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One [Fast] Lap

Summary:

It wasn’t until George, Charles and Alex cornered Lewis in Mexico City, matching expressions of concerns on their faces, that Lewis realized he should have thought to check on Lando sooner.

Sure, Lando had his team, and Jon, but…

Lewis had already known that the McLaren driver had endured a dismal qualifying after making a mistake on his only run in Q1 and failing to make it through to Q2, ending up 17th on the grid. He’d also known how frustrated Lando had been in recent weeks, struggling to reconcile his performance with perceived mistakes, while still chasing that elusive first win.

Especially after Qatar.

Notes:

This fic/addition to the series was prompted by Tasha, who requested "a scene with Lewis and Lando, where Lewis comforts Lando after hearing the things he has been saying about his driving". While Lewis comforting Lando may not have spawned directly from hearing the things Lando was saying, I hope this still fits with what you were imagining! 💜

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It wasn’t until George, Charles and Alex cornered Lewis in Mexico City, matching expressions of concerns on their faces, that Lewis realized he should have thought to check on Lando sooner.

Sure, Lando had his team, and Jon, but…

Lewis had already known that the McLaren driver had endured a dismal qualifying after making a mistake on his only run in Q1 and failing to make it through to Q2, ending up 17th on the grid. He’d also known how frustrated Lando had been in recent weeks, struggling to reconcile his performance with perceived mistakes, while still chasing that elusive first win.

Especially after Qatar.

He just hadn’t realized how far the younger Brit had fallen into his mental spiral until three-quarters of the self-proclaimed “Twitch Quartet” were staring at him with puppy eyes.

“He will not talk to us,” Charles explained, all the while gesticulating wildly. “He has locked us out of his hotel room and he is not answering text messages – he has even ignored Carlos and Max.”

“He never ignores Carlos,” Alex contributed unhelpfully.

“He sometimes ignores Max,” Charles pointed out.

“We all ignore Max sometimes,” Alex rebutted without hesitation.

“But Lando never ignores you,” George interrupted the pair. “Will you at least try to speak with him? We’re worried, Lewis.”

So, of course Lewis was going to check on Lando. If not only for his own peace of mind, but because he was genuinely worried about Lando – and he hated to see the rest of them worried as well. As it was, Charles was practically vibrating in place with nervous energy. Even Alex seemed on edge, clearly town between soothing Charles and reigning George back in before he truly got on a tear.

“I’ll check on him,” Lewis soothed. “I should have checked on him as soon as I saw what happened in Qualifying, really.”

All three boys are quick to reassure him that he’d done nothing wrong, practically tripping over themselves to put Lewis at ease. But he saw the way they relaxed, tension and fear bleeding out of their muscles as they slipped back into familiar banter, barely noticing when Lewis slipped away to track Lando down.

Predictably, Lando didn’t answer when Lewis turned up at his hotel room door. He didn’t have a spare key this weekend, either – they hadn’t found a moment to exchange keys before Qualifying – so Lewis found himself at the front desk, doing his best to subtly sweet-talk the receptionist when Jon appeared at his shoulder.

“Hi, Lewis,” Lando’s trainer greeted him, before waving him towards a more secluded corner of the lobby.

“Hey, Jon,” Lewis greeted in turn.

“Lando was in a bad way, after Qualifying,” Jon shared quietly. “I brought him back here, but… Well, you know.”

“Yeah, man, I know,” Lewis sympathized, even as worry constricted his heart.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, but I thought that maybe…” Job trailed off, scrubbing worriedly as the back of his neck before seemingly coming to a decision. After taking a deep breath, the other man dug into his pocket, producing a key card with a grim expression on his face. “Maybe he’ll talk to you?”

Lewis snatched the card before Jon could change his mind – but he didn’t take off before flashing the man a tight smile.

“I’ll do what I can.”

Then he was gone, making his way back to Lando’s room as quickly as he could. The key card proved effective, gaining him access to Lando’s already darkened room. The curtains were drawn tight, and the lights off, but –

“You could suffocate under there, you know,” Lewis offered conversationally as he toed off his shoes before making his way over to the lump under the covers on the bed that was – most likely – Lando Norris.

“Can’t,” Lando grumbled. “‘S not possible for an adult to suffocate under a blanket.”

Lewis snorted, but dropped down beside the Lando-shaped lump regardless, letting his arm rest on top of the blanket-swathed McLaren driver.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not much to talk about, is there? I fucked up, again,” Lando grumbled. “Might as well not even show up on Saturdays.”

“Lando –”

“What do you want me to say?” Lando snarled, head finally popping up from the covers to glower at Lewis. “I locked up, I went off on my one lap. I had one opportunity, and I needed to put a lap in, but instead I locked up and I went off.”

“You did, but your team never should have put you in that position,” Lewis pointed out, unruffled by the curly-haired menace glaring daggers at him from under the covers. Honestly, the entire effect was kind of ruined by the sheet lines on Lando’s face and the mess of curls atop his head, anyways.

“But –”

“You should have had more than one go at a fast-lap,” Lewis reaffirmed. “Sure, there was the yellow flag from Fernando’s spin-off, but your team should have contingency plans for that. Should have put you out earlier, or on different tyres – it’s not like it’s uncommon.”

“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve fucked up Qualifying lately,” Lando argued back. “I make a lot – too many – of mistakes. And now I’ve messed up another weekend.”

But Lewis can hear how Lando sounds less fierce now, can see the way his lip is wobbling – just slightly – as he fights against the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

So, Lewis waits.

Inevitably, Lando breaks – all his frustration and rage and fear bursting from him, not unlike an unstoppable flow of water from a crumbling dam.

“It hurts, Lewis,” Lando admits. “It hurts me. It just hurts me that I’ve messed up again today, when I should have at least been in Q3, if not fighting for a spot on the front row.”

And then –

“I know it shouldn’t, but it hurts even worse because Oscar’s done a better job than me again this weekend,” Lando admits, voice small and watery. “And I know – that is, he deserves to be in the position he is today. He’s a good driver too. Just like I’m starting where I deserve to be because I’ve just done a bad job.”

Lewis yearns to pull Lando to him, to stem the flow of self-depreciating word vomit by smothering your younger Brit in a bone-crushing hug. But he holds back, know that Lando has more to say – more that he needs to get out.

It’s not unlike lancing a wound.

“It just… These last few weekends, they take over everything,” Lando admits. “I can’t help it, Lewis – I can’t help that I think of the negative things way more than the positive things.”

“I know, Lando,” Lewis contributes softly.

It’s not the first time they’ve talked about mental health – Lando’s, Lewis’, just as a general concept. So, Lewis knows Lando struggles with his mental health. More so, in 2019 and 2020, but it’s not something that just goes away.

“I know, I know, it’s just… It’s just the way I think, it’s the way my head works,” Lando responds. “Sometimes, I hate it.”

Once, Lewis had kept his own struggles to himself, preferring to deal with them behind the scenes, away from speculation and publicity. Lately, he’d started speaking publicly about the strain all F1 drivers were under, both mental and physical. He’d never admit it, but a large part of his own change in mentality had stemmed from seeing how the younger generation of drivers – from Lando, to George, Alex, Charles, Pierre, Esteban… even Max – struggled to meet the increasing demands placed upon them. He wanted to change that for them - desperately so - even if all he could so was ensure that they knew they were not alone.

“Have you spoken with your therapist lately?” Lewis prodded gently.

Lando glowered at him from where he was still half-hidden under the blankets, which was an answer enough in and of itself, but –

“I’ve been too busy, haven’t I?” Lando griped. “Not much time to chat about my feelings when McLaren’s karting me from sponsorship event to race weekend to photoshoot, is there?”

“We set you up with a therapist that offers remote services for a reason, Lando,” Lewis reminded him.

Because Lando had point-blank refused to see McLaren’s staff psychologist, worried about what might be shared with the team (despite patient confidentiality), so Lewis and Jon had snuck around behind the scenes to find a sports psychologist who would work with Lando discreetly, often remotely, and – perhaps more importantly – on short-notice when needed.

“I know, it’s just… Hard, finding the time, innit?” Lando mumbled.

“I think you should set up an appointment – or ask Jon if he can do it for you,” Lewis pushed gently. “If not for before the race, then soon afterwards.”

“But –”

“If you want to perform on-track, you need to put in the work in the back,” Lewis pointed out. “Whether it's working through therapy, whether it's taking on like finding different outlets, whether it's reading more, whether it's doing meditation – you have to do the work, Lando.”

A sigh, and then –

“I know.”

Then –

“It’s just hard.”

Lewis didn’t hesitate to pull Lando into a hug this time, politely ignoring the way he was sniffling and fighting tears in favour of carefully wrapping the younger man up in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry that I forgot,” Lando sniffled wetly. “It’s stupid, I know, and now I’m wasting your time, and –”

“Hey, hey,” Lewis cut him off firmly. “You’re never – never – wasting my time, alright? Leave that kind of talk for Max – I don’t need to hear it from you too.”

Lando chuckled wetly, but nodded against Lewis’ collarbone.

“I’m telling him that you were making fun of him,” Lando mumbled, ever the youngest – even now that he wasn’t, technically, the youngest driver on the grid anymore.

“Go ahead,” Lewis responded, unbothered. “I think he’d be happy to hear from you – they were all worrying about you when I was leaving the track.”

No need to tell Lando that a few of his fellow drivers had actively sought Lewis out – that knowledge would probably just send him spiraling again, worrying about having wasted other people’s time. As if his friends considered enquiring after his well-being a waste of their time.

“Really?”

“Of course, Lando,” Lewis responded. “There are so, so, so many people who care about you. You are so loved.”

Notes:

I've got a busy week ahead, but I'll definitely be back next Sunday with another prompted side-story/addition to this series! 😊

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