Work Text:
Imola has always had this eerie atmosphere for as long as Max can remember, but this year he felt as if a heavy cloud hung over the circuit even though the sun was shining on everyone. It was only on the 15th lap of the race that he realized the tightness in his chest and the need to hug Charles tightly before they entered the circuit.
— Red flag, Max. Severe accident in Tamburello. — GP informed, and at that moment the three-time champion felt a lump in his throat.
— Who?
— Charles.
From that moment on, Max felt numb, as if he were out of his body, he acted automatically, barely remembering what had happened. He barely remembered when the news came out that the race would not resume, he barely remembered when he received the call to go to the hospital where the love of his life was, he barely remembered when, in the early hours of Monday, he received the news that he never wanted to receive, that he would no longer see Charles's green eyes, that he would no longer see the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, that he would no longer hear his laugh or his songs on the piano. He barely remembered the funeral, but he would certainly always remember Pascale crying, Lorenzo trying to be strong and comfort his mother, Arthur crying silently as his girlfriend, Jade, hugged him in an attempt to comfort him, and above all everything, he would forever remember the coffin with Charles' body being lowered to the sound of the Monegasque anthem.
-
Two hours passed and now he was home, accompanied only by his cats, Jimmy and Sassy, and little Leo.
-
The race in Monaco had been cancelled, there was no reason for festivities when the national hero had heard the anthem for the last time on Wednesday. Max hadn't been on social media since that day, barely touching his cell phone, only responding to messages from his parents, his sister, his friends and some of Charles' friends, all concerned about his well-being after the death of the one who was the Sun that illuminated his life. He occasionally called Pascale and Charles' brothers, hiding the tremor in his voice to try to offer him comfort.
-
A week had passed and once again he was wearing that horrible black suit, now in a Catholic church where Charles' seventh day mass was being held.
-
Max stared with a blank expression at the Canadian circuit in front of him as he reconnoitred the track, his mind always wandering to Charles, his sweet Charles who was no longer among the living. Along the way he saw Oliver Bearman dressed in Ferrari red, ready for his first weekend as a driver for the Italian team, he was holding his girlfriend's hand as he chatted silently with the members of the team that was previously Charles's, but which would now be his until the end of 2025. Max didn't know how he should focus on racing knowing he would never again see the 16 printed in rosso corsa hunting his blue RedBull.
-
Seven months later Max had been forced to attend the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, where Checo received the champion's trophy alongside his wife, Carola, with a radiant and genuine smile.
-
Max hadn't been able to sleep since that fateful Sunday. Tired of tossing and turning in his bed, which was now very big and very cold, he walked to the living room, scrolling through the Netflix catalog, until he came across a cooking show, that should be enough for a sleepless night.
-
Eight months had passed and Max still couldn't sleep, now he was watching another stupid reality show on Netflix, but it was better than facing his empty apartment.
-
He looked at the sea in the distance, remembering all the times Charles compared the color of his eyes to the color of the Mediterranean waters. He sighed, feeling overwhelmed in the country that he once thought was home, but was now just a place filled with happy, but no less painful, memories.
-
A year had passed and Max now lived in a small town in the Netherlands, in a country house where a certain Monegasque's piano occupied the center of his living room.
-
Leo was sitting in front of the apartment's front door, waiting for someone who would never arrive. Max walked calmly, taking the small dog that was whimpering in his arms, contemplating the animal's look of pure sadness and longing.
— I understand you, little friend, I miss him too, but I think we both need to face the reality that this isn't a nightmare and that he's not coming back.
-
Two years passed and Max now placed the small pot with Leo's ashes on the piano, next to a photo of Charles with the little animal, while he felt Jimmy and Sassy watching him from where they were lying on the piano bench.
-
Max no longer felt interested in racing, he acted automatically and did what they expected him to do, his answers were cold and short, not allowing the media to be more cruel than it already was. He watched Lewis break record after record using rosso corsa, but he felt nothing, neither envy nor anger, he just thought that this must be Charles and felt a piece of his heart break with each podium.
-
Three years passed and Max announced his retirement. There was no reason for him to continue racing when he knew that the Ferrari car with the number 16 would never chase him again.
-
He dedicated his life to cats, visiting his family and Charles' family three times a year. He knew he was no longer a good owner for Jimmy and Sassy, so he made the difficult decision to hand them over to his sister Victoria, knowing that she and her family would provide the happy home the felines deserved.
Little by little he became detached from the things he loved, sinking into the emptiness of his heart and letting himself be carried away by the black hole that existed in his life where before there was a star, his star, his Charles.
-
30 years passed and another funeral was taking place in Monaco. The Verstappen and Leclerc families now mourn Max's body, which would be buried next to their loved one. He had died as he had lived for the past thirty years, alone and in the dark.
He would be buried next to Charles and the ashes of Leo, Jimmy and Sassy, with the last photo of the two of them together held tightly in his cold hands.
They would finally meet again and Max, in the afterlife, was truly smiling for the first time since that fateful Sunday.