Chapter Text
When was enough, enough?
How much would one need to suffer before he finally proved his worth? Would one need to pay for his sins in his own blood, or was his blood the payment for the sins of his father? Was this the price that Jos Verstappen agreed to when he first placed Max into a kart? Was this the cycle that Max was destined to live in? A cycle of pain and suffering, hidden behind the joyous shouts of victory and the gleam of championship trophies.
Max certainly hoped not.
Staring in the mirror, Max inwardly winced as he looked at the blood that seeped from the cracks in the mirror. His eyes shifted down to his hand, watching as the blood steadily flowed over his still-clenched fingers. His fist still balled tightly from when he had punched the mirror just moments before. His anger slipping out when he had felt as if it wasn't Max Verstappen staring back at him in the mirror, but Jos Verstappen. A man that Max never wanted to look like, but a man who made sure that his presence was felt in everything that Max did.
A DNF. A problem that was out of Max's control, something with the engine, yet everyone was content to blame Max. The voice of Jos Verstappen echoed in his head, telling Max that he was still lingering around; the fact that Max had been a Räikkönen-Vettel since the age of 10 meant nothing when Verstappen blood ran through his veins.
Max could try to run from his past all he wanted, but he couldn't run from the demon that lived within him.
"Maxie? leijonanpentu? Can you open the door for me?"
Isä. That was Isä, Max was safe, the memory of Jos couldn't hurt him when Isä was around. But, Max couldn't move towards the door. He was frozen where he was. The crimson blood starkly standing out against the porcelain white sink. Isä would be worried the longer that Max took to answer the door. Max's age meant nothing to the love of his Isä and Papa. They would do anything and everything to get to Max when he needed them.
And he needed Isä now.
It was the thought of love that had Max's resolve crumbling.
The Twenty-Seven-year-old suddenly felt like he was seven again. Screaming and crying the first time that his Papa had to stop at the petrol station with him inside the car.
"Isä! Help me.... "
Max was aware that he sounded broken, very broken. That was the only reason that Max wasn't surprised by the sound of the door knob turning. But then, nothing happened, the door knob just kept desperately trying to twist and unlock itself. Oh yeah, Max thought to himself, locked.
But just as Max had made himself ready to move towards the door, he didn't have time to react. Not when a foot suddenly kicked against the other side. One. Two... It was on the third kick that the door splintered. A locked door wasn't going to separate a man from his son, a son who was bravely crying for help.
And, suddenly, Max found himself looking at the familiar face of Kimi Räikkönen. Isä.
"Max! Oh Maxie... I been looking all over for you. We all have. Lewis... Lewis had Bono call as soon as he heard the engine failure was you... We've been running around the paddock...."
In Kimi's arms, Max let the tears roll down his cheeks as his bloody fingers slowly unclenched, reaching out to grasp the black t-shirt that Kimi was wearing. Max could still hear Jos in the back of his head, his words pounding like a drum into Max's weakened mind. Weak. Weak. Weak. Boy's don't cry, be a man! I'll give you a reason to cry!
The words just kept repeating.
"Why can't I just escape him.... God... I can hear him in my head... I...I can see him when I look in the mirror... I can't escape him...."
Max softly whined. His words becoming mumbled and jumbled as he cried more. But, Kimi stayed strong, his arms tight around Max. And for a moment, Max's world finally did go quiet. Until there was another shouting voice coming from down the hall. One that was just as painfully familiar as Kimi and Jos's voices.
"KIM!? MAX?! Oh God... Where's my baby?"
A distraction, Max realized, realizing that if he reacted to the second voice, Kimi couldn't make Max talk about what he meant when he said that he couldn't escape him, though, both Max and Kimi knew who Max was talking about in that moment. It wouldn't have taken a rocket scientist given Max's past
"Papa!"
Max called out, his head lifting from Kimi's shoulder just as the familiar face of Sebastian Vettel turning suddenly into the bathroom doorway, his hands reached out to brace himself against the door. Tears and worry filled his eyes as he stared at his battered son. In that moment, Max wondered if Sebastian saw Max as he was, or that scared little seven year old still.
"Oh Maxie...."