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2014, George was 15 now. His dad's were signed to the same team, and had been for a year now, some pondering if that was the right decision due to the tension it often brought between the couple.
George wasn't sure himself, sometimes after a bad race his dad's would come home extra tense with one another, and would often give each other the silent treatment. George hated it, it made him feel awkward and nervous. But, he never said anything to the pair — he didn't want to make the situation worse.
Unfortunately, due to the fact that the pair were often out a races, it meant that they had less time to come to his own races. Yes, they were only go-karting races, but he still would've liked it if his dad's showed up. Even once.
He was still kind of a secret in the public eye, yes he'd been brought to the paddock when he was around 10, but any questions asked about him were turned away — there shockingly hadn't been much, if any, media coverage about him. Plus, his name had never been revealed.
So, when he ever did join proper formula driving teams, he wouldn't be attributed to his parents. Especially due to the fact that he used a different last name everywhere but legally. Legally, he was George Hamilton-Rosberg. When not around his parents, or people who knew, he was George Russell.
Tonight was one of the quieter nights, he'd crashed out on the track and injured his wrist — potentially breaking it. He had gotten out of them calling his 'emergency' contact, as he knew neither of them would pick him up, and it's not like he had a babysitter anymore.
As he sat there, attempting to do his maths homework, his wrist practically burnt. It hurt so bad to move it, and writing wasn't making it much better — he knew he should have gone to the hospital, knew he was just making it worse for himself, but he was too tired to care.
The front door opened, his parents chatting softly with one another — it must have been a good day, as they weren't silent and they weren't arguing either. George couldn't help the sigh of relief that left his throat.
Walking into the kitchen, Lewis headed straight for the oven, preparing dinner for the three of them, whilst Nico moved to stand behind George — observing what his son was doing for his homework.
"Maths, hm?"
"Huh?" George blinked, turning his head to look up at Nico, it took him a moment for George to realise what he had been asked.
"Oh. Yeah.." he went back to focusing on his homework, hoping to get it done sooner rather than later. He wasn't in the mood to eat dinner, the throbbing in his right wrist getting worse.
He hoped that neither of his dad's would notice, he didn't need to be hounded by them. And, he also didn't need them to take him to the hospital so late at night. Well, they'd probably just call up the family doctor after all, probably not wanting to get caught by any fans in public, and also not wanting to have to make the doctor sign an NDA.
"Georgie, are you okay? You're writing strangely.." Nico raised an eyebrow, looking at the way that George's right hand was shaking — he also noticed the slight swelling, and bruising, around George's wrist and quickly grabbed the boys hand — rolling the sleeve up.
"Jesus—! George what the hell happened!?" He pushed the sleeve up properly, rubbing his thumb along the swelling and bruise on George's wrist — his dad could clearly instantly tell that the boy's wrist was broken.
"Nothing I jus—" Lewis, having paused his cooking after hearing the extreme worry in Nico's voice, stepped closer to the pair. As soon as he saw George's wrist he frowned, his eyebrows furrowing.
"That's not nothing kiddo, did you break your wrist??"
"It was just a little accident on the track earlier."
"Little? It looks horribly broken darling." Nico frowned, holding his wrist carefully. Looking at Lewis, as the couple decided what exactly they should do with their son — was it too late to call a doctor to the house?
"It doesn't hurt that bad.." Lewis gave George a look, he knew his son was lying, Nico ran his fingers through George's hair.
"Lewis, can you call the doctor? It looks very broken.." Lewis nodded, heading out of the room to call up their family doctor, whilst Nico stayed with George. He decided that the best option for now was to give George some painkillers, in order to combat the agony the teenager was probably currently feeling.
"I'm good to grab you some painkillers, okay?" His hand came back to George's hair, running his fingers through the curls once more. He knew it was an action that George always loved, it always soothed his son.
"Okay.." George watched his dad head over to the locked medicine cabinet, unlocking it to grab some painkillers for his son — he looked for the strongest ones George could take, filling up a glass of water and pushing it in front of George.
George took them without any hesitation, his wrist already pounding. The pain had just been getting worse and worse, he knew it was because he hadn't taken any care of himself — had barley even iced his wrists — but, he had kind of assumed that he would be fine.
"How did it happen, hm?" George shrugged.
"Spun out on the track, and I turned the wheel so fast that I hurt my wrist."
"Did you at least go to one of the medical tents and get it looked at?"
"Yeah, I just told them it was fine and nothing hurt, and they believed me. I didn't want them calling you guys, or doing something stupid like sending me to the hospital."
"George, why not? You know Lewis or I would have come as soon as we found out you were hurt."
"You had a race, I didn't want to bother."
"George." Nico's tone went softer, a slip of concern there. He hated how George didn't think he could call his parents when he needed them. It made Nico feel awfully guilty, they shouldn't be making their own son feel that way.
"George. Darling, you'd never be a bother. You got hurt, we're supposed to be there for you, you should have called."
"You weren't even at the race."
"Oh, Georgie. I'm so sorry, Lewis and I have been more focused on ourselves, and our careers instead of you. I'm so sorry." Nico pulled George close, pulling him in for a hug and planting a soft kiss on his temple.
He hadn't realised how much their careers had truly been impacting their son, he hated how selfish they had both been. Yes, their careers were important, but there son's mental health should have been their sole focus.
Nico rubbed his hand up and down George's back, hoping to soothe the boy. He knew that just holding and reassuring him wouldn't help the damage the two of them had caused, but he knew that George would forgive them. He was too good like that.
George couldn't help it, he could feel the hot tears dripping down his cheeks — he tried to hold it back, but he simply sobbed, his face against Nico's shoulder as his shoulders heaved with each sob that left his lips.
"Shhh. Shh. It's okay, it's okay Georgie."
Lewis came back in, seeing the position they were in and frowning slightly. He hated seeing George cry, and he didn't have the context of the situation, so had no idea why his son was currently in such a state — unfortunately, when he looked at Nico, the other man simply shook his head, which meant that Lewis would have to wait till later tonight, when the two of them were alone, to understand what had occurred.
"The doctor will be here in thirty minutes."
"Okay." Nico nodded, and then cupped George's face in his hands.
"Why don't you go sit on the sofa and put a movie on, whilst Lewis and I sort out dinner, yeah?"
George simply sniffled, and nodded, making his way off to the living room. Nico and Lewis remained silent in the kitchen for a few moments, Lewis still confused as to what was going on — as to why George had been crying.
"Everything okay?"
"He didn't want to call us, because he said he knew we wouldn't pick up. He thought he would be a bother Lewis. Our own son, a bother." Nico sighed, putting his head in his hands. He hated how hurt George had been, how much her truly believed that they would be upset with him if he called them.
"Oh."
"Yeah. We've been so focused on our careers that we've been spending less time with him. We've barley even attended his karting competitions, he probably feels like we don't care about it." Nico made sure to keep his voice down, so that George did not hear their conversation. Although, he would not be surprised if the boy had fallen asleep on the sofa.
"We need to start attending them more, trying as hard as we can to spend more time with him. Even if that means just bringing him to work with us."
"Yeah.. I just can't believe he broke his wrist and didn't tell us."
"I know. It's our fault."
"It really is."
They two of them remained where they were stood and sat for a little while longer, coming to terms with the evening.
From now on, they made sure that they were present in George’s life — no matter what.