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I.
In his defense, he really didn't think that the footage they filmed of Logan kicking the back of his head would be used for anything. It was kind of really out there, and they'd filmed a lot. Hell, Williams wasn't exactly uploading Team Torque at the moment, what with the strange response from the fans. He thought it had just sort of been abandoned on some intern's computer. But then an intern — Logan would feel bad about not remembering her name, but she was definitely not an intern he'd worked with before — approached him with a TikTok idea.
He always felt bad for how much work he made for the Williams team with all of his bullshit, so he tried to do whatever he could to make things less inconvenient whenever he could. If that meant not complaining when the media team asked him to do something stupid, then so be it.
This seemed to be the unlucky intern who had had to deal with the footage of Logan showing off his flexibility like an idiot.
"Can you do a back bridge?" she asked excitedly.
Logan paused, straw stuck in his mouth from where he'd been drinking water. Zandvoort wasn't the worst track for heat but he still wanted to stay hydrated. The last thing he needed was to get dehydrated and pass out. Sure, he'd just arrived on the track for media day, but the key to not suffering extra on Sunday was making sure he was hydrated well before the race. It may just be media day, but really, that meant very little in the grand scheme of things. The days passed quickly during a race weekend.
"Uh, yeah," he said because he was caught off guard. "I mean, I gotta like, start from the ground, but I can get into one, yeah."
"Fantastic," the intern said. "Can you like… walk like that?"
"You mean like some exorcist type stuff?"
"Yeah!" she lit up. "I have this idea—"
And then she outlined what she wanted from Logan. It didn't sound too awful. She wanted to film him scaring whatever poor person happened to stumble across them. It didn't see too bad all things considered. Sure, it wouldn't exactly garner him any favour, but surely he could blame the media team to smooth over any problems. The team was mostly used to it by now anyway considering they were always doing odd shit.
So he obediently followed the intern to where she wanted to set up and obediently laid down on the ground while they filmed an intro.
"So today I'm apparently weaponizing my flexibility to scare people," he said casually once the intern gave the signal to show that she was filming. He laid fully down on his back, shooting a smile up at the camera. He hoped it came off as charming. He then lifted himself into a bridge, walking his hands back a bit to emphasize the curve of his spine. His grin widened and he walked around a little. He hadn't exactly done this before, but getting the hang of it wasn't that hard.
Then it was just sitting and waiting for whatever unfortunate victim happened to be the first idiot to walk past. Conveniently it turned out to be Alex.
He was walking down the hallway in conversation with his press officer. When the intern gave the signal, he toddled out.
"Hey Alex."
When the intern had initially proposed the idea, he could admit that he was a bit skeptical for how the video would turn out. But it was an intern, and worst case scenario it became more lost footage.
He hadn't expected the absolute shriek of terror that escaped Alex's mouth. From the look of his race engineer, he was just as appalled that Alex could make that noise as Logan was.
"You bloody wanker!" Alex snapped, his hand flying up to clutch his metaphorical pearls in a very George Russell way that reminded Logan that they'd grown up together. "I could have kicked you!"
In reality, Alex had nearly toppled over in an attempt to scramble backwards and into his race engineer. Logan was beginning to get a little lightheaded by this point, so he sort of just crumpled until he was lying on the ground like a smushed bug.
"You think that'll be a good video?" he quipped. The intern just giggled so he figured that he did a good enough job.
II.
Luckily, the intern had only had him scare a few more people who all had slightly less wild reactions than Alex (although not by much) before she was satisfied and let him get back to his media day duties. It was cutting it a bit close, but he managed to find his assigned press officer and they made it to the press conference in time.
Unfortunately, the line up of drivers was quite… something. He would be there with George Russell, Max Verstappen, Esteban Ocon, and Carlos Sainz. He could understand the motives behind this particular lineup although that didn't mean this wasn't going to be one hell of an awkward time. The second Mercedes seat was allegedly going to go to Kimi Antonelli while fans (and apparently Toto Wolff alike) were frothing at the mouth for Max to make a surprise switch. Max and Red Bull were still dealing with all the drama and miscommunication about the second Red Bull seat. Esteban Ocon had made the surprise switch to Haas, although that news was quite old in media terms.
Finally him and Carlos Sainz. Logan had maintained social media silence after the official announcement of Carlos' signing with Williams had dropped. This had mostly been because Logan avoided his phone and Oscar refused to talk about it after the one conversation), but also because Logan just… didn't want to make a statement. Williams and James had certainly done enough of that for all of them. He'd made on glance at the Williams Instagram page only to see a wall of Carlos and had decided to leave that unscrutinized.
For his mental health.
But that just meant everyone was going to be clamoring for Logan's reaction to the news. Especially because James still seemed determined to oust him before the 2024 season was even over. They wanted to see how Carlos interacted with him now. It wasn't like they'd ever even spoken before any of this. Logan didn't see why now it would be anything different. Still, the media were vultures.
He was the last to arrive, but they were still setting up, so it was a simple matter of being mic'd up and then being ushered towards the seating area.
Instead of the long couch that Logan had gotten used to, this time he was greeted with separate chairs with some cushioning and arm wrests. Thankfully, the last empty chair was on the end, farthest from the moderator and Carlos. It was next to Esteban which, as far as he was concerned, was a neutral party and therefore the best seatmate that he could have gotten.
Max Verstappen was Max Verstappen, and George was Alex's friend who honestly had never paid that much attention to him. He may have been his driver mentor at one point, but that was a lifetime ago. Logan doubted he even remembered him. George theoretically had access to knowledge about his medical conditions as the GPDA representative, but he'd never really made any comments about it, so Logan honestly doubted he remembered something so trivial. There was no point in Logan ever going to George for his role as the GPDA representative considering there really was nothing he could do to help any of Logan's circumstance.
F1 was a tough sport, and it wasn't like there were any possible accommodations Logan could even think to ask for, let alone ones that would be granted. Besides, he would be gone soon enough anyway and it would all be a moot point.
Logan hurried over to the seat, rolling his shoulder as he went to try and work out some of the remaining stiffness from the back bridges that he'd held. He squirmed a bit in his seat, struggling to get comfortable. He shifted as subtly as he could to not draw attention away from the moderator and Carlos.
He eventually wormed his way into something that didn't leave him sore, but apparently he hadn't been as subtle as he'd hoped, because Esteban was side eyeing him. He flashed him a smile and settled deeper into the chair. He'd managed to get himself quite twisted up, but it stretched his limbs just right, so did it really matter? Well… it probably didn't look that great of camera.
"Logan, I can't help but ask; is that position actually comfortable?"
Logan jerked, turning to look at the moderator. The other three drivers were also staring at him with mixed facial expressions. Carlos looked confused in that way of his that Logan was pretty sure was just his resting face. Max's eyebrows had shot up to his forehead. George was proving himself to be a pod person and was sitting politely, unbothered.
Logan became suddenly very aware of exactly how he was sitting. His right leg was twisted, foot tucked behind the opposite chair leg, wedged under the side of the chair. His left leg was pulled up and resting on the wrong side of his right thigh, wedged between that and the arm rest. Logan's arms were wrapped around his calf so that he could rest his chin on his knee.
"Oh," he said a little dumbly, unfolding himself until he was sitting normally. He folded his hands in his lap, his cheeks warm with embarrassment. "My hips are a bit weird," he brushed off. "Sometimes I don't even realize how weird I'm sitting." He tried to laugh it off but it fell a bit flat.
Thankfully, the moderator was well practiced in this and smoothly moved on, beginning to question Logan about the rest of the season.
III.
Post qualifying had them all stuck in the garage for hours after others had gone back to their accommodations. Logan's side of the garage almost always had more work to do than Alex's side. At least this time it wasn't Logan's fault. He'd been on a cool down lap when Lance — on a hot lap — had locked up. it didn't matter that Logan was so far away from the racing line that it was almost comical. Lance had still managed to run directly into the back of him.
Technically, Logan didn't have to be there. He was the driver, and honestly, his time was better spent getting a good rest before the race. He just felt guilty for all the extra work that they were stuck doing. He didn't want to get in the way, but he felt somewhat duty bound? To at least stay for a little while longer…
It'd already been an hour or two past when Alex and the majority of his team had left. Logan was kind of just playing gopher — fetching coffee and tools alike. He liked watching the way the car came back together. He was no Nico Rosberg, but the actual engineering side of things interested him. He didn't exactly have the mind for it. It was honestly a miracle that he'd managed to get his GED between all of his commitments as a racer living on his own across the ocean.
He was leaning against the wall, fiddling with a pen while the mechanics did some final checks on his rear wing. Of fucking course it was when conversation had dropped off and it was quiet that he dropped the pen. Thankfully, no one seemed to be noticing him, so he bent down to pick up the pen.
His hips and left knee decided at that point to snap so fucking loudly that he saw three different mechanics jump. Logan froze, almost afraid to move lest he snap, crackle, or pop again. It didn't matter that his hip felt like it was on fire.
"Mate, what the hell did you break?" One of the mechanics with his back to Logan asked one of the mechanics who had jumped.
That mechanic looked panicked, frantically scanning the car. "It wasn't me! Maybe the metal just… did that."
The first mechanic sounded like he was 500% done with the second mechanic. "The metal just did that," he repeated.
The second mechanic made a helpless noise of confusion.
"Congratulations on volunteering to check over the entire car again, Steve!" the first mechanic said much to the despair of the second mechanic — apparently Steve.
Nobody was looking at Logan. It was like they hadn't even realized the sound had not come from the car. He carefully picked up his pen, wincing as the rotation made his hip protest. Thankfully, he didn't pop again.
"Uh, I'm gonna head out, guys," he said awkwardly. He got a bit of a mumble in return and he took that as enough of a response and did his best to rush out without looking like he was running away.
+I.
Logan didn't know whether to be grateful or irritated that the race ended up being nothing to write home about.
He hadn't crashed out and he hadn't come dead last. Then again, it was also another unimpressive finish and therefore just one more instance for James to use to try and get rid of him. He'd done his typical media — not as much as a lot of drivers because no one cares to talk to one of the backmarker drivers — and then did all that he could to get out as fast as possible. He didn't want to talk to anyone at Williams unless he had to. It wasn't like he ever had an extensive debriefing because he never did. Fifteen minutes in and out with the promise to go over data later that probably wouldn't be fulfilled even if Logan asked.
He didn't think he'd see Oscar that weekend. Not only was McLaren insanely ahead, but it had also been an incredible race for Oscar. He was sure that if McLaren's meetings didn't drag, then Oscar would be occupied with parties and celebrations. It wasn't like Hungary when there'd been controversial team orders and Lando's pettiness to ruin the mood. This time, he'd be able to enjoy his podium like he had in Spa.
Logan just wanted to get out of there. He was sore and tired, and his hotel bed was calling to him.
Unfortunately for him, he never got what he wanted because as he was making his way behind and around trailers and team motor homes, his knee decided it was done carrying his weight. It buckled with no warning and oh, there he went, spilling all over the ground. He hadn't even been speed walking so the force with which he crumpled was honestly more impressive.
He fell with a curse, scrambling to try and get back upright. Taking the back route at least meant that there was no one to see him fall like that.
Except his luck was apparently exceptionally bad because as he scrambled, he heard an exclamation of shock.
"Blimey!"
He looked up from his place on the ground, half-kneeling and trying to mentally negotiate with his trembling knee.
"You alright? That was quite the spill there."
George Russell made his way over to him quickly from where he'd apparently been standing behind the Mercedes motor home. "I'm fine!" Logan hurried to say, continuing to stand up. He was not okay, and that became evident when his left leg refused to bear weight again and he stumbled. By then, George had arrived by his side and he grabbed onto Logan's forearm, pulling him upright and stabilizing him.
"Are you sure?" George asked skeptically. He was still holding a good amount of Logan's weight as he wavered on his one good leg.
"Yeah, this happens sometimes," he admitted.
George raised an eyebrow at him. He didn't ease up on his grip on Logan's arm. "Your knee randomly gives out on you?"
Logan winced. Yeah, that sounded bad. "Never in the car," he hurried to say. "Adrenaline carries me through there. Just… after races sometimes."
George's brows furrowed. "You have that—"
"Hypermobility," Logan cut him off, pulling away from George as gently as he could. He was still unsteady, and he was definitely standing more on one leg than two, but at least he wasn't leaning on George so much. "It's not a big deal."
George still looked concerned, but in that polite way of his. "Does this happen often?"
Logan waved a hand. "It's not a big deal," he repeated. "Like I said, it's never been a problem while racing."
"It affects you walking?" George brought back up, clearly puzzled by Logan's reaction.
But Logan was already one leg out the door out of no choice of his own. Sure, James knew he had chronic medical conditions, but they'd never talked about it past having the team doctor say it wasn't likely to cause a problem during racing. The adrenaline of the drive kept him able to power through his body's protests just like every other driver. What happened outside of the car wasn't anyone's business but his.
George was a stickler for the rules though. He was supposed to advocate for them, but for Logan there really wasn't anything to be done. But he didn't want George to go to someone out of polite concern and put more scrutiny on Logan. If he had to go, he wanted to go quietly, gently. No fighting and clawing. No desperation and pain. He didn't want the drama and spectacle. It would just make everything worse.
"Not often," he said after what was maybe too long of a pause. "Just a bit more strain this time."
George stared at him for a long moment, seemingly trying to figure out if Logan was honest or not. He eventually seemed content enough with Logan's answer and moved on. "Do you need help getting to your car? Is there anyone I can call?"
Logan laughed it off, trying to disguise his relief at George dropping his interrogation. "Nah mate, I'm alright. Knee just protested for a minute there. Momentary lapse."
"If you're sure…" George said, reaching out and awkwardly patting Logan on the shoulder.
Logan smiled at him and did his best to walk away. His knee held thankfully. He didn't know how he would have gotten away sans additional trouble and interrogation if he'd collapsed again.