Chapter Text
Sunday, May 23, 2021. It was race day in Monaco, beautiful Monaco. With the sky a clear blue, the sun beaming down on the streets, gentle fluffy clouds decorating the sky, and an exciting race earlier that morning, everything seemed to be perfect for those who enjoy the F1 world. Yet inside Ferrari Hospitality, despite the many drivers who call this principality their home, the one born and raised through these streets sat slumped in a chair.
While the sun had not yet begun to set, most of the media, staff, and fans—who had been part of the very few allowed to come compared to before the pandemic—had already left the paddock. The only sound echoing through the track was the soft, excited whispers of the staff getting everything ready to pack up, the seagulls in the sky, and the quiet exhales of a sleeping Charles Leclerc.
The clock across from him read 4 pm, nearly 8 hours after the race had finished, and yet he was still here. A problem with his car caused him to end quali early and miss the race entirely. While Max took the championship lead, he was stuck in the Ferrari Motorhome wallowing in disappointment, some for himself and some for the car. Once the race ended, the pictures were taken, and all media duties were complete, Charles quickly changed out of the branded polos and into more comfortable clothing. He had only sat down to make himself comfy while waiting for Lando and Carlos so they could mess around doing slightly illegal post-race shenanigans. For example, Carlos was already taking Lando, a McLaren driver, into Ferrari Hospitality. While he had done it before, he wouldn’t be able to keep doing it.
Waiting for the pair in comfortable clothes, relative silence, and mental fatigue regarding the disappointment of not being able to race, pulled the Monegasque into a dreamless sleep. Well, maybe not completely dreamless. Around 20 minutes had passed after Charles had fallen asleep on the couch when he heard a loud thump. Many loud thumps.
*BANG, CLANK, THUD.*
Okay, very loud thumps. It was like having loud furniture falling consecutively onto the floor for 5 seconds. Startled, Charles stirred in his sleep, but he didn’t open his eyes. Maybe he was dreaming. Then the talking started.
“What the fuck?”
“What did you do?”
“Fuck you mean, ‘What did I do?’”
“Where the hell are we?”
“The Ferrari Motorhome?”
“Ferrari Hospitality does not look like this.”
“Forgive me for assuming when all I see is red and that giant ass shield and horse.”
“You’re all so loud.”
“You okay, mate?”
“I’m fine. What the fuck just happened?”
“Will all of you be quiet? Look.”
Charles, who was still half asleep, groaned at the noise. Sleepily and with an irritated look on his face, he cracked an eye open, and he froze. Eyes wide, he stared at the nine figures—that had caused all the noise—all staring back at him. Nine figures that should not be here. “What the fuck?” He jumped back and off his chair, causing it to topple over and hit the floor in the process. Adrenaline coursed through the driver's body as not really panic nor fear, but complete confusion washed over him. “What the fuck.” He said again with a louder voice.
“Who are you?” One of the men in the back spoke, quickly making his way to the front and putting himself between Charles and the others behind him. From his looks, he was the oldest of the group, the self-designated ‘protector.’ Standing tall and steeling his voice, he spoke again. “Who are you, and what have you done to us?” The man spoke English, but it was obvious it wasn’t his first language as the german accent was audible on his tongue.
Am I dreaming? Charles's thoughts were in complete chaos. The figure standing in front of him, the voice speaking towards him, they belonged to someone from nearly a decade ago. And it should be impossible for him to be here today. Because he was the greatest Formula 1 driver of all time.
The one with the most Championship titles in the history of the sport
The one who had dragged a floundering Ferrari back to the top
The one and only, Michael Schumacherwho should be a vegetable
Looking around the room, Charles realized just who was in front of him. Judging from his looks, Michael must be around the age of his pre-accident. So it must be logical that the others are from that time as well, right? Shocked and frozen in place, Charles recognized the much younger forms of some of the current drivers and of overs who had already left the sport. Of Sebastian, Lewis, Kimi, Alonso, Daniel, Jenson, Mark, and Nico.
“I won’t ask again,” Michael called. His voice may have been calm, but his eyes hid flashes of underlying panic and confusion. “What do you want with us?”
Charles couldn’t answer him. “I don’t understand…” He spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “This should not be possible.”
“What should not be possible?” Sebastian, the now young, daring, and reckless driver he was, stepped forward to Michael’s side. The older German put his arm up to keep him from getting too close to the stranger they just appeared to. Realization hit Charles' face as he thought about how this must look to the other drivers, just appearing, or falling, into a new place with the only other person, someone they never knew, asleep on a couch.
“I’m not going to hurt you-” Charles stepped back and put his arms up, trying not to worry the other drivers. The sound of steps interrupted Charles as someone opened the door and began walking up the stairs.
“Charles.” It was Carlos. “We heard a lot of loud noise coming from up here. Are you o-” The Spanish driver made his way up the stairs before promptly freezing in place, his eyes landing on a frozen Charles and nine drivers from a time nearly a decade ago.
“Carlos.” Charles breathed. The next words he spoke very slowly. “Tell me my eyes are lying to me.”
It took Carlos a minute, but he replied softly. “I see them too.”
Louder steps coming up the stairs echoed through the room. “Carlos!” A certain British driver yelled out. “What bloody hell is taking you guys so long? And why are you just standing at the top of the-” Then Lando saw them and screamed. “WHAT THE FUCK!!” Instantly, Lando dove behind Carlos, peering at the group of nine from what he deemed to be a safe place. A place that moved even closer to the drivers as Carlos placed himself in front of Charles. He may be the more energetic one, but he was the eldest, and he would be damned if Charles did things like this on his own.
“I’m guessing you might know what’s going on?” Michael questioned the Spaniard. Before Carlos could answer, Mark walked to the front. “Now, hold on just a minute.” He said, stepping between the two groups with both arms stretched wide. “We can all agree that no one’s going to hurt anyone here, so there’s no need for continuous aggression.” Mark’s words seemed to relax both parties enough. The Aussie driver turned to Carlos and held his hand out. “My name is Mark. What’s yours?”
Taking his hand, Carlos answered. “My name is Carlos.” Charles and Lando followed after him and also introduced themselves. However, neither of them gave their surnames. Now wasn’t the right time.
“Now I’m guessing from the Ferrari and M… McLaren polo shirts… you guys know who the people behind me are?” Smooth. Now while the Ferrari polo has some obvious differences, the current McLaren polo looks nothing as it did during their time, so Mark did his best to cover his mistake. Whatever situation they thought they were in, the nine drivers had to play it cool. After all, they didn’t know if they were in danger or not. “Are you guys fans… or… something else?”
“What year do you all think it is?” Charles spoke up from behind Carlos. An idea had popped into his head, an impossible idea, but hell, he might as well try it.
The nine drivers looked amongst each other for a quick minute before Jenson spoke up. “It’s 2012.” The color drained from Charles, Carlos, and Lando’s faces. And yet Charles kept speaking.
“What is the last thing you remember?”
Tentatively, Jenson answered again. “We have a couple of hours left before free practice for the Monaco GP… Why?”
“You are in Monaco…” Charles said softly as he pointed out the windows of the Ferrari Motorhome; windows that no one had realized were there. Not that they bothered to look.
The reaction was instant as all nine drivers looked straight out the window. Those among the nine who lived in Monaco had their jaws dropped in shock, but not at the sight of the Monaco Skyline, but of signs of the Monaco Grand Prix. Nico had started walking towards the window with Lewis following him before both Charles and Carlos pulled them back.
“What the heck?” Lewis looked miffed.
“You can’t be seen in here” Charles was quick to respond.
“Why not?”
“This is the Ferrari Motorhome.” While not a lie, it also wasn’t the entire truth. The entire truth was that, besides the fact that it would be strange to see him inside Ferrari Hospitality, Lewis was ten years younger. Not to mention, people might have seen him standing next to Nico Rosberg.
Lewis raised an eyebrow and looked over at Fernando, who, looking around at the supposed Ferrari Hospitality, shook his head. But I suppose it’s not his fault that things changed over the years. Lewis turned back to Charles and frowned. “You’re lying.”
“He’s not lying…” Carlos stepped in. “This is Ferrari Hospitality and the Monaco Grand Prix finished about 8 hours ago.”
“Now you’re really lying.” It was Nico’s turn to talk. “I was one of the first drivers to get here, since I live here and all, and I know for a fact that I would never miss this grand prix, much less anyone else here.”
“You’d never miss the 2012 Monaco Grand Prix,” Charles stated.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“This isn’t your Monaco Grand Prix. It’s the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix.” No one looked like they believed him, but he kept on speaking. “I don’t know how, but all of you are nearly a decade in the future.”
Silence was the only thing heard in the room until Daniel broke it. “Yeah… sorry mate, but that’s really hard to believe.”
An idea lit off in Charles’ head. Grabbing Carlos’ arm, he pulled the both of them down the stairs. “Keep them here, Lando, and make sure no one sees them. We’ll be back.”
Lando’s jaw dropped and he instantly started protesting. “WHY ME?!” He shrieked. “Why not Carlos?! Hey, don’t leave me here with them!!”
“You’ll be fine, Cabrón,” Carlos yelled up the staircase as both drivers disappeared into the paddock. Lando stared at his two friends leaving, backs turned. “Don’t blame me if you come back and find me dead!!” He screamed into the window before slumping down. Then he remembered he was not alone. Turning around, he gave a nervous smile. “Hey guys…”
Lewis rolled his eyes as Jenson scoffed at the younger Brit. “Now, why would they come back to your dead body?” He teased as he pulled the younger McLaren driver to his feet. Lando, who was bright red and loved his dramatics, only cried. Not real tears tho, cause who would want to cry in front of members of the 2012 grid?
“Just stay away from the window, please,” Lando mumbled before collapsing onto one of the longer couches. “And if you hear any footsteps that aren’t those two, please jump into their driver rooms.”
Jenson smirked and sat down next to the collapsed McLaren driver. “Okay, Lando. I’ll play along, but humor me. If we’re really 9 years into the future, what’s been happening lately?”
Lando just whined into the pillow as the other drivers in the room found comfortable places to chill. Michael and Seb both opened the doors to Carlos and Charles's driver rooms as Lando’s comment made them want to be able to hop in at a moment's notice. Lewis and Nico sat down beside each other on a couch away from the windows. Mark, Kimi, and Fernando sat closer to Jenson, quietly laughing at the theatrics of the young driver. Daniel was the only one left to himself. At one time, he wandered a bit too close to the windows for comfort before Sebastian pulled him back. Lando, who has been tuning out Jenson’s commentary this entire time, had been watching everything unfold. You better fucking hurry and fucking get back.
While Lando was ‘dying’ in a room full of champions and rising stars, Charles and Carlos were frantically running down the paddock. Carlos, who still had no idea what was going on, chased Charles down. “What are you doing? And why did we leave Lando there?”
“Lando’s there to keep an eye on them and to make sure no one sees them.”
“You really think Lando can do all that with those people in the room?”
…
“See…”
“Fine, let’s just get this done quickly.”
“What exactly are you trying to do?”
“Prove to them that they are in the future.” Of into the distance, Charles’ eyes landed on one of the people he needed to find. “Let’s make this quick.” He says, renewed in spirit and sprinting even faster toward a certain Mercedes driver walking to the car park.
Debrief was finally over. It had been a long 8 hours after the race. With the next GP being two weeks away, all Lewis wanted to do was go home and rest. He had just lost the championship lead to Max, and he wanted to do everything he could to get that lead back. He needed to be in his best form, and that best form needed rest. Walking towards the car park, he was just about to unlock his car when he heard footsteps running towards him.
“Lewis, wait!” Turning around, the Mercedes driver was greeted by the Ferrari duo running towards him. He was just about to tease the two of them for whatever stupid shit they were about to do until he saw the looks on their faces. “Hey guys?” The two drivers stopped in front of him and started gasping for air. “Something wrong?”
“Well…” Charles took a deep breath. “Not really, but we do have what could be a major problem, and we need your help.”
“That is the definition of ‘is there something wrong’.” Lewis frowned, wondering what the younger drivers could have gotten themselves into. “What can I do?”
“Have you seen Seb or Kimi or Fernando? We also need all of them?”
Now he was very worried. What could have gone so wrong that they needed all of the senior drivers of the grid? “Fernando already left for Spain. He wanted to spend the weekend at home or something.” Lewis explained while pulling out his phone. “I don’t know where Kimi or Seb are, but I can call them.”
“Okay, okay…” Charles breathed. “I supposed the three of you guys should be enough.”
Lewis gave Charles a quick look before calling Sebastian’s number. It only took two rings for the German to pick up. “Hello Lewis?” While the two of them were close friends, Lewis was never the type to call during race weekends. So Sebastian was already concerned. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Seb. Are you still at the track?”
“I am. I’m with Kimi. We’re about to meet up with the rest of the drivers living in Switzerland. We were all going out to dinner.”
“When are all of you guys leaving?” Charles pulled Lewis’ arm down to speak into the phone. Lewis stared at Charles but didn’t stop him.
Sebastian hesitated for only a second. “Oh hey, Charles. I didn’t know you were here too.” Seb paused for a bit before answering. “We were all going to spend the night in Monaco, but we’re leaving for Switzerland in the early morning.”
“Sorry for interrupting your dinner, but we really need you and Kimi. There’s this problem that we’ve found. We’re at the car park.”
“Please get here as fast as you can,” Carlos spoke up. “I don’t know how long Lando can keep them in one place.”
Lando? Lando’s part of this, too? Lewis’s thoughts were racing. And who’s Lando keeping in one place? Seems as if Seb was also thinking the same thing. “Okay,” His voice was hesitant, but Lewis had known him long enough to hear the slight worry in his voice. “I’ll bring Kimi over. We’ll be there soon.” With that, the phone call ended.
“Ok,” Lewis spoke to the duo. “Now I’m properly worried. What’s going on? Is Lando okay? Who did you leave him with?”
“Lando’s fine.” The Spaniard answered him. “Everyone is fine, but the reason we need you, Sebastian, and Kimi is part of why he’s not here right now.”
“I hope you know how not reassuring that it is. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s hard to explain.” Charles cut it. “I also don’t want to speak of it out here.” He motioned to the very public setting they were in. “But we can show you along with Seb and Kimi.” Lewis was about the argue, but several messages sent from a clearly worried Sebastian stopped him.
Do you know what’s going on?
Why do Charles and Carlos need the three of us?
Is Lando okay?”
I have no Idea.
I was just about to get into my car to leave, but then they ran up to me.
Please just get here fast. They won’t tell me anything without you two here.
We won’t be long.
Kimi doesn’t like this but he’s also worried enough to comply.
The three drivers were waiting beside Lewis's car for nearly 8 minutes before Kimi and Seb showed up. “Finally.” Charles breathed. Sebastian was about what was wrong before Charles and Carlos started sprinting back up to the paddock, dragging Lewis, Kimi, and himself with them. Confused but still worried, the three senior drivers allowed themselves to be led through the paddock.
Lewis could only hope the three drivers in trouble had a good reason. He noticed the looks several staff from different teams had started giving. And they had good reason. Why were two Ferarri drivers and a Mercedes, Aston, and Alpha driver sprinting their way down the paddock? Why were they leading them to the Ferrari Motorhome? And why were they pushing them inside?
“Now, hold on just a minute.” Sebastian managed to get the Ferrari duo to stop pushing him through the doors. While the race was over, it’s not like the paddock was a ghost town. There were still people here. And some were watching a very curious scene unfold. “We’re allowed to be here, right?”
Neither Charles nor Carlos answered and just pulled the three warry Senior drivers through the door. Lewis just hoped they wouldn’t get fined. He couldn’t get fined. Not when the record-breaking 8th title was right in front of him.
“Sorry,” Charles said softly. “But we really need to show you to them.”
“What?” Lewis was lost but still followed the duo through the Ferrari Motorhome. It was a good thing it was mostly empty. They walked into an area that was mostly for drivers before his eyes landed on a set of stairs.
“Lando!” Carlos called.
“Still alive!” Lando yelled back.
Lewis walked up the stairs first, with Kimi and Sebastian following closely behind him. Once he took that last step, the Mercedes driver froze, as did the two beside him. This is impossible . Lewis took in the scene that greeted him. His eyes landed on one person standing in the middle of the room. Despite what little is known about his accident and the recovery afterward, seeing Michael in the center of this room was impossible. And he looked exactly like he did during hislast year alive last year on the grid. But surely, maybe he had gotten better, and his family just didn’t mention it. But then, how was Sebastian standing next to Michael when Sebastian was right next to him?
Lando was lying on a couch with Jenson sitting beside him. Jenson. A much younger Jenson. But Jenson was still young, right? Surely, while his being inside Ferrari Hospitality was strange, surely everything was all right, right? The Mark and Fernando next to him were also normal. I mean, Mark was also young, but he wasn’t that old and Fernando had been a Ferrari driver.
Fernando had left for Spain an hour ago. And even if the youth in Mark and Jenson could be credited to some kind of lighting or makeup, the youth in Daniel Ricciardo’s eyes could not be excused. And Kimi was sitting next to them. But Kimi was also standing next to him.
And if that wasn’t enough, behind everyone and sitting against a wall, he saw hisbest friend greatest rival. Stuck to his side like glue was his younger self. Both of them were staring at him. Seeing the two of them together, this close, hurt. His mind was reeling. This, what he saw before him, was impossible. It is impossible. It should be impossible.
“What. The. Fuck.” Beside him, even the stoic Iceman was shocked into speech.