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The first thing Checo registered was the sound of a voice.
He couldn't see, it was all pitch black. He couldn't feel his body, he couldn't speak. But he could hear a man and a woman talking. He didn't recognize either of the voices, but he just kept trying to speak, to open his eyes, to force his body to do anything. But to no avail.
Who are you?
Where am I?
What happened?
Checo thought they were speaking German but he couldn't understand half of what they were saying. Suddenly it seemed like his mind had enough, and he lost awareness again.
o-o-o-o-o
He gained consciousness. But still, he couldn't see a thing. He managed to stay "awake" long enough to wonder where he was, what on Earth had happened. He heard some people come and go, speaking so softly he couldn't make out what they were saying.
Until he heard a voice he recognized. Loud and clear as only he could be.
-"Sergio."
Toto! What happened? Where am I? We were at the race but then I think something happened to me and I don't remember. Checo couldn't speak, but his mind had been awake for a while and now it was thinking at the speed of light, desperate for some answers.
-"You're probably wanting to see someone else, right now. Well, I bet there are many people you would rather have here than me. After all, this is the first time the doctors have allowed visitors. But Charles..." Toto left the sentence hanging.
Charles what? Toto, what happened to Charles? Where is he? Gosh, why can't I speak?!
-"Charles..." he started again. "he's taking it hard. He's been trying to make it look like he's handling it...but I guess it's not everyday that you see your partner's car crash and go up in flames." Toto's voice dropped with every word, as if he was dreading to say it.
Crash? Did he crash during the race?
-"If I had just looked at the data more throughly, dammit." Toto kept talking in a clipped voice. "You kept telling us something felt wrong with the car yet we brushed it off because we couldn't find anything."
The memories hit him like a brick. He kept talking to his engineers. He told them the car felt off, that something wasn't right when he was braking. They told him to keep going, that everything seemed okay.
Until he lost control entering a sharp corner. He felt his car leave the ground. Then, nothing. Then it was hot, way too hot. He remembers hearing Charles' voice, and maybe Max's? Then it was all a blur of shouts and colors and pain. Then again, nothing.
-"I sent the data and your car -or, what was left of it- straight to Stuttgart. I went through all of the data and material myself. You were right." Toto explained. "That car shouldn't have even been on the track. The computer was not registering properly, the entire braking system had flaws, the balance was all over the place, there was a leak. Not even the goddamn seatbelt was working." Toto scoffed at that last phrase. Checo knew he was reproaching himself, wondering how on Earth he had missed all of this.
-"Thankfully, Max acted quick and managed to cut it open so Charles and him could pull you out of the car. " Toto continued.
So Max was really there. Sergio then remembered, he was in the lead, but Charles and Max were fighting for P2 a few seconds behind him. Makes sense that they were the first to get to him.
-"They are fine by the way. Charles and Max. The suits kept them safe from the flames." Toto said as an afterthought.
Good, at least they were not injured. Those two, what were they thinking, throwing themselves into a blazing car?
-"I had to basically force Charles to go back to the hotel to shower and get some sleep. Otherwise I'm pretty sure he would still be in the waiting room, still with his suit on." Toto said. "He really loves you, Sergio."
Thank you, for looking after him for me, Toto. Knowing Charles, I'm sure he needs it.
-"And...I'm so, so sorry I did this to you, to both of you." There were no indication of tears in his team principal's voice, but Checo had never heard him sound so heartbroken. "I am your team's principal, I am responsible for your safety. And I failed so badly. I'm sorry Sergio, for you and Charles. This is my fault."
Toto, we've all been racing since we were children. We all know the risks. It's okay, seriously, don't hold yourself responsible for this. I've always known this could happen.
Checo's mind flashed to that day he crashed against Saavedra and the latter drove his car over Checo's in a fit of rage. He saw the tire moving in on him, aimed at his head. He had never felt so close to death as in that moment. That was the time it truly sank in, that he was risking his life every time he got into his car. But he had accepted it, had come to terms with it. No one forced him to get in the car. For fuck's sake, his family didn't drive at 300 km an hour for living, yet they all ended up dead when his private airplane went down as they went to visit him a few years ago. Checo had learned, through the hardest of ways, that death had no preferences and waited for no one.
So he held this against no one.
Toto, it's okay. Really, please don't put yourself down for this. I don't hold this against you. I still want you and Suzie by my side when I wait for Charles down the aisle. You're still the closest thing I have to my parents since they passed.
-"I hope you can forgive me when you wake up, Sergio. Once you're off the tube and much better. Please get better."
There's nothing to forgive, Toto. But I will wake up. I hope I do.
o-o-o-o-o
-"Checo."
He would look surprised if he could.
Max.
His name wasn't said with the indifference, and sometimes even anger that became the usual during his last few seasons in Red Bull. Checo knew how a sad Max sounded like, he heard it more than enough times throughout the years.
-"Fuck, what happened to you?" Max said. "I thought the suit would protect you better but...you were under the fire for so long. Fucking seatbelt." He was whispering, but Checo could hear every word crystal clear.
Toto said you and Charles pulled me out of the car. That you cut the seatbelt open. Thank you, Max, really.
Checo heard Max sigh before he spoke again. "It's incredible out there, mate. People are all gathered outside of the hospital with candles and banners, praying for you to recover."
Really? Wow...I don't know what to say...well if I could even say anything.
-"I'm also praying for you." Max began whispering again. "I...you...none of this would have happened if you had stayed with Red Bull. They would have made sure the car was good to go."
You're really going to call me out on that right now, Max?
To anyone else, this would have been a dick move, one of those that gave Max his (somewhat earned) reputation. But Checo knew Max better than most. At one point, he was probably the person who knew him best in the world. And this was Max trying to cope. That's how he built up a skin thick enough to not crumble under the pressure set by his father since he was a child. He channeled everything into anger. It's what he did, so Checo didn't take any offense in it.
-"What am I even saying. Gosh...I-I don't know." Max continued. "I've always behaved like the biggest asshole to you, haven't I?"
No, Max, don't put yourself down like that. Once, I thought no one would speak or look at me as lovingly as you did.
-"And even now I am still saying hurtful things. Charles would have probably knocked my teeth out if he'd heard me." He laughed without an ounce of humor. Checo would have chuckled if he could, too.
I can't answer for him, but you might be right.
Years have passed, but to this day, no one has matched his sense of humor quite like Max. No one else has the right mix of mischievousness, sarcasm and sassiness that they do. Not even Charles.
-"I know about you two, by the way." The Dutch said. "I saw the ring in Charles' finger when they were checking his hands in the ER. I guess I knew it would be yours before he even admitted it. Don't worry, I won't tell."
I trust you, Max. And to be honest, I don't know how we've managed to keep it under wraps for so long. Both of us are terrible at keeping secrets. We were waiting until the off season to get married and then tell everyone.
-"But you know what, looking back on it I don't know how on Earth I didn't figure it out sooner." The scraping of a chair against the floor told Checo that Max was getting comfortable. "The way you look at him...it's like the way you used to look at me once." The sadness in Max's voice was palpable.
-"But I had to be an idiot and listen to my father. I had to ruin us, and when I realized I had thrown away the most amazing part of my life, it was too late. I had already lost you." Checo couldn't help it, he pitied the Dutchman right there, even though he knew Max would hate it if he found out and explicitly asked him a few years ago to never do it.
-"But...I am happy about you and Charles. Deep down. I've known him since we were children, and so I'm sure he's good for you. He won't hurt you like I did."
Checo is still trying not to pity Max, unsuccessfully. Of course Checo had lingering feelings for Max after they broke up, which made being his teammate for two more years almost excruciatingly painful. But after he left Red Bull, the distance from Max, although painful at first, did its job. He matured, he healed. And eventually, got together with the person he could confidently call the love of his life.
It seems, however, that Max had never fully managed to close that chapter.
-"So please," Max started again. "Please live, Sergio. For yourself, and Charles and all of us who love you." The last few words sounded like they were getting stuck in his throat. "And so I can tell you...how truly sorry I am." Checo could now hear the waterworks clearly, and it threw him off bad.
Max Verstappen never cried tears of sadness. He shed tears of joy, and anger. But never sadness.
-"I'm so sorry, Checo. For everything. For Brazil, for never admitting I was wrong, for mistrusting you. For not realizing I had the best person in the world by my side and how awful I was being to them. I'm sorry I got carried away by my father's stupid ideas. I'm so sorry we lost this beautiful thing we had, all because I broke it beyond repair."
Max was full on sobbing now, muffled, probably because he covered his face with his hands. Checo would probably be crying too, if he could.
All these years, the only lingering, nagging thought Checo had of Max regarding his time in Red Bull, was that damn race. But not because he ever wanted Max to admit he was wrong. He just wanted to know he was sorry. Checo would have forgiven him right away had he said it, he was weak for Max and never tried to hide it.
But he was the oldest, he should have also approached Max while there was still time. He, too carried some blame in it.
Oh Max, I'm sorry, too. I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were still feeling like this. We should have solved this years ago.
-"And now, I don't even get to tell you while you're awake." Another sob cut him off. "I am such a coward."
Max Verstappen, calling himself a coward?
-"So I need you to wake up, Checo, please." The younger kept going. "I know you don't hold the same feelings for me as I still do for you, anymore. And that's okay, because you have never looked happier."
Max...
Checo hated to admit it, because even after everything, he didn't want to shove aside and minimize his relationship with Max. At one point, F1 and the younger were absolutely everything to him, holding on to them like a lifeline as he pulled out of the depression left by his family's accident.
But he couldn't help but feel it. How everything was just so much easier with Charles. There was no explosive fights, no tantrums, no battle of the egos, nor giving each other the cold shoulder for days. Even when they were neck and neck for the Championship and Checo won in the last race of the season, the spark in the Monegasque's eyes didn't dim in the slightest. He still looked at him with every ounce of love and fondness he would muster. And he did the same when Charles took the title away from him a year later.
-"But I still love you." The whisper in combination with Max's still fresh tears would have made it almost impossible for Checo to understand, but it sounded like he was whispering right into his ear. "I'm not surprised you've missed it. Looking back, you've only had eyes for Charles for a while. I'll probably always love you, in a way. So I need to see you alive and well. Even if it's not with me, I need you here. I can't live with myself knowing you may never know how sorry I am, even if you tell me to fuck off, which I wouldn't blame you for."
No, Max. I need to apologize to you, too. It was also my fault and I'm so stupid it took this for me to realize, all these years later.
-"I love you, Sergio." Max whispered again. "And I hope that, the next time I see you, you're awake." Checo heard the sound of the chair again, then silence. He was alone.
Checo had gotten over his feelings for Max years ago. Their relationship was a learning experience. He loved, lost, grieved, matured, and learned to love again. He eventually, came to think back on his days with Max with a nostalgic and bittersweet feeling. And all those mistakes he made with Max, he never did again with Charles.
But in that moment, he wished the way things ended had been different. What he had with Max was so special, he learned to love someone again when he was almost sure he would never be able to after he lost his family. With Max, he regained his purpose, as a driver, and as a person. He realized his heart was not completely gone, there was still a lot left to love and be loved. He truly came to think Max would be "the one".
It shouldn't have ended the way it did. With so much anger, bitterness, remorse and misunderstanding. Two people who once swore their love to each other so fervently and ended up being little more than just fellow F1 drivers. Even if their relationship couldn't be saved, maybe their friendship would have. Had they both not let their own pride and anger get in the way.
It was too late for that, but maybe it was not too late to apologize to Max. When he wakes up.
o-o-o-o-o
-"Hey."
It was one word. But that was enough to bring Checo back faster than if he had been hit with a sledgehammer. That voice, he would know that voice even in death.
Charles.
-"The doctors said that it could be good for you if you heard the sound of my voice." Checo may only have a working hearing, but he would have to be dead to miss they way Charles voice caught in his throat. "But I don't know how to even start without...without..."
Checo could hear the sobs, the crying. He felt the desperate need to move, to get up and embrace Charles. To offer as much comfort as he could as he's done so many times before throughout the years. To let him hide his face in his shoulder because Charles hated it when people saw him cry. He cursed his current state for the nth time, he couldn't even hug the man he loved as he cried his heart out next to his bed.
-"I'm sorry." Charles started again after a couple of minutes of sobs. "I'm really trying to be strong for you. Because you're here, with a tube down your throat and your lungs burned to a crisp. When you need me. That's what a husband is supposed to do, right?"
If Checo could feel anything, he would be sure the word "husband" would have made his heart clench.
-"And instead of doing that, I break down crying the first time I get to talk to you." Charles sounded so broken. "I just can't stand seeing you like this. I guess I am so used to you being my support, my rock, that I still don't know how to work the other way around."
The irony of it all, seeing that Checo's frustrations arose from the same problem. He was the one Charles' could lean on, and now he was not only unable to do so, but was the reason behind his fiancé's distress.
-"But I guess there's not a lot I feel like saying right now, except, please hold on." Charles' voice broke at the end of the sentence. "Because I will try to do the same."
-Yes, love. I will try, for both of us.
o-o-o-o-o
Time passed, but Checo wasn't even sure how long. However, he knew that something was wrong. Something was going downhill. He could hear the way the doctors and nurses spoke, the clipped tone of their voices even if he couldn't understand it much. He felt it in the way the moments of lucid thoughts lasted less and less. He wasn't sure, but he assumed he also spent more time out of his mind.
Sometimes he heard Toto, sometimes one of his friends, or a cousin. He never heard Max again. Maybe he came when Checo's mind was not there, maybe he never came at all.
Most of the times, though, it was Charles.
The first few times, the tears were clearly distinguishable in his words. Sometimes, he cut it off entirely, and Checo could only hear his sobbing. It never fail to put another crack on his heart, and the helplessness never faded away.
Some other times, Charles was on a better mood. He wasn't the lively, cheerful, loud man Checo knew, but at least he could talk without breaking down. He talked about the most trivial things those days: his piano, Checo's cats that he was still looking after, a particularly good dish he had cooked, even a silly new game on his phone. Inconsequential, but Checo didn't care. He could hear Charles talk about the stock exchange for hours on end and never get bored.
It became more and more frequent that Checo slipped away before Charles left. He lost him in the middle of a conversation, and when he gained sense of self again, his fiancé was gone. He was no doctor, but he knew this was a bad sign. And so, every time he felt he was about to slip away, he bid Charles goodbye and said he loved him, in case it was the last time. In case he never got to hear the Monegasque's beautiful voice ever again.
-"Hey." it was Charles.
Hey, love. Always good to hear you.
Checo heard a sigh. He imagined Charles was fidgeting. He had a way with words, so when he was quiet, it usually was because he was avoiding something.
-"I..." there was a long pause until the younger spoke again. "I spoke to the doctors today."
Another pause, Checo knew this couldn't be good if Charles was stalling so much.
-"They said that-that they're doing everything they can. But...you are deteriorating quickly and they said...they said you might not make it past tonight." The last word got caught in Charles' throat .
Oh.
So this is it, then. He's going to die.
For what seemed like forever, the only sound Checo could hear was Charles' crying. Muffled, but close. He could almost picture him, lying against his bed, his face hidden behind his arms. He longed, once again, to be able to touch him. At least with a finger. To show him he was listening, to try and offer some sort of comfort.
But Checo could do nothing but listen in silence as his fiancé cried and he came to terms with his own death himself.
It's okay. I've felt it coming for a while. I knew something was up. It's okay, love.
As if Charles had heard him, he stopped crying, and cleaned his nose. "And I...I don't want you to suffer anymore. It hurts my heart to see you like this, " A space. "and so, if you're ready to let go, you can. I'll handle it, I promise."
Charles, please don't cry. I feel like the biggest failure of a fiancé in the world, I can't even comfort you right now. I'm so sorry, love. But I am glad I get to listen to your voice once more.
-"I know how much you've missed your family, so go meet them. And say hi to Anthoine, Jules and my dad for me." He almost sounded like he was smiling in the last part.
We will all look after you from wherever it is that we may be, that I swear. I'm just...sorry I never got to meet you down the aisle. I never had the opportunity to call you my husband, to adopt the kids we've talked about so many times before. But at least I got to call you the love my life. I got to be yours for a while, and to call you mine. No one can take that away from me, from us.
Once again, silence. If it weren't for the occasional heavy breath Charles took, Checo would have thought he left.
-"Gosh, what am I even saying?!" Charles' outburst took Checo by surprise. "No, Sergio. I'm not ready for you to go. Please don't leave me, please. I can't lose you, too." Charles stopped talking once again and the crying resumed.
Checo's mind was blank for a moment. Trying to process it all. His fiancé seemed to have come to terms with his death a few minutes ago, yet he was now sobbing, begging for him to stay.
It made him come to the realization that he wasn't actually ready to die. What was he even thinking? He's not even 40. There was so much he still wanted to do. He wanted to get on his racing car again, he wanted to try and win more races, and aim for his second World Championship. He wanted to keep on spreading the love for Formula 1 in his country, and to keep making everyone in Mexico proud every time he got into his car. He wanted to beat every circuit out there.
He wanted to make amends with Max. To tell him how sorry he was, that he too, should have taken a more mature approach to things. He wanted to see if, maybe, they could still be friends. He wanted people to stop apologizing and asking for forgiveness at his bedside. He was no saint, he wanted to tell all these people to stop, and that he needed to apologize for things, too.
He wanted to marry Charles, to be able to call him his husband and to make a life with him. To wake up again to the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He wanted to make him laugh they way only he could. To chuckle every time he got frustrated and started speaking a weird mix of French, Italian and English. He wanted to listen to his piano when inspiration stroke, to listen to all the pieces Charles was sometimes too shy to play for Checo, usually because they were composed with him in mind.
He wanted another day to love him. He wanted another day to just live.
-"I'm such a selfish bastard." Charles said. "I see you now, how hurt you are. All wired up and full of tubes everywhere in your body. I bet you're suffering...yet I am the idiot that's crying, asking you to stay. All because I am too weak to let you go."
I don't want to leave you, love. I really don't. And I'm so sorry we didn't get to live the life we talked so much about.
The crying had gone from full on sobbing to something a bit more quiet, but Checo could hear it right by his ear. He figured Charles was sitting by his bed, leaning his head close to his, perhaps holding his hand.
Please don't put this on Toto and the team. It was just a mistake, love. You know how well they've taken care of us, how much they all love us. I hope you don't stop racing, because, as much as it's taken away from you, it's also given you so much. And I know how happy it makes you. So, yes. Please keep racing, for both of us. Keep showing them we're the best.
-"I love you so much, Sergio." Charles whispered. "I can't believe it took us to be teammates for me to figure it out, we've known each other for years. All that time, wasted."
Don't see it that way, neither you nor I were ready at that time, we got together when it was meant to be. And it was beautiful, and perfect, and so full of love. So, thank you, Charles.
That's when Checo started feeling himself slipping away. Looked like this time, it was going to be for good. This was it.
-"Je t'aime, mon amour." Was the last thing he heard Charles say, barely a whisper, but Checo felt it to his soul. Charles almost never said he loved him in French. There were a lot of "I love you" from both sides, but something about saying it in his mother tongue felt so intense and intimate, he usually just said it on special occasions. He could count it with a hand: the first time, was the day Checo let him through to win Monaco for the first time in his career. It was say before they even got together, Charles had been a whirlwind of emotions that day, and "it just came out", as the younger would describe years down the line.
The second time, was the first night they spent together. After they started dating, both had agreed to take things slow, and had kept things sweet and simple for months, testing the waters, seeing if they were as compatible as a couple as they were as teammates. It was like getting to know each other all over again and Sergio loved every bit of it, loved every bit of Charles. It was curious how, in a relationship they were being so careful to nurture and care for, their first time together came spontaneously. They just started kissing one night and both came to the unspoken agreement that they had waited long enough and were ready. Once it was over, and they were laying side by side, Charles caressed his face gently, with the tip of his fingertips, as if committing it to memory. Sergio grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles. Charles smiled that smile that wasn't the biggest, or the brightest, but it was so sincere and -as Sergio would learn down the line- reserved only for him. Charles said he loved him in a whisper, not wanting to break the beautiful afterglow they were wrapped in.
The third time, was the day he asked Charles to marry him. Just during the last winter break, they spent some time in Checo's house in Puerto Vallarta. Having been together for 4 years, now in their thirties, marriage was a topic that had already came up more than once. Charles had made it clear for a while now that he would not say no if Checo asked. But that didn't stop the older from being a nervous wreck on the days leading up to it, wanting everything to be perfect.
After he had gotten down on one knee, once Charles had dried up his tears and they were just embracing, leaning their foreheads against one another, it was that the younger man said the magic words again. And Sergio felt his heart swell with so much love he felt it could burst through his chest.
And now, the day they say goodbye, forever. Checo was counting on their wedding day to be the fourth, but it seemed like life -or rather, death- had other plans. He would give anything to be able to say it back, but thinking it would have to do.
Adiós, Charles. Te amo.
o-o-o-o-o
-"-gio. Sergio....Mr. Sergio, can you hear me?"
Uh? Who's talking? What's going on? Am I dead?
Sergio felt a splitting headache the second he gained consciousness. But this time, he was able to open his eyes. The light made him squint as it made the headache worse, but he resisted the urge to close his eyes again and forced them to focus a bit. He was met with a bunch of blurry, white figures.
-"Well done, Sergio, welcome back." One of the blurry figures said. He said something to other blurry figure that Checo didn't understand, and disappeared from his sight. If this could even be called sight.
Sergio started testing what he could and could not do. He could open his eyes, even if his vision was shit right now. He could listen. Could he speak? As he tried to make his voice come out, another blurry figure spoke.
-"Now, hold on there. Mr. Perez. You've had this tube in for two weeks, we can't take it out so easily."
Tube? Where is he? Who are these people?
-"Why don't we try something more simple?" A woman's voice said to his left. "Can you see us? Blink twice for yes, once for no."
And what's the option for "sort of"?
-"Wait let me clean your eyes a bit." The woman said. Sergio then felt something wet but warm go over his eyes. His closed them and tried to protest at the intrusion, even if it was done delicately it had taken him by surprise. But when the cloth was removed from his face, he was able to see much more clearly. The light still made his eyes squint but he could at least see a doctor and a nurse looking back at him.
-"So, Sergio, can you see us now?" the doctor asked. "Blink twice for yes." Checo proceeded to blink two times. "Excellent." the doctor told something to the nurse in German, and then she left the room.
-"Alright, so are you aware of what happened?" the doctor continued, Checo blinked once, He knew the basics but if the doctor could tell him anything else he would take it. "You had a car crash, the wreckage caught fire and you were stuck inside for a considerable amount of time. The suit protected most of your body, save for some burns on your face, aside from a fractured tibia and fibula. But your airway was severely burnt. That's why we intubated you, to protect you from the swelling that would have killed you. We did several aspirations and procedures to clean your lungs, you were very critical, but-"
In that moment, a figure bursted through the room in a rush. Checo's eyes went wide.
-"Hey." the man said with a slight smile. He could see the way it reached his eyes.
Charles. He's here.
His fiancé was panting slightly, as if he had ran all the way to his room. Checo needed to talk to him, to tell him how much he loved him. He needed-
An alarm went off by his bed.
-"Mr. Leclerc, please be mindful to not make anything that can upset Mr. Sergio, please. He's still quite delicate, and both his heart and breathing rate went up." the doctor said.
-"Of course, I'm sorry." Charles said, as the doctor left to give them some privacy. Charles sounded a bit like a scolded child. Checo just glared at the doctor. As if Charles could ever do anything to upset him.
He was too busy glaring at the doctor and missed the moment when a couple of hands inched close his face and cupped it gently. He looked back and met the most beautiful, green eyes in the world. The eyes he wished he could dream every night with and wake up every morning to. Sergio felt like he wanted to cry, but instead silently thanked God that he got the chance to see these eyes again.
-"Hey." Charles said in a whisper as he dropped his hands from his face. Ever since they've known each other, that has always been the way Charles greeted Sergio. And after they became a couple, Charles could make it sound so lovingly and intimate Checo got chills. This was one of those times.
Love, you're here. I can finally see you.
-"You're awake...at last." Charles said. Checo felt his hand being held by two others, and Charles raised it to lean his forehead against it. Physical touch has always been his love language.
Sergio tried to speak, but the only sound that came out of it him were some groans. Another alarm beeped by his bed.
-"Shh, shh, shh." Charles shushed him, as he rubbed comforting circles against his hand. "You can't talk yet, Sergio. So don't try it." Don't try it? He had the love of his life in front of him after he was sure he would die, he needed to talk to him. He needed to tell him-
-"Shhh." Charles repeated. "I know, I love you, too."
Oh. He knew. Of course he did. Sergio felt himself calm down again.
-"I'll get you a white board and markers so you can write what you want to say, okay?" Sergio nodded. He tested the hand that Charles was holding and moved his fingers a little. He focused on the feeling of his fiancé's palm against his fingertips. He felt something rough on them and frowned, Charles had calloused hands as every driver did, but this was different.
The younger must have noticed the change on his face, because his eyes widened. "Checo, wait-"
Sergio turned his hand around and was met with Charles', with scars all over his palms. Everything seemed to be healing and none looked particularly nasty, but they were there.
-"They are-" he cleared his throat. "They are from when we pulled you out of the car. But it's okay! They are superficial, I am fine, they don't hurt at all." Sergio still didn't like the idea of Charles getting hurt because of him, even though, without what Max and him did, he would likely not be there. But he decided to drop that topic, save it for a day in which he could actually speak, and focused on something else.
He was alive. Somehow, he was alive. He didn't know if he was out of the forest yet, he didn't know how bad his condition still was. But he could hope. Hope that he was on his way of getting better, with Charles.
The older let go of Charles' hands just so he could move his hand up to cup the younger's cheek. To touch him again, after such a close call, it was the biggest blessing in the world for Checo. He suddenly felt a tear running down the outer rim of his eye, it didn't take long for Charles to tear up, too, and as Checo moved his hand to wipe it away, he laughed as he looked away. This is another thing they've done countless times, yet it never fails to fluster Charles.
Checo could only hope there were still many more of these left to come.
o-o-o-o-o
A miracle. It's what the doctor had said. Sergio shouldn't have made it out of that accident, his wounds were too great, his health too compromised.
Yet here he was, awake. Still with a tube shoved down his throat, but at least he could see. He could see the nurses and doctors, smiling at him. He could tell those were honest smiles, truly happy he was getting better. He could see Charles by his side, holding and kissing his hand, talking to him, always telling him he was doing a great job.
He was glad to see the faces of people who visited him while he was sedated. Cousins and other relatives. Toto, Lewis, Fernando, Carlos, Seb, even Christian. Max was still a no show, but it was probably for the best. Checo was still convinced to at least try and fix things with his former teammate, and he would much rather do it when he could speak, instead of relying on a whiteboard to say anything.
Toto had apologized like he did when Checo was under. And, like Checo had planned, he told him there was nothing to forgive. When Checo asked about what happened with the rest of the races, he said that the race where he crashed was cancelled, but the schedule resumed after that. He had, of course, excused Charles of the races and Mercedes ran with only their reserve driver. But he told him both Charles and him had their seats secured for as long as they wanted.
Lewis, Seb and Fernando kept him entertained with stories and anecdotes from when they were all still racing, (nowadays Checo was the only one who still did). The friendship forged by years on the grid made them a little more unhinged, none of them tiptoed around him, -something he was seeing a lot, due to his health. Fernando once told Sergio that he liked him better right now the he couldn't talk. To others, it may seem rude, but that's just how they always got along.
Jo and his cousins also spent a lot of time with him. He appreciated them flying over from Guadalajara, and so they kept him updated with what was happening at home. They had to excuse themselves once when they admitted they dreaded Checo could be joining his family and couldn't hold back the tears. But the next day they were back again with smiles and jokes.
Sergio tried hard to persuade Charles to get back into the circuit. The year may have been lost for him but the Monegasque had every chance of winning his second World Championship, he was third in the standings behind Checo and Max (though the latter only had a few points on him). And the year was just starting, there were many races left. Charles refused every single time, even before Checo finished writing the sentence down on his board.
-"You think I would even enjoy racing while you're here?" he said once after Sergio was particularly insisting. "I would not even be able to focus, and I would do something stupid. And I race because it makes me happy, trust me when I saw I would not be happy racing right now. This, being with you, makes me happy now. So suck it up."
He said that last phrase with a mischievous smile. That playfulness was one of the first things that won Checo over, so he was glad it was coming back. He was sure he didn't look like he was smiling back at all with that tube still in, but he hoped that Charles could tell.
o-o-o-o-o
Extubation. That's what the doctors call removing the tube and taking you off the ventilator.
In theory, it sounded great. He would be able to breathe on his own, to speak, to eat through his mouth instead of getting nutrients through a vein.
In reality, Sergio thinks he's never been closer to torture.
The doctors didn't even take the tube out, they just turned the ventilator off. He felt like he was suffocating, he was gasping for air, desperate. He started grabbing the bed sheets. He could hear the alarms beeping by his bedside, but they sounded very far away. And just when he felt he would pass out, they turned it on again.
The doctors and nurses at the ICU said it was normal, his lungs still were not fully healed and he had not been able to breathe on his own for weeks, that is was all a process and they didn't expect it to be successful on the first try. Still, that didn't make it much easier, that didn't stop his heart from cracking a bit when he saw Charles' tearful eyes once Checo calmed down. What if they could never take the tube out, what if he could never breathe on his own again, what then?
When the doctors left them to themselves for a while, Charles noticed he wasn't on the best of moods.
-"What's wrong?" The younger asked as he squeezed his hand. Checo just shook his head lightly as he closed his eyes. "Come on, tell me." The younger insisted. After some hesitation, Checo grabbed his whiteboard and started writing.
How am I supposed to live like this? I won't be able to get into a car again. How am I even gonna marry you?
-"Hey, no, none of that." Charles started, then grabbed Sergio's face with both hands. "Look at me."
Checo looked up and there it was. The stare Charles always had when he his mind was set on something. That stubbornness all drivers had, tho not many took it to the heights the Monegasque could. It was the reason why he could compete even when Ferrari was an absolute mess, why he became a World Champion.
-"Since when do you think so negatively, eh? The driver who broke through every barrier, every unearned criticism, every xenophobic remark, and became the most successful Mexican driver of all time. You, admitting defeat when this has barely started. I thought you never gave up."
Leave it to Charles to use his own damn motto against him.
-"So, then? Hope for the best and work towards it, towards driving again. And if you think this tube here is going to stop me from marrying you, you're very much mistaken, Perez."
They smiled at each other as Checo extended both of his hands towards his fiancé, and grabbed his hand. He pulled it towards his chest and kept it there. Under any other circumstance, he would have kissed it, but this will have to do for now.
That night, the Mexican fell asleep wondering how on Earth would he be able to do this without Charles, thankful that he wouldn't have to find out.
o-o-o-o-o
Thankfully, the doctors were right, and after a few days of trial and error, they were able to successfully extubate him. They moved him out of the ICU, told him the worst was behind him. More and more people came to visit him, and he managed to watch a few of the races, as much as Charles and Toto tried to tell him not to do it. Max was winning, without the two Mercedes drivers, Max and Yuki started racking up points. Good for them, good for Redbull. He still had many friends there, his former engineers. He was glad they were doing well.
Toto clapped his shoulder once, while they were watching Max win yet another race.
-"You guys will get them next time." his team director said confidently. Checo was optimistic, he was off the tube, out of the ICU. The doctors were telling him a discharge seemed close, so he could just focus on physical therapy. It was all upwards from here.
He wished someone had told him about what a pain in the ass rehab would be, tho. After being bed ridden for almost a month, just getting feed through his vein, combined with his broken leg, he was basically a bonebag. He felt weak everywhere, except his right leg, which was in constant pain.
Lena, his physical therapist, was ever patient with him, helping him through both good days and bad days. And of course, Charles never left his side. He let Lena do her thing, but he was always close, watching him, offering warm words of encouragement when he thought Checo needed them. It was frustrating at times, Sergio had been an athlete his whole life, he was used to his body being pushed to the limit and enduring. Now, a few rounds of light dumbbells (supported by Lena) were enough to leave him sweating and gasping for air, his body not responding the way he wanted.
Walking was the worst, by far. He couldn't even stand by himself when he started. Now at least he has a walker, with the promise of moving to a cane if he kept improving. So even if his leg hurt like a bitch, he kept going, when Lena asked him to stop, he kept going. Until the day he pushed himself too hard and his leg gave out. Lena managed to break his fall, but Sergio still ended up on his knees.
Charles was by his side in seconds, trying to grab him by the arms and pull him up.
-"I'm okay, Charles." Checo started.
-"But you just-"
-"I said I'm okay. Please, let me do this." He saw the way the younger's eyes changed from concern to understanding as he stepped back. Sergio took a deep breath. "Lena, just keep the walker steady, please." He started using the walker to lean on as he stood up, one of his legs on the verge of collapsing, the other screaming in pain. But he kept going, until he was a sweaty, panting mess. Standing, tho.
He saw both Lena and Charles smiling brightly at him. Never Give Up.
o-o-o-o-o
After Max won the Championship that year, Sergio decided to formally retire from Formula 1, without even getting on another car again after the accident.
He had been improving leaps and bounds in his therapy. He was now only using a cane, and his leg didn't hurt too badly, anymore. He had been healthy enough for his doctors to allow him to move out of Germany and back to Monaco, to the house he shared with Charles. He still got therapy there. The summer wedding planning was on full swing.
But Checo decided that he couldn't keep doing this to the people that loved him. To his team, to Toto, to his garage, to his fans waiting for his return, to his people in Mexico, to Charles. He wasn't strong enough to walk by himself, let alone drive a car at over 300 km/h. They all deserved better, and shouldn't keep on waiting for something that was probably not going to happen. And so, he told Toto his seat was up for grabs to whoever he saw fit. With one condition:
-"How do you expect me to keep driving when you're not driving with me anymore, Sergio?" Charles said the night he found out about his fiancé's decision.
-"I know I haven't raced in a while, but as far as I know, only one person drives the car, I don't see how you wouldn't be able to handle that." He said with a slight smirk. Charles just rolled his eyes as he whispered "c'est uncroyable" and walked to the kitchen.
Sergio followed him and he spoke as the latter washed some dirty dishes. "Love, you've always been an amazing driver. Whether it was in karting or in F1, your talent always shone through. And it will keep on shining once you're back on your seat. And I will be the proudest husband in the world watching you become World Champion next season." he gave Charles a light kiss on the forehead. But the latter remained stone faced, crossing his arms.
-"Besides, you're not getting rid of me so easily." He pinched the side of younger's hip, making him flinch as usual. "You think I won't be part of your team? Toto will have to drag me kicking and screaming to stop me. I'll still be by your side, I'll still be your teammate, even if it's somewhat different." Checo then cupped Charles' face to make him look at him, as his eyes were fixed on the floor. "So go and win for us, okay?"
Charles couldn't keep his angry act up anymore as he blushed and nodded at his fiancé. Sergio smiled and left a chaste kiss on his lips.
-"And before you say anything, I'm not giving up. But I am doing what's best for everyone, including me. I won't rush therapy anymore and I will focus on achieving my most important goal right now."
-"Which is?" Charles asked.
-"Being able to wait for you at the altar, standing, without any canes to lean on. To have our first dance as a couple without any pain or falls. And when we're ready, to be able to play with out kids in the yard."
Charles never pushed him on the matter again.
o-o-o-o-o
-"Congrats on the World Title, by the way."
When Checo invited Max for coffee -after he was sure the latter was back in Monaco- he didn't expect things to be so....awkward between them. They talked about the weather, Max asked how Checo's recovery was going. Checo asked about Max's sister and niece.
And then, silence. Avoiding each others' eyes and smiling awkwardly if they happened to glance at each other at the same time. Checo couldn't even remember the last time they were alone before the hospital. Although they were never openly hostile with each other after their breakup and the older's exit from RedBull, they both drew a line. They were amicable, respectful of each other as drivers, they could talk if they were in a group of friends. But their conversations were shallow, brief, they didn't laugh together the same way they once used to.
What time could do to two people that once loved each other.
They weren't able to go back to how they were before they got together, just two friends who shared the same sassy and sometimes stupid sense of humor. Checo thought it was just the nature of their breakup, messy and intense as their relationship had always been, looking back on it now, maybe he was just scared. Scared of getting his heart broken by Max again, even after the scars left by him had healed. That the moment Max stopped being his boyfriend, he also stopped being his friend for good.
Realizing that he needed to hear Max's confession to actually get over that fear made him feel guilty. Max probably didn't think Checo was listening at the time. Even though the words were meant for him, they weren't meant for him at that time. Hadn't it happened, they probably would have kept their distance forever.
Another wave of guilt and sadness washed over him, but he decided he would do something about it. And for that, he had to take the first step.
-"Max." he started. The younger looked back at him, his eyes reflecting surprise and some uncertainty. Checo took a deep breath in. "There's something I think we need to talk about..."
They left the café 4 hours later, with red eyes from crying both tears of sadness and joy. Tears after the released pent up feelings they did or didn't know they were keeping, tears of laughter they had not been able to shed with anyone else. And a promise to keep meeting up, Max even suggested Checo brought Charles along.
Max had said Sergio had only had eyes for Charles for a while. And while that was true, now that he was looking at him, he could see it. He was trying to look happy, and, had Checo not learned to read every emotion under the sun in Max's blue eyes, he would have believed him. But he could see it, the hurt underneath.
It pained Checo, but the only thing he could do now was hope for Max to get over him soon so that he, too, could find the love of his life. Just like the older did with a certain Monegasque waiting for him at home.
o-o-o-o-o
Before Sergio knew it, it was his wedding day.
The cat got out of the bag earlier than either of them had planned, and so it went from a small ceremony with their families, their closest friends and their boss, to having multiple past and present drivers, mechanics, engineers, colleagues, and more.
Still, the chapel somehow looked small, intimate. As if this was still a small wedding. Sergio was talking to Jo, or at least trying to, until the other grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to focus.
-"Relax, man. You tapping your foot so loud is echoing here." That's when he finally took notice of the tick, and stopped. For the first time ever, he wished he had his cane back, because hie felt like his legs were about to give out underneath him. "Everything will be fine, relax." His friend continued, as he took a breath in and motioned for Checo to follow suit, just as he had done countless times when they trained for the races.
-"Better?" Jo asked.
-"Much better, thanks man." Sergio replied.
-"You're welcome, now if you excuse me I'll go find Charles to ask him if he's sure about this because he's marrying down big time." Sergio punched his friend before the other could move a muscle. Jo just covered his mouth to hold back his laughter.
-"I'm kidding bro, come on." Jo continued. "Everyone knows you two are perfect for each other. Actually, I'm so happy you have him. After everything that happened, I know he will always love and support you, so I can be at peace leaving you with him."
-"Awww don't cry on me, Jo!" Checo said mockingly, getting back at his friend for the joke earlier. "Leave that for the best man's speech." It was now Jo' turn to punch the groom, their bickering died down as the doors to the chapel opened, so Sergio didn't get the chance to tell him that he knew.
The nerves suddenly died down as he started walking, meeting the eyes of several of the guests: Carlos, Lewis, Nano, Nico, Seb, Max, and his cousins on one side. Pierre, Lando, George, Esteban, Lance and Charles' family on the other. As he kept walking forward -his leg painless and keeping him steady- he saw Toto and Suzie at the front, the godparents. And next to them, a gallery of pictures, of the family and friends Sergio and Charles made sure attended in soul and sentiment: Charles' dad, Jules, Anthoine, his family. He sent a silent mental thank you and a prayer to all of them.
After he got settled on his side of the aisle, it was Charles' turn. He was on a very simple black tux, just like Checo. But, while Checo felt he looked like any other day, Charles had never looked more handsome in his eyes. He had a fleeting thought of testing his leg and running to meet him in the middle, grab his hand and rush back to the altar because he couldn't wait to make this man his husband.
He held the impulse back and settled for watching Charles walking with his mother, until they got to the end and Checo extended his hand for the younger to take, squeezing it lightly as he did. As the ceremony went on, Checo just kept stealing glances in Charles' direction, feeling butterflies when he saw the latter was doing the same.
-"Hey" Charles mouthed soundlessly
-"Hey" Sergio mouthes back.
As the ceremony came to a close and the priest pronounced them as husbands. They turned to look at each other. Sergio fixed his gaze on Charles, on this man who is so much more than just a handsome face or even much more than a F1 World Champion. He was so strong, Sergio couldn't even believe he ever needed someone like himself to be his support. This man, who has endured loss, heartbreak, uncertainty, and still found the will to go on, and to take Sergio with him. The man without whom Checo was sure he would have never made this recovery, without his care, encouragement, attention and support. Their roles with each other had not exactly reversed, but morphed so they could be each other's rock, just like Charles said they should, as husbands.
-"Je t'aime" Charles said with a knowing smile. He knew Checo was looking forward to that, and the older wasted no time in saying it back in Spanish.
Checo may have never won another race after that accident, but being able to marry Charles Leclerc was a victory nothing could compare to. Those were his thoughts as he put his arms around Charles waist while the latter grabbed his neck and kissed.
(Oh, and Charles did become World Champion that season, and the one after that. And the image of Checo congratulating with a kiss on his forehead as the whole team celebrated around them, made for some great headliners).