Chapter Text
What would you do if you were abandoned in a gas station?
Would you try to follow after the car that left you?
Would you scream and cry and beg for them to stop?
Would you wait and hope that they would come back?
Max has tried every option there is. But his father never stopped for him. He did come back though, so there's that.
It was not a big deal now since it was not the first time this happened. It was at first but Max quickly got used to it.
This time wasn't the first and it certainly won't be the last.
He was sure of that.
The gas station store in front of him was familiar; a two story run down building with flickering lights hanging on its front, shining with its last life line. The new guy behind the counter couldn't care less about his presence outside, and Max didn't want to enter the store uninvited without actually buying anything. He felt that that would be rude.
The cold night air hit his skin, causing him to shiver. The shirt on his back was far too thin and worn out to keep him warm. Max thought back to the late Mr. Jan, the old Dutch man who used to own that store. He hasn't seen the man since they moved to Netherlands. He missed their small conversations over hot chocolate.
The parking area behind him was deserted; the last car leaving just over two hours ago, if the clocks on the fuel dispensers are right.
The night was quiet and eerie. That gas station was located pretty secluded from the main highway road; another reason why his father always chose this particular one to teach him a lesson. Max could have sworn he heard a howling of some kind from the forest behind, or maybe it was the exhaustion speaking.
Today's race was extremely heavy and draining; with what being 8th and other bullshits the race entailed. At least he wasn’t DNF. That would be another shitshow he has to handle at home later.
Max was worn out and hungry, starving really. He had only eaten that energy bar Carlos passed him after the race and nothing else. His father had thrown out the little hazelnut pack he hid in his bag.
00:27
Midnight has passed for a while.
Six hours. That's how long his father has fucked off somewhere after dropping him by the road. Not even in front of the store.
Jesus fucking Christ, he really need to control his sarcasm. Another beating doesn't sound too enjoyable at the moment.
The first time, his father had left him to walk back home from Sarno. Sarno is located in Italy. He had to call his mother to pick him up at that time, borrowing a kind stranger's phone with his super limited and accented italian. His parents argued for hours that day, and his mom never really argued before. At least, not since the divorce.
The second time, his father left for a good 30 minutes. It was the same amount the next time, and the next. But then he upped the time and it kept getting longer. Last time when he ended up DNF, he was left at some random UK gas station for eight hours. So six hasn't even reached the highest record yet, it wasn't so bad.
Max is nothing but adaptable. His father will come back, he knew that for sure. How long? He wasn't so sure in that aspect. He took a deep breath, shuddering as a cold breeze pricked his skin, he should have accepted the jacket Franz offered in the garage.
Another few minutes passed on the station without anything noteworthy happening, when a blinding light suddenly entered his vision.
Is that him?
He started to recite again the apology speech he had prepared for the past hours when he saw the logo on the car, a Ferrari. Definitely not his father. Max let out a disappointed sigh.
The car stopped in front of him; right at the sidewalk facing the huge glass window of the store. He didn't pay attention when two men exited the car.
“Max?” a familiar voice called out to him.
Blinking, he looked up at the voice in surprise. “Seb? Kimi?”
“Kid? What are you doing out here?” Seb approached him, his arms linked together with the Finnish driver.
Are they together? Max didn't know that.
But then again, Max didn't know lots of things because, “Mingling won't help you with your race!” He winced at the memories.
Max tensed when a red bomber jacket was draped over him, a Ferrari team jacket. His father wouldn't approve of this, team loyalty and shit. He looked up at the Finnish driver standing in front of him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Wear it,” Kimi said before he turned at Sebastian, talking through that weird telepathy ability they share. The man then went inside the store.
Max turned towards Sebastian, baffled, “Isn't he cold?”
“Kimi ran hotter than a fucking heater, he's fine,” Sebastian waved his hand dismissively as he sat next to him. Max giggled at the statement.
“So, what are you doing out here?”
Max tensed again, hoping that Sebastian would drop the subject if he stayed quiet, but the German was a patient man; he had once heard someone describe him. Max hesitantly opened his mouth, tapping his foot; feeling uneasy, “I'm waiting for father.”
“Is he inside? Did you guys run out of gas on the highway? Do you need help?”
Max rubbed his nape awkwardly, surprised at the thoughtfulness, “Um..no?”
“No to what?”
“To all of them, I guess.”
“What happened then? Why are you here alone?”
“Uh, how should I say it?” Max winced. He rested his face on his palm, thinking. “He… left me?”
Sebastian's eyes widened, his voice quieter like he was being careful as he continued, “Here? Why?”
Max shrugged, “Cause I finished eight and tried to justify the result to him.”
“How long have you waited here?”
“Almost seven now.”
“Hours?” Max nodded.
Oh, he just realized how bad that sounds.
“Max-”
“It's not as bad as it sounds, really,” Max cut the German off. “He only left me here since I still finished above P10. It would be worse if I DNF but I didn't, so all good. No offense to you, by the way,” he rambled.
“Max, what does he do when you're DNF? Does he...hit you?”
“Don’t all parents punish their kids like that?” Next to him, Max could hear a choking sound. “You good, man?”
“No, I'm not.”
“Are you cold? Do you want me to call-”
Sebastian slid closer to him, bringing him into a side hug, hands caressing his hair tenderly. Max stiffened, feeling awkward in the soft gesture. "Seb?"
“Max, parents aren't supposed to hit their children at all, or leave them in a gas station at midnight for that matter. That's abuse.”
“Oh." Max paused. "It is?” Sebastian tightened his hold.
It would be a lie if Max said he was completely unaware of what's happening to him, but hearing the truth from Sebastian erased all the doubt he had. Or rather, the doubt that many adults had planted in him. That the hit he took was just another kind of love parents gave to their children. Tough love, they called it.
Max has never felt the love in those bruises. Not the way people on the internet described it as. Huh, maybe he was also on the wrong side of the internet.
What should he do now?
“You know I can't turn a blind eye towards child abuse, right?” Sebastian’s voice brought him back.
“What are you going to do?”
“I might have to call the child protection service.”
“Then… what are they gonna do?”
“The most likely solution would be removing you from your father's care.”
No. He remembered why he didn't try to argue about the abuse.
“You can't.” Max broke free from the side hug. He looked at the German with a hardened expression. “You can't take away racing from me.”
“What? How is that taking away racing from you?” Sebastian asked, confused.
Max scoffed, turning away, “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then help me understand,” Sebastian reached out to turn Max’ gaze towards him.
“Why should I?”
“Because I want to help you, kid.”
“Not a kid-”
“You are a kid.” Max pouted at that. “You are a kid and I’m the adult. I have to know."
"Why? Why do you have to know?"
"Because an adult's job is to protect children. Please tell me, Max.”
But all the other adults never did what Sebastian is doing right now. What makes them different?
“You know racing isn't exactly cheap, right? Who else can support me but him?” Max frowned at his own words, he never realized how desperate he was now that he's voicing it out.
“Racing is my only joy in life, and my father- he's the only one able to help me. Even if it costs me everything else,” Max chuckled in self-deprecation. “My mom can't afford to support me, I can’t support myself, nobody else can. The CPS definitely won't.”
Silence engulfed the two.
“I can.”
Max stiffened at the declaration. He turned towards Sebastian, befuddled. His hearing seems to fuck with him that night. “Did you say something?”
Sebastian looked at him with determination in his eyes, “I can support you.”
Max was dumbfounded, “What?”
Why would Seb go that far for him?
They barely knew each other. Max was just the new kid who never even warmed up to the other drivers because of his father's leash around his neck.
Max couldn't understand the German at all. What would he gain from helping him?
“I'll help you.”
“Why would you go that far?” he asked the man, incredulous.
“Because I want to help you,” and Max hated how genuine Sebastian sounded.
Max hated how kind Sebastian was treating him. He hated how badly he wanted Sebastian to help and he hated how he wanted to believe that maybe Sebastian really was just a nice guy.
He hated it.
Because humans were not a kind creature. He knew it first hand when his teachers punished him without questions for fighting back bullies when he turned up black and blue in class. He knew it first hand when the police shook his father's hands with an envelope slipped between them when they took him back after a runaway attempt and reprimanded him for being naughty. He knew it first hand when the housekeeper turned a blind eye to his desperate begging and screaming.
Humans were not a kind creature.
And Max wasn't supposed to trust humans. He wasn't supposed to trust Sebastian, he wasn’t supposed to trust anyone. He couldn't trust anyone. No one but himself.
So why did he want to trust Sebastian now?
Why?
So he scoffed, mocking, because Max needed Sebastian to react badly and prove him right. He wanted Sebastian to get mad and yelled at him and prove that Max couldn’t trust him and that he was being an idiot, just like his father said he was.
“Yeah, right.” He stared at the man dead in the eye. “What do you want in return?”
He saw Sebastian paused, “Oh kid..kid, I don't want anything. I just want to help you, Max.”
“But why?!” he yelled. He knew he was lashing out his buried anger to the wrong person, but he couldn’t care less. Max has to be right. He has to be. “I don't understand! Why would you want to help me?!”
Because he couldn’t afford to be wrong. To have the very foundation the wall in his heart built upon be broken by one act of kindness- to regain his trust in people just because Sebastian turned out to be a good person? Max wouldn't be able to handle that. He couldn't.
“Because it's the right thing to do!” The German retorted, a glint on the corner of his eyes.
But the universe has never been on Max’ side.
Max gasped, a sense of guilt surrounding him, “Seb, are you crying? I'm sorry, I-”
Sebastian pulled him into a hug, “I want to help you because it's the right thing to do, Max.”
“Don't make empty promises, Seb, please. I don't- I don’t need another false hope.” Max clawed the red jacket on the man's back, holding on for dear life as tears started to obscure his sight.
“I never backed on my words. I'll support you, I'll cheer for you, I'll take care of you, Max. Let me take care of you.”
“Swear it,” Max whispered, voice trembling. “Swear it on your mother's name,” he challenged one last time.
The German pulled back, taking Max’ hands gently in his, rubbing the freezing skin warm as he promised, looking at the teenager with determination in his eyes, “I swear.”
Max’ voice caught on his throat, and he broke into a relieved wail; one that has been suppressed for so long.
Max was wrong, this might be the last time he would be left in that gas station.