Chapter Text
The news came out of the blue. Mercedes wouldn’t be renewing his contract for 2026. George couldn’t believe his ears. Just last week he’d won the Singapore Grand Prix, and today Toto had shocked him with this news. The team principal sat across from him with his arms crossed on the table, looking completely calm. It took Russell a moment to gather his thoughts.
“Is this decision final?” The question came out pitifully. Some part of his mind wanted to believe there was still a chance to fix things.“Yes.” Such a simple answer felt like a knife straight to the heart.
Wolff was saying something about what would happen next, but Russell’s brain literally refused to process the information. George had no choice but to nod and leave the office. The team principal didn’t joke around with statements like that, and there was no point in trying to grovel and beg to be allowed to stay. Once he stepped outside the office, it was as if the world had turned off all sound and slowed down. He didn’t know how he made it to the restrooms, where he held his head under the stream of cold water from the sink.
When George looked up, he was surprised by his own red, teary eyes. He couldn’t even say how long he’d been standing there, trying to cool off and calm down. It was, frankly, a mess. Tears kept falling against his will.
Russell couldn’t remember how he’d made it home. His whole world had come crashing down. From an early age, he’d tried with all his might to make it onto this team, to prove he was worthy. He’d successfully driven the most stubborn cars at Williams in the worst weather. He’d performed admirably at Mercedes for all three of those years. Just three years. His heart was literally bursting with all these emotions. Pain. Fear. Resentment. He knew it was harder for Omegas in Formula One than for Alphas, but he still naively believed he’d managed to handle it all.
At home, George simply collapsed onto the bed without even changing his clothes. He didn’t usually do that, but today he simply didn’t have the strength. The Brit cried bitterly into his pillow, but suddenly he felt a sharp urge to run to the bathroom, where he threw up. He hadn’t had problems like this for a couple of months and had already forgotten how unpleasant it was. The last time he’d felt this bad was during the round in the Netherlands. Russell had been feeling nauseous constantly back then.
George managed to wash up and fall asleep with a slight ache in his stomach. He hoped he’d feel better tomorrow.
***
Things didn’t get any better. Not tomorrow, nor a few days later. The Brit went to practice, smiled at everyone, but he could see the pity in people’s eyes. Everyone understood that these were his last few months here. But George kept giving it his all. It wasn’t the time to give in to despair. The U.S. round of the season was approaching, and he had to do his best. Even if management’s decision couldn’t be changed, that didn’t mean his performance had to suffer. After all, at the end of the season he’d have to look for a new team, and with consistent results, that would be much easier. Russell devoted all his free time to training. He worked out in the gym, did laps on the simulator, or analyzed strategies. He did anything to keep from being alone with his thoughts. No matter how hard the Brit tried, his future remained unclear and therefore frightening. The termination of his contract had not yet been officially announced in the media. The upcoming weekend in Austin did nothing to cheer George up. He could only feel how catastrophically little time he had left.
The paddock was as noisy as ever. Engineers, mechanics, drivers, and their WAGs were darting about everywhere. It all felt like a distant buzz and brought him no joy, even though Russell was usually the first to get swept up in that atmosphere. He didn’t have the energy for anything. Even practice and qualifying before the sprint had been terrible. He was sitting gloomily in the garage when a hand landed on his shoulder.
“That was impressive.” Max said with a smirk. George chuckled at his sarcasm.
“Thanks.” The Brit replied with exaggerated cheerfulness.
“You seem kind of pensive and… distant, or something?” Verstappen sat down next to him, keeping hand on his shoulder.
“I’m having a few difficulties.” There was no point in denying it. After all, it was hard to hide anything from his alpha. “You didn’t call me either.”
“I was a little busy.” Max replied evasively. He continued to stroke his shoulder. “I hope you’ll be more active tomorrow. Otherwise, I really will bring a pillow and sleep during the race.”
“That would be just like you.” Verstappen leaned in and gently kissed the Brit on the cheek, making him blush. “There are people walking around.”
“No one’s looking at us.” But Russell remained unyielding. “All right. Then I’ll see you tomorrow after the sprint in my room.”
***
George finished second, right behind Max. It was a good result, but it could have been better. To guarantee a spot on a new team, he needed to post a better result. But after the race, he headed to his Alpha’s room anyway. They definitely needed to discuss the current situation.
Verstappen met him at the door with a smile. George found himself smiling involuntarily.
“You were waiting for me right at the door? How sweet.” There was a playful tone in his voice. Max wrapped his arms around George’s waist and pulled him close as soon as the door closed.
“I missed you.” Without giving him time to answer, the Dutchman pulled the omega in for a kiss. Russell didn’t resist. They hadn’t seen each other since the Baku round. Usually, Max would often come over to George’s place on his own, but, it seemed, this month he’d been swamped with work. Max kissed as passionately and wildly as he raced. The Brit’s head was spinning from his partner’s actions. Breaking the kiss was difficult, but necessary. They’d agreed not to have sex on racing weekends, but Verstappen was constantly trying to break that agreement. Russell tried to keep it under control. After all, a sore butt wasn’t what he needed during a race. Besides, he had a very specific purpose for this visit.
“You’re unbearable.” George purred sweetly, breaking the kiss. Max, of course, tried to press their lips together again, but the omega pulled away and walked deeper into the room to sit on the bed. “It’s your own fault for not talking to me for a whole month. I texted you, but you didn’t reply.”
Max suddenly looked away and rubbed his neck.
“I was busy.” His reply sounded somewhat vague.
“You’ve already said that. You didn’t even say what you were doing.” George was actually joking, but Verstappen kept looking away.
“Am I being interrogated?” The Dutchman made a feeble attempt to brush it off. The omega had no intention of playing cat-and-mouse with him.
“Ok, ok. Keep your secrets.” George was willing to make concessions now. “I actually came here to talk. I…” Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He frantically fished it out, with his eyes apologizing to the Alpha, who had come over to sit next to him. His sister’s name was displayed on the screen. Russell dismissed the call. “Sorry, that’s Kara. So, I need to…” The phone vibrated again. His sister again. “It must be something important. She doesn’t usually call like this.” Max gave him an encouraging kiss on the neck.
“Then answer it.” George gave him a light peck on the lips and walked over to the window, answering the call.
“Hi. What’s up?” The omega gazed out at the city before him.
“Bloody hell, finally! Have you seen the news?!” Kara was making a lot of noise on the other end of the line.
“No.” George replied, bewildered.
“I’ll send it to you right now. It’s Mercedes’ official statement. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t renewing your contract?!” The Brit hadn’t expected those words. Only a week had passed, and he still couldn’t pull himself together.
“I didn’t know how.”
“Do you even know who they traded you for? No? Well, take a look!” His sister sent him a link to a post. George opened it with trembling hands and froze. The headline was sensational, and the attached image was even worse. In the photo, Max Verstappen himself was signing some papers. A pleased Toto Wolff stood nearby. Russell couldn’t believe his eyes. The text of the announcement was unambiguous. Mercedes AMG Petronas was terminating the contract with him and signing Max Verstappen. “George? George, are you there?”
“I’ll call you back.” He hung up without giving his sister a chance to say a word. The ill-fated announcement remained on the screen. Inside, Russell felt as if he was dying. He slowly turned to the man behind him. “Max, so what were you up to?” George’s voice trembled.
“Are we back to the investigation? It doesn’t really matter.” The Dutchman sounded calm.
“No. Answer me.” Steel cut through his voice. The Brit turned around. It was as if he were seeing the man in front of him for the first time. As if someone else were sitting there. Not the alpha he was used to, but someone else. Someone who could push him out of the dream team and didn’t even bother to warn him about it. Max shifted uneasily under his gaze.
“I don’t think we should talk about this right now…” There wasn’t a shred of confidence in his words.
“We shouldn’t talk about the fact that I’m being kicked off the team for your sake?” It was like a gunshot. Like a sudden scream in the silence. Unexpected and frightening. Max finally looked up. Shock and disbelief shone in his eyes.
“What?” George silently turned the screen toward the Alpha. His hand was surprisingly steady. Verstappen’s eyes darted across the lines, and with every passing second, his eyes widened more and more. Finally, the Dutchman looked up at him. “George… I didn’t know that they were posting the statement. I swear. I didn’t think it would turn out like this…”
George found these words funny, but he didn’t laugh. He couldn’t believe this was the Alpha he’d trusted. That this was the Alpha with whom he’d gone through his heats. With whom he’d been the most vulnerable. That this was the man with whom he’d so foolishly dreamed of building a family. A perfect one. Just like in a picture. A successful alpha-dad and an omega-dad and their children, whom they would, of course, love and protect. That perfect fantasy was crumbling right at that moment, causing unbearable emotional pain.
“You never think about anything. Or rather, about anyone but yourself.”
“George, that’s not true! I thought we’d be on the same team!” Max jumped to his feet and stepped right up close. Russell took a step back.
“You didn’t even talk to me.” A sickening lump rose in his throat again.
“I didn’t think it would turn out like this. I thought it would be a surprise.”
“What a fucking surprise. Thanks.” George took a big step to the side and headed for the door. He could feel tears about to spill from his eyes. Max tried to stop him.
“George, wait! Let’s talk! We can try to fix this!” Verstappen tried to grab his arm, but Russell yanked it away sharply and slapped the alpha across the cheek. The Dutchman was stunned. No matter how bad things got, George had never hit him, never even snapped back or yelled. Of the two of them, he was the one more willing to talk things out. George had always respected his past.
“Don’t come near me. Don’t ever come near me again. It’s over between us.” His tone was utterly icy, even though nausea was rising in his throat.
Without looking back, George ran out of Max’s room, and God knows how he made it back to his own. His eyes stung with tears. Once inside, he barely made it to the bathroom and, for the umpteenth time that week, threw up. In tears and vomiting, he knelt over the toilet and felt more pathetic than ever.