#f1 sickfic

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

You Make It Feel All Right - LN

Summary: Y/n has been hiding that she's sick so when she takes a turn and ends up taking herself to A&E for a precaution, Lando returns home ready to take her out on a date and finds she's not home waiting like she promised.

Themes/warnings: Some graphic description of sickness

Word count: 1.4k

Lying to Lando isn't a habit y/n really wants to get herself into. She doesn't enjoy it but there's nothing he'll do but worry because he has to work, and it's not like he isn't aware she's sick. She didn't go to the race weekend with him because she didn't feel up for the flight but he wasn't made aware just the extent of how ill she is.

However, this morning she really took a turn and her sick was just a little pink.

Now she's waiting in the hospital for tests to come back just to make sure she's not dying. This probably should've been the moment she told Lando but if it's nothing then she's stressed him unnecessarily.

Though she doesn't pay enough attention to the time since she's dozing in an out of a fever induced sleep. So she has no idea that Lando has returned to Monaco with Max and Pietra in tow.

"You guys just wait here, I'll run up and grab y/n then we'll go for dinner." Lando smiles climbing out his car and tapping the roof as he rushes up to his apartment. "Baby! Get dressed, we're going on a date! Max and P are waiting in the car for us so we gotta hurry!"

Silence. Not even a creak of movement.

"Baby?" Lando calls out with a small frown before beginning to call out for her just walking around the apartment. "Baby? Are you hiding?"

He pulls his phone out, checking that she's not left any messages or that he's missed some calls. Then as a last resort he checks her location and practically feels his heart plummet when he sees her little dot in hospital.

"Fuck. Ah fuck. Baby, pick up the phone." Lando curses rushing back out the apartment as he tries to call her and it just rings till her voicemail sounds. "Fuck. What the fuck happened?"

He nearly dives in the car and doesn't even explain where they're going before they're moving.

"Fucking hell mate, what happened?" Max questions as he clings onto the handle of the door.

"Y/n is in the hospital. I can't get hold of her. There's no note. She's not left any messages or tried to call. I don't know why she's there." Lando rambles actually being grateful that Monaco is such a small place so it's not a far drive even if he can't speed like he wants to.

"I've got the car. You go." Max states when they pull up and Lando is trying to find somewhere to park. "We'll catch up."

"Thanks mate." Lando rushes out before he disappears into the hospital.

It takes him some time to get y/n's location since the staff are uncertain about trusting him to be who he says he is to her. But as soon as he knows, he's running through the hallways to get to her room, where she's actually being let go with some antibiotics. It's the flu but with her immune system weakened, she's got a chest infection and tonsillitis. The blood in her sick was purely from her throat being raw from the acid and bile.

Lando actually almost clotheslines her from rushing around a corner but both him and the nurse catch her frail body before she actually falls.

"Hey-hey, baby." Lando states looking at the young woman with some serious concern.

"Lando? You're here." Y/n mumbles then moving away to try and avoid getting him sick. "You can't be near me I'm sick and it's contagious."

"Home and rest. Keep her hydrated, that's important. If she can't maintain fluids, bring her back."

"Thank you." Lando nods taking y/n's hand despite her trying to evade his touch but he forces her hand into his own and holds it tight enough that she can't force him to let go. Not that she really has thee energy to do so.

"If you can get some food into her tomorrow when the antibiotics have kicked in that would probably help her perk up but if her stomach can't handle it then don't force it. The last thing needed is her being sick anymore."

Lando makes a mental note before beginning the walk to get y/n home.

"You should've told me, baby. I could've have someone come take care of you and make sure you were ok-which you clearly weren't." Lando mumbles not wanting to lecture the young woman because she's just not in the right physical state to fight about anything.

Y/n actually puts on a mask that she'd take from one of the nurses when she's in the car though Max lets her take the passenger seat and she opens the window feeling the cooler night air sting against her burning skin.

"I can drop you guys off for the dinner. The reservation is still there." Lando comments making the two immediately decline while y/n remains silent, wanting to insist they go but it actually hurts to speak from the damage she's done from her throat.

When they get back to Lando's apartment he rushes y/n to the bedroom as a means of isolating the sickness while Pietra and Max actually decide to clean the apartment, which is really just to help disinfect and reduce the chances of also falling ill.

They've also decided to get on a flight out of there because Pietra has decided that if she was sick having guests over is the last thing she'd want.

"Water. Cold towel. I'll change the sheets later when you've rested a little." Lando mumbles to himself then sighing as he picks up the medication and begins mumbling about what she needs to take and when before setting alarms and reminders on his phone.

"You're going to get sick." Y/n mumbles which only earns and eye roll as he continues muttering to himself about her medication, not even giving her comment a moment of thought as he continues. "Lando."

"I'm taking care of you and if I get sick, then so be it." Lando sighs shaking his head before he smiles. "I can't believe you're so sick. Three separate illnesses. Three, baby."

"I know."

"No more talking from you until your tonsils at least clear up. I'm going to go check on Max and P, but I'll be right back. You sleep."

-

Max and P left but with Lando not having a race this weekend, he was able to stay with y/n and no have any interruption.

"Are you sure you just want noodles?" Lando asks as he hands her another bowl of the cheap instant noodles she's basically lived on for the past 2 days since she finally started keeping food down again.

"It's a low risk comfort food." Y/n pouts earning a nod as Lando plops down next to her with a sigh and pulls her to sit between his legs as he leans against the sofa armrest and sits side on.

"But you're feeling a bit better?" Lando questions immediately watching her smile and nod as she spins the fork and gathers enough noodles for a mouthful.

"Much much better." Y/n confirms then sighing as she leans back against him. "Not 100% but so much better. I genuinely felt like the doctor might tell me I was going to die."

"Please tell me next time baby. Even if I can't do anything, I can at least check on you and I can try to send someone to make sure you're alright." Lando mumbles hating the thought of his girlfriend not being well and just suffering on her own.

"I know. I promise I'll tell you next time. I promise." Y/n sighs as he kisses her neck gently. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I just want to know so I can fuss over you and smother you with love while you're ill." Lando smiles snaking his arms around her waist. I like being your nurse."

"I'm sure you do." Y/n laughs lightly before taking another mouthful of noodles. "I'd offer you some but I still have germs."

"Yeah, and you don't really want to share with me. I know you."

[chilling-seavey]

soo, i have an idea for twig universe. so george's wife and one (or two) of the kids get sick (like a nasty flu or something) so theyre being separated to not get worse. george needs to take care of them (all the sicks and healthy one), but he cant do it all alone so he asks lando and alex to help him taking care of the kids

I've loved this idea since you sent it, anon! Sorry it took me ages to get to, but I knew I wanted to write out a full blurb for it and wanted the time to do it justice. Well, I was under the weather myself this week so consider me inspired x

Comments are always welcomed and encouraged! They keep me motivated to keep posting! <3

It hit your house the same week George came home from the final F1 season of his career; a nasty flu, the kind school-age kids always seemed to pick up when autumn blurred into winter. Eight-year-old Charlotte caught it first, likely bringing it home from school, and by Monday night—barely twelve hours after George returned—she was throwing up relentlessly. You knew he was exhausted, still carrying the weight of his last race, so you let him sleep while you stayed up through the night, tending to your sick daughter.

You were surprised how quickly it hit you next because by only mid-day the next day, you were finding yourself knelt in front of the toilet. It would be all too easy for the rest of the household to crumble with these germs and so you and George made the quick decision to immediately separate the healthy few from the sick. Charlotte’s mattress and sheets were brought into the primary bedroom so the two of you could rest in your contamination together while the healthy three (George, Lawrence, and Beatrice) would stay far away from the germ-zone. 

Well, perhaps except George who was still determined to take care of you and Charlotte the best he could. He had found one of his old face masks from when COVID-19 changed F1 for a year, still branded in his old ‘63’ logo and Williams Racing blue, and wore that every time he entered your room to replenish water or diluted ginger ale or bring fresh linens or soothing ice packs. His little nurse get-up was only accentuated by the old baby monitor he had clipped onto his belt loop, the receiving end positioned on your bedside table so, even downstairs, he could keep an ear out if one of you needed him. 

On Wednesday, it had been twenty-four hours since you had first gotten sick (almost forty-eight for Charlotte) and it felt like there was no end in sight. George was surprisingly energetic, bouncing between playing nurse and entertaining the other two kids at the same time, having just returned from picking them up from school. Perhaps this was enough of a distraction to keep his mind away from the reality that his F1 career had come to an end. 

He was positioned at the stove in the kitchen, stirring a simmering pot of homemade chicken noodle soup, glancing between it and the other two kids who were playing in the adjacent living room. Eleven-year-old Lawrence was slouched on the couch, focused on the handheld video game in his grasp, eyebrows narrowed and tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration. On the floor was four-year-old Beatrice who was intently focused on her toy ponies and whatever storyline for them was playing through her mind. 

It was a moment of calm that he wasn’t taking for granted, although he wished you and Charlotte were well enough to be downstairs too. It was always hard to see the ones you loved most unwell. 

George switched off the stove and pulled a few bowls from the cupboard to begin to serve, calling out to the living room, “You two hungry? Do you want some soup?”

Instead of a proper answer from either of them, he was met with little Beatrice’s pouted, “Daddy, my tummy hurts.”

George glanced over to her as he filled the last bowl, his attention immediately piqued, “Hungry hurt? Or sick hurt?”

The four-year-old only shrugged and clutched her arms to her stomach. 

He couldn’t get another question out before her little body was lurching and she was vomiting all over herself, her ponies, and the living room rug. 

Lawrence gasped, “Ew! Beatrice!”

George had dropped the ladle into the pot of soup and rushed over right away as his youngest burst into tears, saying quickly and only half panicked, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it was an accident.”

Her little arms raised instinctively to her father as he approached and he tried not to think too much about it as he picked her up from the rug—vomit stained clothing and all—and she snuggled into him with a sob. He stroked the back of her hair to try and soothe her, while also trying not to breathe too much in fear of catching whatever bug was currently taking down his family one by one. 

He glanced to startled Lawrence still on the couch, “There’s a bowl of soup for you in the kitchen. Take it to the dining room to eat. Don’t want you in here with this mess, alright?”

Lawrence nodded and didn’t need to be told twice. He clamoured over the couch and over the arm to avoid the mess on the floor and beelined it to the kitchen while George carried crying Beatrice upstairs. 

“I know, honeybee, I know…you feel yucky, don’t you?” he cooed to her calmly, taking her right into the bathroom. He set her on her feet and ran a bath before starting to strip her out of her soiled clothes. She stood there, naked and shivering with sickness and he kept her curled against his chest while his other hand kept testing the temperature of the water, and he spoke to her softly, “If you’re going to be sick again, be sick in the toilet if you can, okay? Not on the floor.”

Oh, God, this wasn’t good. 

He bathed her quickly to get the vomit off her and to help her feel a bit more fresh before drying her off and carrying her to her room to get into clean pyjamas. Beatrice sniffled the whole time, weak and sickly, letting him dress her and gladly accepting her favourite stuffed animal when he offered it. Then, he carried her to your room at the end of the hall. He held his breath when he stepped inside, bringing over sniffly Beatrice to your bedside. 

“What’s going on?” you asked sleepily, your usual vibrant disposition dulled to grey with your sickness. 

“Another one down for the count…she threw up in the living room,” George explained simply, carefully setting Beatrice on the bed with you, “She’s bathed and dressed…I’ll get her mattress.”

“It’s okay, she can just sleep with me,” you assured him as your littlest curled into you right away as if naturally seeking out the comfort of her mother. 

“If you’re sure.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Now get out of here before it gets you next.”

George pet his hand over your clammy forehead tenderly (all he could do instead of giving you the kiss he wanted to give you) and then he slipped out of the room again. He took a breath and went back into the bathroom to gather up Beatrice’s soiled clothes and her bedsheets to throw them both in the laundry right away before washing his hands and reaching for his phone. It was still barely 4:30pm and he was already exhausted and it seemed he now had more work ahead of him. One thing he knew for sure was that he couldn’t subject Lawrence to all this…not if he could help it. And so he made a call. 

Back downstairs, George found Lawrence all alone in the dining room, finishing off his bowl of soup. When he stepped in the room, he greeted his son with a tired, “Hey, mate. So, Lando’s going to come get you and you’re going to stay with him for the night, alright? I want to keep you healthy if we can.”

Almost as if his father was pulling his leg, Lawrence frowned, “A sleepover? But it’s a school night.”

“He’ll take you in tomorrow so pack your uniform, yeah?"

Lawrence broke into a grin, “Okay.”

Honestly, what kid questioned a mid-week sleepover? Only Lawrence. 

George threw some paper towels onto the living room rug in the meantime and then washed his hands again before joining Lawrence upstairs to make sure he packed all he needed to. He was the sole person in charge of the whole family for the present moment and it felt like he was being pulled in all directions. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Lando pulled up in the most obnoxious McLaren he owned in his collection and got out to help take the kid’s bag.

“Uncle Lando!” Lawrence beamed and hopped down the front steps to greet him with a very grown-up fist bump.

Lando seemed just as thrilled to see him, “Hey, mate! Boys night tonight! You excited?”

“Yes! And your cars are always cooler than daddy’s so I’m even more excited!”

“Well, don’t tell him that,” Lando snorted and took his small suitcase as Lawrence ran off to help himself into the passenger seat. 

George joined Lando on the driveway, for a moment of an adult to adult conversation with enough of a distance between him just in case he was contaminated with germs, “Thanks again for taking him, mate.”

“Yeah, of course. We’ll play some padel, maybe order a pizza…”

“Not late to bed though, please. He’ll be panicked if he’s late to school.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lando tutted playfully, “I have a kid of my own, remember? I know how this parenting thing works.”

George put his hands up in defense, “I know, I know. Force of habit.”

“It’ll be good.”

“Call me if he’s feeling poorly, alright? I’ve kept him away from all the germs so he should be fine but…”

“I got it, George…my God, mate,” Lando huffed lightheartedly and was already carrying Lawrence’s suitcase to the car, tossing over his shoulder, “And change your clothes, you’ve got sick on your shirt.”

Once Lawrence was safely away from the house of germs, George returned inside. He spent the rest of the evening cleaning up Beatrice’s ponies and scrubbing the rub the best he could in rubber gloves that reached halfway up his forearm. He reheated the soup and brought the bowls upstairs to his girls on a tray, protected by his face mask and a prayer. 

His night in the guest room wasn’t restful, constantly woken up by rustling through the baby monitor and getting up to check on the three of you. You had wanted to try and take care of the poorly little ones on your own but that flu was hitting you just as strongly and rendering you almost incapacitated. Thank God you had George for backup. 

Well, thank God until two days later when the three of you had recovered and it was George who was laying ill in bed. Flu season didn’t hold off for anyone. 

(Oh, and if you were wondering, eleven-year-old Lawrence completely creamed Lando at padel.)

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[monux-m00nl19ht]

down with a cold

summary: Charles being worried and taking care of a sick Carlos

pairing: Charlos

[see end for notes.]

-

“Charles! Charles mate!” Lando came over, trying to gain Charles attention.

“Hey, ‘sup man, good job out there,” Charles greeted back.

“Well, thanks man, but I have something to tell you,” Lando cried suddenly switching to a more serious tone.

‘What could it possibly be, seems pretty serious,’ Charles thought

“It’s about Carlos,” Lando stated.

‘It is a serious matter indeed’

“I’m all ears, everything ok?” Charles questioned,

“Not really, man, I was talking to him after the race and he seem, well odd, it’s just looked like he was ill or something,” Lando informed Charles, “We can’t really stay for long after the prac run, but I just wanted to tell you, so you know, you can check on him,”

“Absolutely, thanks for telling me, Lando, I owe you one,”

“No prob, I now the guy, he never tells anyone when something’s wrong but yeah, please check up on him, and let me know too yeah?” Lando slightly pats Charles on the shoulder.

“Of course, I’ll let you know,” then Lando departs, as Charles sprinted towards the paddock.

“Where’s Carlos?” Charles asked as he barged in the monitor room

“Carlos? I saw him in the cooldown area a while ago, but wh-” before the man could finish Charles had ran towards the cooldown room.

“There you are,” Charles huffed out of breath.

“Hey, Charles, why are you he-” before he knew it a hand was placed on his forehead taken him by surprise, but the sensation felt really nice as Carlos unknowingly leaned in towards Charles' touch.

“Damn it, you’re burning up!” Charles panicked, as a look of worried became more apparent in his eyes.

“Ah, it’s fine mate, probably just because of the race. Man is it hot today, haha..” Carlos replied trying to lighten the mood, however by the deepening look of worry on Charles face tells him he had failed.

When suddenly Charles grabbed his hand almost dragging him back to their drivers room. Making a left turn they arrived at Carlos’s cabin.

“Wait, Charles- what are you doing?” Carlos huffed confused as of to why he’s back at his room, they’ve got another practice lap coming up, to be honest he wasn’t feeling too well, but that was the reason why he wanted to rest in the cooldown area. So why in the world is he here?

“Charles stop man, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? You’re sick Carlos!” Charles exclaimed.

Carlos wore a look of confusion.

“Lando told me alright? He saw there were something’s wrong, and it’s true, you’re literally burning up right now.”

“No, I’m fine, just tired,” Carlos tried to bargain.

“Carlos let’s not do this right now,” Charles begged.

“No, but what about the practice drive, it’s in like,” he looked up at the clock, “10 minutes, sure I can take a break but we need to be back at bay soon, Charles mate,”

“Carlos, you’re sitting this one out, ok? Not in this condition”

“Charles-”

“Carlos it’s not up for negotiation,”

“What? but I’m not even sick what?” Carlos is so confused, sure he feels tired but sick? No way.

“You’re literally so warm mate,” Charles cried, “You know what, let’s check your temp, we need to see how bad the fever is anyways. Stay here.” Charles scowled.

'He's so scary sometimes’ Carlos thought

Even though Carlos knew he could easily sneak out, but the look on Charles face told him how much trouble he’d be in if he did.

Finally he’s back.

“Open up Carlos,”

“I’m not a kid,” Carlos pouted.

“Sure, you aren’t” Charles replied, full of sarcasm.

With the thermometer in his mouth they waited until the familiar beep.

“Let’s see.. mate, it’s 38.0 degrees,”

“Oh..” there’s really aren’t no way out of this now, “but the drive, I can still do the last run, it’s barely anything-”

“Carlos, no way you’re leaving this room, let alone drive in your condition,” Charles answered with a stern look on his face.

Carlos just knew there were no arguing against Charles when it comes to this.

“Fine, but you better go,” Carlos stated.

“Promise you’ll behave?”

“Yes, yes, I promised, I’ll stay here and watch you through this small screen, happy?” Carlos cried pointed toward the small tv mounted on the wall.

“Sounds good, I’ll check on you in a bit. Rest.. please,”

And soon Charles exited the room, still worried about leaving Carlos alone in there, but since Carlos promised to behave, he’ll take his words for it.

-

[hi guys :) thank you so much for reading my very first work, I hope you enjoyed it. This is a kickstart of more to come, I've actually got some ideas in mind of future projects, however I'll make sure to make a more formal notice. Anyhow, I hope enjoyed it, and please don't hesitate to reach out, I'm more than happy to chat about any of my works. see you all soon] ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ .｡✧･ﾟ:* ~♡