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magicalrocketships · 12 days ago

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Rivers of Light || part 7 ||

(reminder that this in its entirety contains mpreg, reference to giving birth, Max Verstappen's bad dad, past abuse, and on-track accidents.)

All previous parts can be found in the masterpost here.

Max hasn't been scared before. Not really, not like this. But he's been scared without pause since he found out he was pregnant. It's exhausting. It's terrifying. And Max doesn't know how to make it stop.

Part 7

Bastiaan cries all the way from Viry-Châtillon to the hotel Daniel's booked for them. He's tired and cranky and hates his car seat and wants to be home where it's familiar and quiet and is just him and Max.

Max understands. He feels the same. He's overwhelmed and exhausted too. He hasn't slept through the night since before Bastiaan was born; every moment he's had with his baby he's had to figure out by himself. He doesn't have anyone else. He strokes Bastiaan's forehead and cheek with his thumb. It soothes him some of the time. His daddy's touch.

It doesn't work this time. Nothing's going to soothe him but being out of the car seat. Or sleeping.

"It's okay, little baby," Max tells him. "I know everything's been different. I know you want to be at home. Everything is new, and you like the things you know. You're being very brave, but I know you've had enough." Max has had enough too. He feels like when a cup's too full and the water tips over the top and onto the table. He's got nowhere to put anything new. He doesn't know how to fix it.

"It won't be long," Daniel says. "Less than five minutes."

Max looks up. Daniel's looking at him in the rear view mirror as they wait at traffic lights. Max can't hide his exhaustion. His elation at having a chance. His fear that it won't work out. Max hasn't been scared before. Not really, not like this. But he's been scared without pause since he found out he was pregnant. It's exhausting. It's terrifying. And Max doesn't know how to make it stop.

"Not long now, Bastiaan," Daniel says.

Max doesn't cry, but it doesn't stop him wanting to.

&&&

Max doesn't go to the check-in desk with Daniel. There's a queue, so Max takes the pushchair over to the sofas in the corner instead and concentrates on taking a sad, frowny Bastiaan out of his car seat. It's not good for a baby as little as Bastiaan to be so much in his seat but this trip is an exception and not the rule.

"There we are," Max tells Bastiaan softly, kissing the top of his head. "Is that better, my baby?"

Bastiaan rubs his cheek over Max's t-shirt. He likes it best when Max isn't wearing a t-shirt at all, never mind the compression vest that's hurting Max underneath it. Max shushes him, giving him a little slow rock to settle him.

When Daniel comes over, he's pink-cheeked. "I fucked up." He glances at Bastiaan. "Sorry for swearing."

Max shakes his head. "He's a baby, he is barely holding his head up. He can hear a bad word and not be saying it just yet."

"I thought I was booking you a family room and keeping my room, but my French is apparently pretty merde because they thought I was amending my own room booking instead. And they're full up unless someone doesn't check in for this security conference and cancels at the last minute. Which so far they haven't."

"I was going to stay in the airport anyway," Max says. He squares his shoulders. "You can just drop us there instead."

"No," Daniel says, making a face. "Don't be an idiot. We're just going to have to share the family room instead. The guy behind the counter was doing some pretty ineffective miming but I think there's a roll out bed."

"Oh," Max says. "Okay."

"Unless you don't want to," Daniel says quickly, "and if so, I'll be the one to go and find another room. They said they'd call if anyone cancelled anyway."

"The baby will keep you awake," Max says. "He doesn't like to sleep through the night."

"Ehh," Daniel says. "Neither do I. We can be insomniac buddies." He grins and it might not look exactly like the grins Max has carefully catalogued through years of long distance devotion but it's close enough that Max might be mistaken. It has been a while since he'd seen Daniel. Since Daniel had not contacted him after the crash.

"Okay," Max says. "Let's go." He has his rucksack and the changing bag and his suitcase and the pushchair. Daniel has a scuff-free leather hold-all with his initials embossed and the backpack he'd brought onto the plane. He takes Max's suitcase and manages to manoeuvre both it and the pushchair one-handed towards the lifts. Max is left following with Bastiaan, his little quiet baby with his little tear-stained face. Max kisses him. He is loved. He's so loved. Max is going to make sure he always knows it.

&&&

The room is nice but not as big as Max secretly wants. There's a large bed, a smaller twin bed over by the window, and a space where a crib would go if there was one. Which there isn't.

Max lets out a breath. He lays Bastiaan down in the middle of the bed. Bastiaan doesn't have many toys, because Max doesn't have anyone to give him any, and because Max has barely been anywhere since he was born, and before that, hadn't thought about buying anything but the barest practicalities. There's a soft rattle shaped like a lamb, and a toy giraffe. Both of them came from Celine, when she'd texted him to find out how he was doing, and he'd texted back to say that he was in hospital and Bastiaan was seven hours old. She'd closed the cafe after lunch, driven to the hospital, and delivered Max a baby blanket, the giraffe, and the rattle. She'd hugged him, held Bastiaan, and come back the following morning to drive them both home. She was the one who'd shown Max how to bath Bastiaan in the sink, how to test the water temperature and hold him and gently bathe him. Max needs to do better. The only person Bastiaan has is Max.

He gets out the giraffe and the rattle from his backpack. Bastiaan closes his little hand around the giraffe's neck. He wriggles his legs. His eyes track Max as Max moves, as he stands up to put his bag down.

"I forgot to buy baby wipes," Max says. "I'm running out." He's tired. "Can you look up if there's a shop near?"

"I'll do one better," Daniel says. He's thumbing through his phone. "I've got to go to the shop myself. Need a couple of things. I'll sort out somewhere for the baby to sleep as well." He shows Max a picture of baby wipes. "Are these okay?"

Max doesn't know enough to have a preference. "If they are for babies," he says. He sits down on the bed next to his baby. Bastiaan's still wriggling. His little hands move. His toes are curling and stretching out in his little socks. "I can go myself."

"Or," Daniel says, "I can go and give you a break from my company. You and Bastiaan can hang out. Do you need nappies or anything?"

"We're probably okay," Max says. He doesn't think about the emptying box at home. It'll be fine. He'll sign whatever contract Cyril gives him so long as it means he doesn't have to start worrying about anything for Bastiaan.

"You want me to bring you some Red Bull or something?"

Max shakes his head. His dad had made him go cold turkey on Red Bull after he was fired, and it wasn't like Max had been mobile enough at the time to go and find an alternative. Now he's supposed to be limiting his caffeine intake because he's feeding Bastiaan, so if he'll have anything it probably won't be an energy drink. "I'm okay," he says. "Thank you."

"Okay," Daniel says. Then, "Fuck, I don't have your number. You've changed it, right? Either that or you've blocked me."

Max looks at him. "I haven't blocked you."

"Well then," Daniel says. "I'm going to need your number. To call. If there are decisions to be made about baby wipes." He holds his phone out for Max to take. It's open at Max's contact page, and Max's number is there, the one he had before. The one that belongs to a sim card Max destroyed with a pair of pliers in the corner of a car park a couple of hours after running away from his dad's place. He'd wiped his phone and his laptop before leaving. Had to create a new Apple ID because his dad tracked his location via his old one. Traded in his car for another one in a deal that only benefited the car salesman and not Max. He'd registered the car to his mum's address even though he hadn't seen her since before he left Formula 1. He hadn't had anywhere else to put down.

For nine months, Max has kept his location a secret from his dad. And now he's just shown up at Renault and asked for a job. If it works out, his dad's going to know exactly where Max and his baby are.

Max lets out a breath. He types his telephone number into Daniel's phone and saves his contact record. "There," he says. "My number."

"Great," Daniel says. "Lemme give you a missed call so you've got mine." He does finger guns at Max after Max's phone starts to buzz. "Can't get rid of me now, bud."

Max thinks back to after the accident. His concussion. His dad looking through Max's phone. Reading out his messages to him because Max couldn't look at a screen for weeks. Daniel hadn't called. Hadn't texted. Hadn’t got in touch.

It wasn't Max who'd got rid of Daniel. It had been the other way around.

"I've got a couple of things to get," Daniel says, "so don't miss me too hard. I'll be back in time to take us to Cyril's, promise."

"Okay, Daniel," Max says. He unlaces his shoes and takes them off. He gets on the bed next to Bastiaan, curling around him like a protective letter C. "Hello, my baby. Are you playing with your toys?"

Bastiaan replies by bringing his fist up to his mouth. He starts to suck on it, his little sign that he's hungry. Max kisses his soft hair.

When he looks up, Daniel's still there. He's watching them both. He looks almost sad.

"I'll see you," Daniel says.

"Yeah," Max says. He waits until the door's closed after him, until Daniel's footsteps have padded away down the hallway.

Max sits up, pulls his t-shirt over his head, unzips his compression top, and lets out a breath. His tits hurt. There are harsh red lines pressed into Max's skin. He wants to be at home where he doesn't have to wear it. He picks his baby up. Bastiaan's already rooting for him.

"My hungry baby," Max says. For a second, Max's eyes blur with tears, but this isn't him. He's not a crier. He's stronger than that. Better than that. He's been bred not to cry.

Bastiaan latches on. It's sore. Max looks down at him. Strokes his hair. His cheek. Lets Bastiaan hold onto his thumb.

"It's just the two of us, hey?" Max says. "Me and you, my little baby. Me and you."

He scrubs away his tears with the back of his hand, and Bastiaan holds on.

#my fic #maxiel #rivers of light #fic fic tumblr fic #the mpreg train is leaving the station #(again)#this is growing beyond the size of a tumblr fic so i think i should put it on ao3 #but i kind of wanted to finish it all and edit it and put it up #hmmmmmmmm #anyway!!!!!#more bastiaan

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