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Sebastian and Daniel stepped out into the cool evening air, the soft glow of the motorhome lights illuminating behind them as they made their way across to Daniel’s trailer. The gravel crunched beneath their feet, a sound that punctuated the otherwise quiet evening. The scent of rubber and oil still lingered in the air, mingling with the crisp freshness of the evening.
As they walked, Sebastian couldn't help but marvel at the surreal calm that had settled over the track. It always came as a surprise just how quiet a track could be on a night without a race.
A warm light spilled from the windows of Daniel’s place, casting long shadows across the ground. As they approached, Sebastian could hear the low murmur of voices and through the walls. The Aussie should definitely invest in soundproofing.
He stopped, one foot on the steps. A knot of tension formed in his stomach, a mix of anticipation and apprehension at facing his friends, their care, their questions, their worries.
Talking about the worst of times.
Times you are responsible for. Things that were your fault. You made them have to worry
Daniel, the perceptive bastard he was, placed a comforting hand on the older man’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It'll be alright, mate," he said softly. "They care about you. We all do, and we don’t want to see you get hurt."
Sebastian nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself before pushing forward. The door swung open, revealing the cozy interior of the motorhome.
Lewis and Fernando were seated in the small living area, looking relaxed and like they’d already raided Daniel’s stash of non-trainer approved treats. Lewis was sprawled on the plush sofa, his fingers tapping away at his phone screen and Fernando lounged in an armchair, a half-empty glass of red wine cradled in his hand. On the coffee table was an assortment of biscuits, lollies and treats. Daniel immediately made his way over and snagged the last three tim-tams from the packet like it was his patriotic right.
"Hey man," Lewis greeted casually. "We thought you'd be longer."
Sebastian shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Charles has it handled," he replied, trying to keep the anxiety out. The other drivers would pounce on it. "He's staying with Max tonight."
Fernando nodded, taking a thoughtful sip of his wine. "That is good," he said, his accent wrapping around the words like velvet. "Charles, he understands him better than most, yes?"
Sebastian nodded as he moved further into the space, sinking into an empty armchair with a weary sigh.
“Yea. He’s been really good about the whole thing, from what I know he’s been taking care of Max for a long time now.”
“At least he has someone, mate,” Daniel called from the kitchenette where he was pouring a couple nips of scotch into a tumbler.
“I mean, it’s complicated...” Sebastian trailed off. He needed to think about how much he could say. This wasn’t his story to tell, and he wouldn’t dare take that power away from Max.
Daniel returned from the kitchenette, a drink in each hand. The ice clinked softly against the glass as he set a tumbler of amber liquid in front of Sebastian. The rich, peaty aroma of fine scotch wafted up, its familiar scent both comforting and slightly unsettling.
He wrapped his fingers around the cool glass, feeling the condensation dampen his skin. He lifted it to his lips, inhaling deeply and the smoky notes tickled his nose.
He took a sip. And then a second, a third. He might as well shoot it the way he was going. The German forced the drink back to the table, trying his best to not wilt under the scrutiny of his friend’s watch.
fuck sakes. it’s not like that anymore
Just as he was about to speak,
to justify, to defend, deny, lie,
Lewis held up a hand, his expression apologetic. "Hold on a sec," he said, pulling out his phone. "There's someone else who needs to be part of this conversation."
Sebastian's brow furrowed in confusion, but understanding dawned as Lewis put the phone on speaker and a familiar gruff voice filled the room.
"About fucking time," Kimi growled, his accent as thick as ever even through the phone speaker. "I was looking at flights."
A chuckle rippled through the room, the tension easing slightly at Kimi's characteristic bluntness. Sebastian felt a warmth bloom in his chest, a mix of fondness and gratitude for his old friend's concern.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, man," Lewis said, looking around the room. "I've got you on speaker now. You’ve got me, Nando—sorry, Fernando—Dan and Seb here."
There was a beat of quiet, then Kimi spoke again, softer this time but no less intense. "Sebastian, do you think you're going to relapse?"
The question hung in the air, and oh the weight behind it was heavy.
He felt it crush him, the way they looked at him. There was no judgement, no anger, no pity. But they were still looking at him.
He took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around the glass in his hand. Then, to everyone's surprise, including his own, he let out a small laugh. It wasn't bitter or forced, but genuinely amused, how the hell he he ended up back in this conversation? He wasn’t even the one who was sick right now.
It’s always there though.
"No, Kimi," he said, his voice steady and sure. "I'm not going to relapse. This is Max’s eating disorder, not mine."
Kimi's voice crackled through the speaker again, having waited long enough tonight, worried long enough really. "And the drugs, Sebi?”
The room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant chirping of crickets outside. Sebastian could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on him, their concern thick in the air. He took another sip of his scotch, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he searched within himself for the truth. The feeling was there, a whisper in the back of his mind that he had learned to recognise over the years.
The craving, like a phantom limb, itched in a way that couldn’t be scratched. Not by any physical means.
But as he opened his eyes and looked around the room, he saw something else. He saw Lewis, leaning forward, patient and attentive. Fernando, his face a mirror of understanding and compassion. Daniel, perched on the arm of the sofa beside him. And through the phone, he could feel Kimi's steady presence, a rock in the storm.
They were here. Here for him.
He took another deep breath, centering himself. "I... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't triggered," he admitted, his voice a little off, tense, unsure. "Not by Max, specifically, but by the whole situation. The stress, the worry, the feeling of helplessness... and then tonight—well..."
He paused, running a hand through his hair. "But I'm not going to use, guys. I'm not in that place now. And more importantly, I think you all would kick my ass."
A collective chuckle rippled through the room, breaking some of the tension.
Daniel piped up with a hint of smug satisfaction as he affectionate clapped a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. "I told you guys. Our Seb's made of sterner stuff."
Kimi grunted, a sound that could have been agreement or skepticism. "Speak up if you need to. I can’t be fucked chasing you around the world to kick your ass anymore."
He smiled, warmth spreading through his chest at his friend's form of affection. "I promise to behave."
Sebastian leaned back in his chair, the soft leather creaking beneath him as he settled into a more comfortable position. The warm glow of the lamps cast dancing shadows across the room, creating an atmosphere that seemed to cocoon them from the outside world.
The rich aroma of Daniel's obnoxiously gourmet coffee mingled with the notes of the scotch, creating a heady blend that tickled his senses as he finished the last of his drink. He probably wouldn’t be helping his case if he asked for a second one right now—not that alcohol had ever been his demon.
"Alright, then. Now that we have an understanding," Fernando said, his face twitched in a mix of concern and curiosity. "Tell us what's been going on with Max and how long have you been dealing with it?"
Sebastian leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he gazed into the depths of his now-empty glass. The ice cubes clinked softly as he set it down on the coffee table, the condensation leaving a perfect ring on the polished wood.
"Singapore, 2019," he began, his voice low and contemplative. "Charles and I were drinking after our 1-2 and he started talking."
Sebastian's fingers drummed a restless rhythm on his thigh as he continued.
"He told me he'd noticed something off about Max. Little things at first—skipping meals and the like. But then he started seeing more... sneaking off after eating, hiding his hands after going to the bathroom."
Fernando leaned forward, his eyebrows raised. "Charles must have been paying very close attention. That is... quite observant."
Sebastian couldn't help the knowing smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He wished he could surgically remove the memory of hearing Max moan Charles name in the shower in Spain. And maybe apologise to everyone he’d subjected to similar instances over the years.
He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, not even Max outside of a single teasing jab that morning. It wasn't his place to interfere in whatever was or was not happening there.
He cleared his throat, pushing the thoughts aside. "Yeah, Charles is... very observant actually, when it comes to Max," Sebastian said, choosing his words carefully. "They've gotten quite close over the years I think."
Daniel coughed, a poor attempt to hide a snort of laughter. When the others looked at him questioningly, he waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, just remembered something funny," he said unconvincingly.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow at Daniel. The Aussie was clearly trying to hide a grin, and failing quite spectacularly.
Ok, maybe he wasn’t the only one who knew too much.
"Anyway, at the time I remember thinking it couldn't be that bad. That Charles was probably overreacting, you know? And with the pressure of the sport... his dad… I thought maybe Charles was just extra sensitive to it because of how close they are."
A rueful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Ironic, isn't it? That's exactly what I used to say when people worried about me. 'It's not that bad,' 'you're overreacting,' 'it's just the stress of the season.'"
“I told you they were shit excuses, mate.” Daniel said, shaking his head slightly. “Now you finally believe me?”
"Yea, yea. So I justified it to myself as dedication, as the drive to be the best. But there's a line, and I—Max crossed it."
He paused, looking straight at Lewis "Things seemed to improve for a while. Charles said Max was doing better these past few years. But then..."
"Then he won a championship," Lewis finished softly, his face falling and rising with understanding.
He nodded, a heavy sigh escaping him. "Yeah. Especially with how it all played out last year—the pressure, the controversy, the expectations... it sounds like it all came crashing down. Max needed to cope with it all, while still pushing himself harder and harder."
The room was silent, Sebastian's words hanging heavy in the air. Even Kimi's breathing on the other end of the phone line seemed to have stilled.
"In Spain," Sebastian continued, his voice almost catching. "Max—he fainted in the paddock. And I don’t know how I knew but I just had a feeling. I asked about his eating and, well…"
He breathed deeply, counting to five in every language he could. "He felt so light in my arms, and with how scared and ashamed he was... well. It was a bitter pill to swallow."
He fiddled with his empty glass, needing the distraction. Daniel immediately passed him a pen, knowing that Sebastian needed to keep his hands busy. "I called Charles since I knew he knew more than I did. We managed to get Max back to his hotel and he ate with some coaxing."
Sebastian's voice dropped low enough that Lewis brought his phone closer so Kimi could hear. "When Charles told me how bad it had gotten... It was a lot. It was weird though, that it wasn’t me who was sick. A part of me really struggled with that—still does."
He looked up, meeting the eyes of his friends. "That's when I reached out to Dan. I knew I needed support, needed someone to keep me grounded if I was going to be involved in this. And Charles had mentioned already that Dan had noticed something was going on back when they were team mates so I didn’t feel like I was taking away Max’s autonomy."
Daniel leaned forward, uncharacteristically serious. "Yeah, I remember when Max first came up into Red Bull. There was something about him that reminded me of you, Seb. From... you know. Before."
He ran a hand through his curls, his eyes distant with memory. "He had that same fire. That scary drive that feels like it's going too far. And he always had an excuse ready when it came to food. I'd catch him staring at his reflection, sometimes pinching at his wrists and sides when he thought no one was looking."
Daniel's voice grew softer, sadder. "I tried to reach out, you know? But Maxie... he's got walls, mate. He wouldn't let me in at that point, so I just... watched from a distance. Kept an eye out, tried to make sure he was eating when he’d let me."
“And then when you called me after Spain, Seb. You sounded shaken up. Worried. Not just for Max, but for yourself too."
Sebastian's fingers tightened around the pen, his knuckles turning white. "I was terrified," he admitted softly. "Not just of what was happening to Max, but of how it was affecting me. I could feel those old thought patterns creeping back in, you know? "
Lewis reached out, swatting at Sebastian’s grip on the pen. "But you recognised it, man. You reached out. That's huge."
The German nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I did. I told Dan about the dinner Charles and I were planning at Max's place Monaco weekend."
"And I invited myself along," Daniel finished, grinning like the cat who got the cream.
"I'm glad you did," Sebastian said. "Having you there... I guess I’m still learning that I don’t have to be the sick one. I do think you traumatised the kids with that snake story, though.”
“Hey, it worked didn't it?" Daniel grinned. "Maxie ate a full meal that night, and some dessert.”
“I think he would’ve done anything to shut you up,” the German jabbed, earning a round of laughter.
Sebastian's gaze drifted to the window, where the night sky was a tapestry of stars, each twinkling like a distant memory.
"When Charles asked me to take Max out at Silverstone," Sebastian began, "I felt so far out of my depth."
He paused, running a hand through his hair, the strands catching the warm light of the room. "I knew how important it was, how much trust he was placing in me. But the thought of being responsible for Max's wellbeing, for his meal... it was overwhelming. So I asked Dan to come along again, keep things light and just to know someone was there for me if I needed it."
Fernando leaned forward, his eyes warm with pride. "Sebastian, my friend, do you see how far you've come? There was a time when you would have tried to handle this alone, when you would have pushed yourself to the brink trying to be everything for everyone."
Lewis nodded in agreement, his voice soft but firm. "'Nando's right. Recognising when you need help, reaching out to your support system - that's what recovery looks like, man."
Sebastian felt a warmth bloom in his chest, a mixture of gratitude and humility washing over him. He ducked his head, suddenly finding the pattern on the carpet quite fascinating. He was still learning to be proud of his recovery, of how far he’d come and what he was capable of.
"Thanks, guys," he murmured, his voice thick once more. "I... it means a lot to hear that. Sometimes I still feel like I'm still fumbling in the dark, you know?"
"That's because you are, idiot. We all are. But you're doing it right this time. You're not alone in the dark anymore."
A chuckle rippled through the room at the Finn's blunt wisdom. He felt something loosen in his chest, a tension he hadn't even realised he'd been carrying.
The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of everything that had been said settling. Sebastian leaned back in his chair. The patterns on the ceiling were much more interesting than the ones on the floor.
Outside, a gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of rain. The distant rumble of thunder echoed softly, not particularly surprising for the time of year.
Lewis broke the contemplative silence, his voice quiet but concerned. "So, what's the plan moving forward? How do you think we can support Max—and Charles tood?"
Sebastian shifted his eyes from the ceiling to meet Lewis. He took a deep breath, his fingers absently flipping the pen back and forth. "I think just keep a bit of an eye on them when we can," he said, his voice steady.
"If you’re not sure Max is safe to get in the car, tell me and I'll go to Christian. And if you can’t get to me tell your team principal to tell Christian and say it came from me."
Daniel nodded emphatically, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Agreed, and I'll back you up on that. We can't fuck around with this."
Lewis's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "But... will Christian believe you? No offence, but it's a pretty serious accusation, and Max is..."
Before Sebastian could respond, Daniel cut in, firm and confident. "He'll believe us, Lewis. He believed me when I sold Seb out, he knows neither of us would make something like this up—still not sorry about that by the way."
Sebastian laughed, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tipped his head. "Besides," he added, his tone dry, "I am the reason that man had to pay a team of lawyers to write a watertight sobriety clause into every Red Bull and Alpha Tauri contract. He'd be a fool not to listen."
"God, I remember that. I thought a couple of those lawyers were gonna quit and tell you to take the damn bar yourself by the time you were done running circles around them.” Daniel joked, before looking around the room. “It doesn't matter if we're in the formation lap, waiting for lights out or whatever. If there's even a shadow of a doubt about Max's safety - or anyone else’s for that matter - we speak up."
"Agreed," Lewis leaned forward. "We've lost too many good people in this sport. I'd rather face a pissed-off team principal and driver than..." He trailed off, unable or unwiling to finish the thought.
Fernando's voice was quiet but resolute. "We are family, no? On track, we fight. But this? This is life. We protect our own."
Silence fell over the room as the promises hung in the air. The gravity of the situation seemed to press down on them all, the responsibility and concern was weighty. Outside, the distant rumble of thunder grew closer, a flash of lightning briefly illuminating the room. Maybe it would rain? It would hardly be a surprise.
Suddenly, Kimi's was back, breaking the somber mood. "For fuck's sake, I thought I got rid of all this grid talk when I retired.” The Finn's exasperation was clear even through the phone. "What exactly happened tonight at dinner to start this whole thing? Last I heard, you lot were having some fancy team bonding meal or whatever—no one ever did that for us."
The shift in topic startled a laugh out of Daniel, the sound bright and incongruous in the serious atmosphere. "Leave it to Kimi to cut through the bullshit," he chuckled, shaking his head fondly.
Lewis just sighed, running a hand over his face. "It was meant to be a nice dinner, you know? Just all of us drivers getting together, no media, no teams—a chance to connect off the track."
He paused, reaching for his glass of water and taking a long sip before continuing. "Everything was going well at first. We were all chatting, joking around. But then... well, Esteban said something. Something really insensitive to Pierre."
“I believe the term ‘anorexic gym rat’ was in there somewhere.” Fernando added, tipping his now empty glass at Daniel.
The Aussie stood and made his way to the small bar in the corner of the room, grabbing the bottle of scotch and returning to refill both his and Sebastian's glass while passing the red to Fernando.
The German nodded gratefully, wrapping his fingers around the cool glass. He should probably make sure to take his time with this one or that might raise an eyebrow or two.
Lewis continued, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "It was a stupid comment, really. One moment we were all laughing, enjoying the meal, and the next... it was like a bomb had gone off."
He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "When Esteban said what he did, it was like the air got sucked out of the room. I remember looking at Seb first and all I could think was, 'God, not again.'"
Lewis's gaze flickered to Sebastian, a mixture of concern and apology in his eyes. "I'm sorry, man. I was so focused on you, on making sure you were okay. I forgot how far you’d come, that we could trust you to manage yourself.”
Sebastian nodded, understanding in his eyes. "It's okay. I get it. I'm glad you guys were looking out for me."
"You were so calm, though. You just looked at us and said, 'I need to find Max.' And then you told Hulk go get Charles when he came over to check in. That's when Dan pulled us aside."
Daniel picked at a thread in his hoodie. "Yeah, I told them you were okay and you'd been helping Max with some similar issues. I didn't go into details, just enough to let them know you weren't in danger of relapsing."
"By that point everyone was clearing out pretty quick. We decided to come back here to give you space to deal with whatever was happening," Lewis continued, his voice soft with concern. "We were halfway back to the cars when Lando found us. He asked to come along, but he was... so lost. He tried to hide it but the poor kid was so upset."
The room paused for a moment, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The soft patter of rain could be heard outside now, droplets tapping gently against the windows. The storm that had been threatening had finally arrived.
Fernando leaned forward, his dark eyes fixed on Sebastian. "What happened with Max, my friend? When you found him?"
Sebastian took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around his glass. The amber liquid swirled gently, catching the warm light of the room. "I found him in the bathroom," he said quietly. “I’m sure you can imagine the rest.”
"No," Kimi's voice cut in sharply, startling everyone in the room. "Continue. Say it, Sebi. Name it. For your own sake."
Sebastian felt a chill run down his spine. The Finn's voice was gruff, his words were harsh, but there was nothing but care in the intent.
He knew Kimi was right - naming it, speaking it aloud, would give it less power over him, would put him in control. But the words stuck in his throat, heavy and bitter. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The sound of rain intensified outside, droplets drumming against the windows in an erratic rhythm. A flash of lightning illuminated the room for a brief moment,
one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, elev-
followed by a low rumble of thunder that seemed to reverberate through his chest.
He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the glass in his hand. The amber liquid caught the warm light, shimmering like liquid gold. Without a word, he raised the glass to his lips and took a long, slow sip. The smoky flavor rolled across his tongue, burning pleasantly as it slid down his throat.
Sebastian took another deep breath, feeling the warmth of the scotch spreading through his chest.
He looked around at the faces of his friends, seeing nothing but patience and understanding in their eyes. The soft glow of the lamps cast a warm, comforting light over the room, creating a space of safety and trust.
He knew he could say nothing more if he chose. These men—his friends—would accept his silence without question.
They would trust him no less, worry no more. And that alone gave him the strength to speak.
"I found Max in the bathroom," he began, his voice low but steady. "He was... he had his fingers down his throat. He was purging."
No one reacted, no one spoke, allowing Sebastian the space to continue at his own pace.
"I pulled him back, held him until he stopped fighting me," he said. "Then I cleaned him up as best I could. His knuckles were bleeding - they must’ve caught on his teeth at some point." Sebastian fixed his eyes on a spot in the distance as he recounted the events. "Then I met Charles at the car and we brought Max back to his place. We stayed with him for a while, Dan and Charles helped get him settled in bed. Max was... he was pretty out of it by that point. Exhausted, I think. Emotionally and physically."
Lewis looked to Sebastian's left, his brow furrowed. "Dan, how's Max looking? I mean, is he...?"
Daniel sighed, his fingers drumming an absent rhythm on the back of the chair. "Physically? Yeah, He's lean, but he's not critically thin per se. Not that that tells us much of what's going on on the inside—hard to know what condition his heart is in but he doesn't seem to be in distress at this stage."
The Aussie's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. "But really it's not his physical condition that's got me worried right now, it's the escalation in behavior. Seb said that Charles said he hasn’t purged for years. If he feels like he’s losing control, if he’s not coping…"
Daniel let the sentence trail off. The soft ticking of a clock on the wall seemed to grow louder, each second as jarring as the storm outside now in full swing.
This is what you do to them. This is how badly you hurt them. And now it hurts you…
"And you, Sebi? How are you feeling?" Kimi's voice was still gruff but tinged with concern.
He almost smiled at the familiar question. How many times had Kimi asked him that over the years? How many times had he lied in response?
But not this time. This time, he took a deep breath, checking in with himself again. "I'm... still triggered," he admitted, his voice soft but steady. "Seeing Max like that, helping him through it... it brought up some old feelings. There's a part of me that wants to restrict again, to prove I can do it better and not get caught, be more disciplined than Max."
He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his friends' gazes. When he opened them again, his voice was steadier. "And a bigger part of me wants to just... check out. To get high, to numb all of this. To not have to feel so much, to not have to care so deeply."
The room was quiet again, the only sound the steady patter of rain against the windows and the occasional rumble of now distant thunder as the storm moved away. Sebastian looked around at his friends, seeing nothing but patience and love from each of them.
"But," he continued, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "I'm okay with having those thoughts. They're just thoughts. I don't have to act on them. I can sit with the discomfort, acknowledge it, and let it pass."
Lewis leaned forward, proud and concerned in equal measure. "Amen, man. Is there anything you need from us in terms of support?"
Sebastian let his eyes wander around the room again. Daniel, perched beside him on the arm of the couch, a shy grin sitting on his face. Fernando, leaning forward in his chair, a man with nothing but time and compassion. Lewis, steady and unwavering. And Kimi, his presence felt even countries away.
"Just... check in with me?" He said, his voice soft but sure. It wasn't really a question. "Help me stay accountable to myself. I don't need you to police me or anything, just... be there. Ask how I'm doing. Like you do already, maybe just a little more often. You can let Nico—your Nico—know as well if he asks, which I’m sure he will."
A chorus of agreement filled the room, each of his friends nodding and murmuring their assent.
"We gotcha mate," Daniel said, raising his glass in a small salute.
"You know I'll kick your ass if you try anything stupid." The room erupted in laughter at Kimi's affectionate declaration, the tension that had been building finally breaking. Sebastian felt a warmth bloom in his chest, a mixture of gratitude and affection for these men who had become more than just colleagues over the years.
"I'd expect nothing less, Kimi," he chuckled, raising his glass in a mock toast to the phone. "Though I'm not sure my ass could take another Räikkönen special. I still have nightmares about that time in Monaco."
Daniel's eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh man, I remember that! Weren't counting on a midnight swim huh?"
"I was fully clothed, mate," Sebastian confirmed with a grimace. "And it was five in the morning. In November."
Fernando leaned back in his chair, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Ah, but it worked, no? You were sober for the race."
"Sober and hypothermic," he retorted, but there was no heat in his words. Just fond remembrance of a time that, while difficult, had ultimately led him here.
The room settled once again, silence broken only by the soft patter of rain against the windows and the occasional rumble of distant thunder. The storm was moving away now, leaving behind a freshly washed world and the promise of a crisp dawn.
Fernando shifted in his seat, his expression growing serious once more. "My friend," he began, his accent wrapping around the words like warm honey, "are you still seeing your therapist? It is important, especially now, no?"
Sebastian nodded, grateful for the Spaniard’s concern. "Yes, I am," he confirmed, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. "I actually had a session earlier this week. We've set up standing appointments for the next couple of months, just to be safe."
Lewis nodded approvingly. "That's good. Really good. Way to be proactive, man."
Kimi spoke again, more open in his concern. "What about the kid? Will he see someone?"
Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We're working on it," he said softly. "Charles and I, we're trying to nudge him in that direction. But..." he trailed off, searching for the right words.
"But he's not ready to recover yet," Daniel finished for him, his voice uncharacteristically somber.
Sebastian nodded slowly, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "That's exactly it. All we can do right now is keep him safe and make sure there are as few barriers as possible for him to access support when he's ready." He leaned back in his chair, his eyes distant as he continued. "We can't force recovery on him. God knows, I tried to resist it long enough myself. But we can be there, ready to catch him when he falls, to offer a hand when he reaches out."
The room fell silent again, each man lost in his own thoughts. The rain had stopped all together. Sebastian almost wanted to open a window to indulge in the petrichor.
Lewis reached out, placing a warm hand on Sebastian's knee. "We're here for you too, man. You know that, right? Whatever you need, whenever you need it."
A chorus of agreement filled the room, nods and murmurs of support coming from every corner. Even Kimi added, "What they said. Don't be an idiot and try to handle this alone."
Sebastian felt a lump form in his throat, overwhelmed by the outpouring of support. "Thanks, guys," he managed, his voice thick with emotion.
Kimi cleared his throat. "Ok. I'm going now. Some of us have a job."
A chuckle rippled through the room at the grumbling. "I'll check in later in the week," the Finn added, his tone brooking no argument. "Stay out of trouble until then."
With a final goodbye, Kimi disconnected, leaving the room in a comfortable silence.
Daniel clapped his hands together, a very Daniel like glint in his eye. "Right, enough of this heavy stuff," he declared, bouncing to his feet. "Who's up for some cards?"
Fernando raised an eyebrow. "Cards? At this hour?"
"It's never too late for cards, mate," Daniel grinned, already rummaging through a drawer. "Besides, I've got a new game I've been dying to try out."
Despite their initial protests, soon enough they were all gathered around the coffee table, Daniel dealing out cards with the flourish of a Vegas croupier. The room filled with laughter and playful banter as they fumbled through the rules of Daniel's convoluted new game.
As Sebastian looked around at his friends, their faces lit with laughter and camaraderie, he felt a warmth bloom in his chest. This, he realized, was what recovery looked like. Not just the absence of his old destructive behaviors, but the presence of joy, of connection, of life lived fully and without shame.
He was beginning to think it suited him quite nicely after all.