’s hand remained like a burned image on his retinas. Arvid was so disgusted with himself and so distraught by the situation that he didn't even realize how he’d made it from the track to the hotel, or when he’d reached his bed. All he could hear echoing in his head was the sound of Liam’s back hitting the wall.
At some point during the night, Kimi called him.
In fact, he called several times before Arvid finally decided whether or not he wanted to answer.
"Isack wants to kill you."
That was the first thing the Italian decided to say after Arvid put the phone to his ear, pressing the bridge of his nose while staring at the ceiling.
"When is he coming? If he doesn’t have my hotel address, I can send it to him," the Brit said with total seriousness, causing Kimi to sigh.
"I really messed up."
"Yeah... what even happened between you two all of a sudden?"
Arvid put the phone on speaker and sat up straight on the bed.
"Kimi, I finally figured out the problem—Liam... Liam knew his car had a technical issue. Not just him; even his engineer and the team knew, but they did nothing! Apparently, they told him they couldn't risk a pit lane start and that both cars had to finish in the points no matter what."
He explained in a raspy voice, his tone trembling when he mentioned Liam’s name.
"And he!—He didn't even complain. I saw his reaction after it happened; he was even willing to blame himself rather than the team or the car."
Arvid desperately explained the garage situation, feeling grateful that Kimi listened to everything without forcing him to explain further details or interrupting.
"So you decided... to storm into his driver's room and beat his ass? Are you serious?" Kimi asked in a low, judgmental voice. The younger boy hid his face in both hands in shame.
Okay, he deserved it; he deserved even worse.
"Oh god... what did Isack—"
"He didn't explain much. He just said the next time he sees you, he'll make sure you won't even dare to breathe the same air as Liam," the Italian answered quickly.
The threat hit Arvid like cold water, leaving him staring at an unknown point for several seconds as he swallowed hard. Imagining what Liam might have told Isack—or what state Isack had found Liam in—made his stomach churn with stress and his head grow heavy with guilt.
Kimi noticed the meaningful silence over the phone, so he cleared his throat and regained his attention.
"He was really angry, even though he was mostly talking to himself in French but I could definitely understand the phrase whipping your ass_."
"I... there's no excuse, but I really didn't mean to—and i didn't actually beat him I swear, it was...a really heated moment, and u wasn'tin the right mind"
Arvid felt shame wash over him like cold water again, and his hands began to tremble once more as he tried his hardest to keep the tears from welling up. He didn't deserve to cry, not now. Not after he had messed up this badly.
And if Isack Hadjar, the grid’s certified boxer, came here right now and took revenge for what he’d done to Liam—or even worse—in these final hours of the day so that he could still feel the pain tomorrow, Arvid wouldn't fight back. Just as Liam hadn't done a single thing when Arvid shoved him.
"At least everything resets tomorrow, right?"
Kimi must have sensed his tension through the phone because he spoke in a consoling tone, and Arvid let out a shaky sigh.
"I don't know what to do anymore, Kimi. I'm so tired."
A small sob escaped the younger boy's throat, and he lay back down on the bed in distress.
"In my opinion, talk to Max about it. He might be able to guide you better than any of us, and I believe he knows Liam in his own way. If you really think the change you need to make is about Liam’s crash, then try it. What could be worse than missing a whole race or hurting Liam?"
Oh.
Oh, Kimi really had a point.
The Italian, who was usually all jokes and laughter, was now with total seriousness pointing out his two biggest mistakes of the past few days, and Arvid was certain he had accidentally pulled out a few strands of hair while clutching at his messy curls.
"Okay. Oh god... okay."
He took a few deep breaths and felt Kimi shift on the other end of the line.
"I’ll fix it, Kimi. I’ll really try."
The Brit promised—to himself, to the universe, and to the boy on the other end of the line.
"Now that's the spirit!"
A bit of the usual cheerful tone returned to Kimi’s voice, and Arvid felt a small fraction of the weight being lifted from his shoulders.
It was a quick goodbye, quicker than Arvid wanted, but Kimi told him to think carefully about his next steps and that he shouldn't let this situation negatively impact his mental state, because in the end, the only person who could help him... was himself.
And Arvid understood that. He truly heard the warning in Kimi’s voice and knew what he meant. Don't go insane in the middle of all this—that was the message, and he got it loud and clear, thank you very much for your concern, Kimi; he said that to himself.
But Arvid had never thought this much about the idea that maybe he actually needed to be hurt to come to his senses. He hanged up the phone he thought that Liam really should have landed at least one punch in return.
Not that he couldn't; Liam was physically strong enough to easily knock someone like Arvid to the ground. But he chose not to. He chose to stand there and let Arvid scream in his face while clutching his collar and shoving him around.
The boy’s internal clock was ticking in his head again, and he knew he didn't have much time for sleep. So he just swallowed his guilt and, with a cluttered mind and muscles locked in tension, crawled under the covers, praying that Max would somehow have all the answers, just as Kimi claimed.
Arvid didn't know it, but that night, as he tossed and turned, burying his head into his pillow repeatedly trying to sleep and finally reach the next loop, the voice of the Roaring was watching him with dissatisfaction. For a brief few seconds, which could have felt like centuries to mortals, she wanted to end the cycle right there—just so the lesson being taught to the boy would be complete and he would spend the rest of his life living with the consequences of his actions.
But the Lady felt sympathy for the younger boy when his exhausted soul was finally brought into the rivers with deep sorrow, and she decided to place one more chance before him.
"Find your way, little tiger. I know you can."
And after that, the waves engulfed Arvid once again, and he woke up to the familiar 6:00 AM alarm.