Work Text:
Oliver looked in his mirrors. Wehrlein was gaining on him. There was only 5 laps to go and he didn't want a fight to the line; defending wasn't a weakness of his but a large gap certainly wouldn't hurt anybody.
He could do this. He just had to time it right.
He pulled the pin on the start/finish straight. Wehrlein looked smaller and smaller in his mirrors as he accelerated, and was disappearing entirely from his view in the corners. He just had to keep his cool; keeping up the pace with maximum regen in the corners.
He needed to stay in the lead of the championship. He knew how important this race would be in the overall title fight. As tempting as it was to imagine the jubilation of winning the championship in London - lifting the trophy as the world seemed to bow down to him - Oliver knew he had to focus on this race, taking it a lap at a time, focusing on the taste of the champagne hell have to drink to get that title.
As the great Niki Lauda would say, a race isn't won until it's over.
As Oliver exited the Variante del Parco for the penultimate time, he was awoken from his trance-like state, switching off the mental autopilot that comes with the high pressure world of racing. The words he longed to hear came through on the radio from his race engineer. There were no added laps; there was no need to conserve energy. He could go flat out. He had complete faith in his abilities, completely in tune with his car and surroundings. All of the trust he had in the car and the team was all he needed to push to the limit, his own energy almost transferring to the car itself; through his foot and into the acceleration pedal.
Curva Tramonto, Curva Quercia, Curva Del Rio. Each corner felt just like every other time he had expertly carried the car through on its limits. He could practically hear the cheers of the crowd and feel the elation from the team as he crossed the line. before he got there, as he exited Variante del Parco for the final time, the car began to slow.
Shit. He was running out of energy. He couldn't stop now, not when the finish was in his view, almost taunting him. Intense pressure on the acceleration did not falter as he willed the car to hang on until he crossed the line.
Wehrlein was getting closer, but the four second gap was not enough to challenge him as he coasted across the line. The roar of the crowd filled his ears as he came to a halt a hundred metres after the finish. He didn't care, he'd done all he needed to do.
Günther, Frijns and Bird smiled and offered their congratulations as they walked past. As much as they were content with their strong points finishes, they wouldn't be racing drivers if they weren't at least slightly jealous of Oliver's success that could have been too good to be true. That didn't get in the way of showing their respect, however. Their support meant so much to Oliver. Even though he wasn't particularly close to them, he valued their support all the same. It meant everything to have friendly faces who remind him of his worth when self doubt creeps in. He beat that horrible feeling into the ground that day. And Tommaso's words rang in his ears as he walked to the podium - he was reminded why self doubt had no place in his mind. He'd achieved the impossible. He defended across the line with basically no energy. That shouldn't happen, it can't happen the way he did it, and yet he did it. The post race interviews passed with such a blur that he couldn't even remember what was said (something about perfect braking to get just the right amount of regen) but all that mattered was the feeling of being up there on the podium. Standing on the top step, lifting a trophy in the air to the addicting sound and sight of a proud team, but also the admiration from his little girl as she stood watching him. It's all he could ever want and he earned it. Wehrlein and Dennis made sure to remind him of that as they soaked him through with champagne, the sticky substances clinging to his skin as it dried. Still he didn't care. All that mattered was the result for the team. The weekend went his way, and it was one step closer to everything he'd worked for, the chance to become world champion.