SPA
Summary: When Yn has a scary accident on track, Nico is immediately there for her. After all, she is just a kid.
Rain still clung to the edges of the track from the morning showers, thin beads glistening on the curbs as the grid buzzed with anticipation. Spa had always felt alive, breathing with the mountains and forests around it, but today it throbbed with something else — excitement, nerves, a strange electricity in the air.
And for Yn, it meant everything.
At eighteen, standing in her Red Bull suit, helmet tucked against her hip, she felt like the world had finally opened up to her. Spa was her favorite track. She had told Max so more than once during the week — excitedly, shyly, and with that spark in her eyes that always made him smile.
“It feels like flying here,” she had whispered to him on the track walk two days earlier.
Max had ruffled her hair. “Then let’s make sure you fly in the good way. Not the other one.”
She had laughed. She always laughed with him.
Now, hurtling through Eau Rouge on lap 17, she wasn’t laughing — but she was alive with adrenaline, her heart hammering as she pushed the car as hard as she dared.
Max was P1.
Oscar was P2.
And she — she was right behind them in P3. Holding strong. Holding steady.
Except for the pressure behind her.
Lando.
He was quicker in the middle sector. She could feel him breathing down her neck through the radio static.
Her engineer’s voice crackled in. “Yn, Lando is half a second behind. Keep your line. You’re doing great.”
She swallowed. “Copy… but he’s moving weird. I— I don’t like it. He’s weaving a lot.”
“We see it. Stay focused.”
Her fingers tightened on the wheel.
She knew Lando wasn’t dirty. He was aggressive, sure, but never reckless — except today, something felt off. Maybe the pressure, maybe the championship, maybe the rain still lingering near the edges of the asphalt.
Or maybe he simply wanted P3 too much.
They approached Les Combes.
She exhaled shakily, trying to keep the car steady.
But Lando dove.
Too fast.
Too close.
The world snapped.
A violent jolt.
Metal against metal.
Her car’s rear lifted.
The radio dissolved into static.
She felt herself leave the ground — weightless — then slam, hard, as the car flipped.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four.
She lost count after that.
Her helmet hit something with a crack that echoed inside her skull. Her arms curled instinctively into her chest, her body thrown around as the chassis spun like a toy in a storm.
When the car finally crashed down on its side and skidded to a horrid, scraping halt, everything went silent.
Her ears rang.
Her breathing was thin and sharp.
The world blurred.
Then, faintly, she heard it:
“Yn? YN! If you hear this, please respond!”
She tried to speak, but only a painful breath escaped her lips.
Everything felt far away.
The marshals were running before the dust even settled. Cameras zoomed. The crowds had gone eerily quiet.
Seven minutes.
Seven unbearable minutes.
The medical team waited for the car to be stabilized. The marshals surrounded her, one shouting instructions, another checking the fuel leak, another making sure the fireproof foam was ready.
Then — finally — she moved.
A trembling hand gripped the halo. Her helmet tilted up.
A collective gasp rolled over Spa.
She pushed herself free — legs shaking, arms weak — and slid out of the destroyed car. Her knees nearly gave out the moment her feet touched the ground.
A female marshal — mid-30s, kind eyes, blonde ponytail — reached her first. “Hey, sweetheart, I got you. I got you…” She wrapped Yn in her arms without hesitation.
Yn clutched her suit, shaking uncontrollably. She wasn’t crying yet — shock sat like cold hands around her throat — but she was close.
More marshals crowded around.
But someone else was running.
A figure sprinting across the runoff area, helmet discarded somewhere behind him, breath heavy with panic.
Nico.
Nobody had realized he had stopped his car on the side of the track. Nobody knew he had jumped out and ran straight toward her.
He slid the last few feet, catching himself with one hand on the ground before grabbing her shoulders.
“Yn! Yn, look at me. Hey— hey, look at me.”
She blinked, finally focusing on his face.
He gently removed her helmet, hands shaking. “Are you hurt? Talk to me. Come on, kid. Talk to me.”
Her lips parted.
No sound.
Her breath hitched instead, chest jolting.
“Yn, answer me, please.” He cupped her face now, thumbs brushing her temples. “Are you hurt anywhere, Liebling?”
A tiny nod. Barely perceptible.
His eyes softened, but fear still shadowed them. “Where?”
She swallowed a sob. “M-my ribs… and my head… and— I don’t… I don’t know…”
“Okay. That’s okay. It’s okay, you’re okay—” He pulled her against him, hugging her so tightly she finally let go.
The dam broke.
She sobbed — real, shaking, broken sobs — her fists gripping the front of his suit. Nico held her, one hand on her back, the other cradling her head.
“Shh… shh… you’re safe now. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, Liebes.”
The female marshal stroked Yn’s back, whispering soft words. “Just breathe, darling. Let it out. You’re okay. You’re so, so brave.”
Yn cried harder.
Her legs finally gave out, and Nico lowered with her, keeping her pressed to his chest as he knelt on the tarmac.
The medical car arrived minutes later.
“We need to get her checked immediately.”
Nico stood, still holding her. “I’m coming with her.”
Nobody argued.
They put her in the medical car. Nico climbed in beside her, taking her hand instantly when she reached for him without even looking.
Her voice was weak. “Don’t go…”
“I won’t. I’m right here.”
At the Medical Center, Max was pacing when they arrived, hands shaking, eyes red. Isaac and Ollie stood behind him, equally anxious.
He rushed toward the door the second it opened.
“Yn!” His voice cracked. “Zusje, come here—”
But she was still clinging to Nico’s arm, too scared to move without him.
Nico whispered to her, “It’s okay. Max is here. You’re safe.”
She finally released him.
Max pulled her into his chest instantly, wrapping both arms around her head, pressing a kiss to her helmet-less hair.
“I thought—” His breath broke. “God, Yn, I thought we lost you.”
She whimpered softly, burying herself into him.
Ollie arrived right after, eyes wet. “Yn, you scared the hell out of us.”
She reached a trembling hand toward him. He took it and squeezed.
Isack hovered nearby, unsure if he should hug her or not, but she leaned into him when he approached. Isack rubbed her shoulder gently while whispering, “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
The doctor called her name, and she was guided into the exam room.
Max stayed outside, pacing again.
Ollie sat down, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. “That crash— it didn’t look survivable…”
Nico was the only calm one, leaning against the wall, trying to slow his own breathing.
He had seen a lot in his career.
But nothing had hit him like watching her car flip through the air.
Max looked at him suddenly. “You were with her. Thank you. I mean it… thank you.”
Nico nodded once. “Anyone would’ve done it.”
But Max shook his head. “No. Not anyone.”
Nico didn’t respond.
The moment Nico stepped outside, cameras surged toward him.
“Nico! Why did you stop?”
“What made you run to her?”
“You abandoned your car on track — why?”
“Were you the first one to reach her?”
He lifted a hand to quiet them, jaw tight, eyes tired.
“Look…” He exhaled slowly. “If it were my kid out there flipping like that, I would want someone — anyone — to run to them. Not wait. Not watch. Act.”
The reporters fell silent.
Nico glanced back toward the medical center door.
His voice cracked just barely. “You can all thank God she’s alive.”
And for the first time in a very long time, the media didn’t ask anything else.
Inside, Yn was cleared for major injuries, but she had bruised ribs, a mild concussion, and emotional shock.
When she stepped out of the exam room, she looked smaller, wrapped in a blanket around her shoulders, eyes swollen and red.
Max walked to her. “Want a hug?”
She nodded.
He held her again, arms protective. Ollie hugged her after, gentle and careful.
“Don’t scare us like that again.” He whispered.
She let out a weak laugh. “Wasn’t… really my plan.”
Nico approached last.
She reached for him without hesitation.
He picked up her hand, squeezing it. “How are you feeling now?”
“Tired… sore… and scared.” Her voice cracked. “Thank you for coming to me. When I got out… I didn’t know where I was. And then you were just there.”
His eyes softened. “Of course I was. I’m glad you’re talking now.”
“I’m sorry I cried on you…”
“Don’t be stupid, kid. Cry all you want. I’ll be there again if you need it.”
She smiled weakly.
Max wrapped an arm around her shoulders again, pulling her gently against his side. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet, yeah?”
As they walked out together, Nico lingered behind for a moment, watching her.
Alive.
Shaken.
But alive.
He let out the breath he’d been holding since the crash.
Spa had taken many things over the years.
This time, miraculously — it hadn’t taken her.
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
