Time Stands Still. (1/2)
Title: Time Stands Still.
Pairing: Fernando Alonso/Mark Webber
Rating: NC-17
Length: 13167w
Summary: The final race of the 2013 season is here, with Mark Webber retiring from the pinnacle of motorsport. The emotions unfold through him as he realises exactly what he's giving up, and more importantly, who he's saying goodbye to. Fernando's always been there during his career and now that Mark's hanging up his boots, he breaks his own heart along the way as he decides that Fernando would be better off without him now that they can no longer see each other frequently. However, after Mark's final race with Red Bull, he has one last opportunity to celebrate with the man that he truly adores before he has to deliver the heartbreaking news that they can no longer be together.
Warning: NSFW artwork beneath the cut.
It was here; the final race and the final chapter of his Formula One career. Sitting alone in his room, Mark was surprised as the emotions engulfed him; happiness tinged with sadness and the inevitable goodbyes that he would have to say. His heart plummeted at the thought of goodbye; they were always permanent to him. No going back, only moving forwards. Placing his head firmly in his hands, Mark refused to get emotional, not yet anyway. He had one last race; one final chance to add another win to his tally before he hung up his Formula 1 boots forever.
Bringing his head up, the Australian was temporarily blinded by the light reflecting against the mirror. Psyching himself up, Mark gingerly began to clamber into his Red Bull race suit, paying attention to every single detail. He would miss many things, including the car and team personnel, but he wouldn't miss the racing aspect of Formula 1 anymore, although he'd miss the friends and the memories that he had picked up along the way the most; his race debut with Minardi, winning his first race in Germany in 2009, becoming close friends with Fernando and Jenson. He'd miss them two the most, not bothering to think about anyone else.
His phone buzzed violently against the gleaming white desk, capturing his attention instantaneously. Gripping the phone tightly in his palm, Fernando's name lit up against the backdrop of his 2010 Red Bull Racing car; the last feasible chance he had of winning the world championship. Swiping in his password quickly, Mark's eyes lingered on the text, wondering if he could get away with a simple lie.
'You ready for the last race?'
'I've been ready all year, mate.'
Mark pressed send, glad yet relieved that the Ferrari man wasn't in the room right now, knowing that he'd see straight through Mark's obvious lies. Sighing, his mind was plagued with different ideas; he thought it was the right time, yet, now his body was filled with fear and dread. Something Mark hardly experienced unless there was a major accident during a race. Skulking around the room, the Australian shook himself, attempting to get his head into gear before glancing into the mirror. Perhaps this is how every racing driver felt before they left this enigmatic and exciting world. The phone buzzed once again; a new text from Fernando.
'I know you're lying.'
Mark groaned loudly, flinging his phone on the bed, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught that would occur as soon as he left his room. Once a driver was retiring, the media wanted to have one final interview and that was physically exhausting; Mark preferred to just get out on track and prove his talent there, rather than be in front of a camera being constantly interviewed by everyone demanding to know the same questions; how he was feeling, what he would change, what he'd miss.
Knocking the door softly, Barbara stuck her head around the door, smiling at the Australian as he indicated for her to come in. Closing the door gently, a small tear trickled down her cheek, strolling towards Mark with her arms extended out wide, engulfing him into a hug. Peeling back, Mark's eyes glanced into her shimmering blue eyes, wiping away the tears from her cheek, dropping a chaste kiss to her temple.
"No tears today!" Mark jokingly warned her, a warm smile firm on his face. "We made a deal. We're not allowed to cry Babz."
"Okay, okay." She sighed in defeat, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry... I just can't believe it's the end."
"All good things must come to an end buddy." Mark whispered. "Come on, we need to face the world."
Barbara nodded in agreement, pulling away from the Australian's embrace, slinking out of the door, giving Mark a final few moments to take in the atmosphere of his room in the energy station. It wasn't anything lavish, just a standard single bed, a wardrobe and small drawers, matched up with deep blue walls that were often engulfed by the blinding light that seeped through the window during the different race weekends. It may not have held any significance for anyone else, but it had been his temporary home at Red Bull for the last six years.
Staring into the mirror, Mark ensured that he looked perfect before leaning over the desk, grasping his hat in his hand as he left his room to a surrounding crowd cheering and applauding him, yelling in delight as a banner proudly hung down from the energy station. Mark stood there in shock, absorbing the atmosphere, smiling at everyone and thanking them for their kindness, even if he found it somewhat unnecessary. He would still be sponsored by Red Bull and he'd appear at the occasional race, but it was time to quit whilst he still had the opportunity to. It was always easier to walk away when you could, rather than be thrown to the side-lines with no one interested in giving you a seat.
The cold air swirled around the drivers viciously as they all clutched their team gear tight to themselves, determined to stop some warmth escaping as each of them all waved to their fans surrounding the Interlagos circuit, noticing the different flags and banners that were on the grandstands and wrapped around the thousands of fans that had turned up for the final race of the season. A few of the drivers had already been interviewed during the track parade by Natalie Pinkham, with everyone thanking the fans for their continued support and that they were excited to get back home and have a small break before stepping up for the upcoming brand new season. Mark and Fernando had managed to huddle together, warm smiles etched on their faces as Natalie approached them, the microphone prepped in her hand as she glanced at them both, seeking permission before intruding their personal space and potentially hearing something that she shouldn't. Both nodded at her and she stepped toward them, with Fernando gesturing the microphone in Mark's direction instantly.
"Is his last race. He should go first."
"So then, Mark, here we are at Interlagos... it's your last race with us. How are you feeling now that you're finally here?"
Mark scratched his throat nervously, thinking of the right answer before glancing into Natalie's eyes, knowing that he couldn't lie, not anymore.
"I'm overwhelmed." Mark sighed. "It's been such a long season, but it's definitely the right time for me to retire. I've had an amazing experience racing these guys and some that are no longer with us, but it feels like it's the right time to leave and pursue something new whilst I still can."
"I hope we'll see you at some of the races..." Natalie smiled.
"You may, but it all depends on my schedule with Porsche and what we need to do. Although, I'm sure I can appear at a few races and see some old friends." Mark chuckled, nudging Fernando's shoulders. "Someone needs to make sure that this man finally gets a title winning car with Ferrari too."
"Speaking about Fernando, it must be a difficult day for you too," Natalie pondered out loud. "Not only are you losing one of your best friends on the grid, but your team mate is also leaving the team after a staggering eight seasons with the team. Just how much are you going to miss their company?"
"Well..." Fernando smiled. "With Felipe is different, I can still see him as he is only a few garages down. Mark is different because he will no longer be here every weekend to try and fight for victories with me." He smiled. "It will be weird to not see him behind me on track, but I am sure that Daniel will do a good job in his seat."
"He better!" Mark interjected. "He's the future of Australia now, and I hope that he can do something that I was never able to do and win the title while he's still young and can take on Seb."
Their eyes lingered towards the soon to be Red Bull driver with a massive grin on his face, giving Mark a thumbs up and nodded to him in respect as Natalie's attention was once again brought back to them both.
"It's nice to see that you've received such a wonderful send off from all of your friends here down the paddock, along with the numerous teams up and down the grid, Mark. That must mean something special to you, surely?"
"Of course." Mark smiled warmly, continuing to wave at the fans. "Everyone up and down the paddock has been amazing to me over the years, whether that be the highs of my career or the lows; everyone has a part to play in that paddock. But we've also got to appreciate the fans too, without them, we wouldn't have the sport that we currently do; it's their support along with my family and friends that means the world to me. So, this final race is for you guys! Enjoy it and let's finish this season on a high. Thank you all so much, it's been incredible!" Mark's grin expanded as the crowd erupted into delight at the Australian's words, cheering louder and louder as the drivers arrived back in the pitlane, everyone rushing down the stairs immediately.
"That was a nice touch, Mark; it'll be a shame to see you leave." Natalie sighed. "It's been a pleasure having the chance to know you."
"It needed to be done Nat, before I go insane. Too many things have gone on now and I need a fresh challenge in my life. Keep these guys under check for me." Mark retorted softly, grasping onto the handrails.
Their brief conversation ended there. Mark bounded down the stairs, attempting to rush into the garage for the last time before the race started, yet, was stopped by Fernando who stood in front of him, his hands resting on his hips. Mark's eyes grew with concern and bewilderment - no one could know about their relationship due to the circumstances that would ensue.
"What are you playing at?" Mark gritted out, attempting to remain calm, forcing Fernando's hands off his hips.
"Sorry." Fernando shrugged, wrapping his arms around Mark instead, not wanting to release him from his grip.
"You have to be careful, Nando."
Fernando ignored Mark's words and ghosted his lips over his ear.
"One last race, one last chance for us to both be on the podium. I hope I'll see you there; I believe in you. Have a good race, I love you."
Mark's hands wrapped around the Spaniard immediately, warmth radiating through him at Fernando's encouraging words.
"I will do my damned best to be up there with you. We need to celebrate one last podium together." Mark whispered back, releasing Fernando from his clutches.
They nodded at one another as they departed each other's company, heading back to their retrospective garage before anyone could speculate on what could have been mentioned. As they arrived back at their garages, both drivers were asked straight away what information the other disclosed, with both of them stating that they were just wishing one another well and that they wanted to have one final hug before they would go to the grid as they both understood just how busy that would be. It was just easier to do it prior to the race preparations starting.
He watched them strolling through the grid, the herd of media all attempting to get near to Mark, demanding interviews with the driver who would soon be retired and claimed as one of the greats to never win the title. He refused to leave the garage yet, deciding on staying with the team for a bit longer as he glanced at his car; the overwhelming emotions hitting him like a tonne of bricks - he'd never drive a Formula One car again after today. This chapter of his life would be over and even though the decision was right for him, the unsettling nerves in his stomach never waned, if anything, they increased dramatically; this was the last chance to fight for a race win and to prove exactly why he deserved all of those seasons in the pinnacle of motorsport.
Pacing around the rear of the garage, Mark grasped his helmet and placed his balaclava over his head softly before his features were disguised by the helmet for the final time this season; only his hazel orbs on display. He gingerly walked towards his car, stepping in via the right hand side of the monocoque, getting comfy as he was strapped in by his crew, patting him on the shoulder and tapping his helmet; some smiling at him, some struggling to keep their emotions in check as they all know just how much they will miss the Australian's presence in the team. Mark clutched the steering wheel firmly, absorbing every detail that he could, memorising every aspect of this part of his life, cherishing every highlight and memory that he had secured with this magnificent team that had managed to dominant and astound some of the more famous teams around the paddock.
Goosebumps prickled across his arms as the engine roared to life behind him; never growing tired of hearing the scream from inside the car. The car purred beneath him, being signalled to leave the pit by a member of the team. A few tears streaked down his cheeks as he slammed his visor down, hiding the emotions well as he focused on the curves that Interlagos always managed to offer.
"We need a few more installation laps, Mark." Simon's warm and calm voice rang through his earphones.
"Okay, mate. Is there an issue with the car?" Mark inquired.
"Nope, we just want to be awkward and make you drive around the circuit a few more times."
"You're all bastards, you know that, right?"
"We prefer loving, Mark." Simon's dulcet tones echoed in his ears. "You'd think something was wrong if we weren't demanding."
"If I break down on the last lap because you've stressed my car too much..." Mark mumbled. "I will actually kill you all."
"We won't break it... we just want it to have the goodbye it deserves, so bloody win today."
"You know that I'll be boxing every step of the way!" Mark smiled, determined to appear on the podium.
The radio crackled to a slow silence, leaving Mark alone once again to focus on nailing every part of the track, remembering where to overtake and just how to execute the perfect manoeuvre. This circuit was one of the best; always an exciting race and up there with the likes of Spa-Francorchamps for its crazy weather conditions that managed to produce the craziest of races. Eventually, Mark was finally settled into his grid slot; starting second in his final race was no mean feat, but with Sebastian ahead of him once again, it would be difficult to get the race win. Cutting the engine, Mark tentatively stepped out of the car and leant against one of the metal barriers, the media beginning to crowd around the Red Bull driver as they all aimed to get their final interview with the Australian. Mark groaned inwardly, hating the attention that they were all lavishing on him; he just wanted to focus on the job at hand and end his career on a high. The copious amounts of media was beginning to annoy him more, feeling like they hardly cared when he was rising through the ranks, even if he was one of the only drivers to have the balls to tell everyone exactly how he felt, yet, sometimes, he felt like he was under-appreciated by the media in so many ways that he would never dare explain.
He allowed a few media outlets to interview him; notably the BBC and Sky F1 teams as they had always treated Mark as one of their own when he had decided to create his life in Britain and embrace the British motorsport culture; the only other place he had felt so much warmth and love for his area was Queanbeyan, which still held a special place in his heart to this day.
Martin Brundle stepped forward, the microphone in his hand, ready to quiz Mark for the last time. Martin was presented with an umbrella, just in case the rain decided to come down against the asphalt and all everyone on the grid, leaving a small smile on Mark's face as he patiently waited for the British pundit and ex-driver to begin his interrogation.
"So Mark, it's looking like it could be a wet race out there for your final Grand Prix out here in Interlagos..."
"Yeah," Mark shrugged his shoulders. "I don't mind a wet race; our car has shown excellent control in both wet and dry conditions, so we should be on the podium comfortably today."
"We heard a comical radio exchange between you and your engineer Simon Rennie a few minutes ago; it sounds like they'll all miss you at Red Bull."
"I think they already do!" Mark chuckled. "They already had me doing stupid tasks like driving more laps around the circuit than anyone else, so if the car breaks down today, they're going to be dealing with the angriest Australian they've ever seen."
"What do you think your chances are for this race? You've already said that you're comfortable in both conditions, but with your teammate ahead of you, it'll be a difficult job to win your final Formula One race..." Martin smiled, thrusting the microphone back toward Mark.
"It'll always be difficult fighting Seb for the win, but it's exactly the same feeling as if I would be fighting Fernando or Jenson; they're all rivals at the end of the day. I'm here to win, not to come second fiddle to anyone." Mark chided. "I'd rather leave here today knowing that I deserved my podium through fair and exciting racing, rather than be gifted the win due to an engine or mechanical failure - the win would feel different if there was an issue involved." Mark stated honestly, glancing at the sister Red Bull car.
"Well Mark, good luck for the race. It's been a pleasure." Martin smiled, shaking his hand.
Mark reciprocated the action as the media coverage surrounding him began to increase before he physically had to decline anymore media invitations, needing to go through important information with Simon as the clouds continued to darken engulf the circuit in darkness. The media continued to swarm around them both, until Barbara stood by them both, politely stating that Mark needed those last few precious minutes to go over data from qualifying and where to catch Sebastian during the race.
Mark nodded in agreement, noting exactly where to attempt to overtake and what lap would be best, with their strategy already being decided after qualifying the previous day and Mark was determined to attempt to get that win; that was what they were all here for and the Australian could only focus on one thing now; beating his teammate to get the win that he had been craving since Malaysia; the one race which decided it all. Even if he had decided to stay in Formula One for the next season, he knew deep down that he would've severed the ties with Red Bull; the win that was taken away from him still too painful to comprehend.
"I'm ready." Mark glanced at Simon.
"Okay mate. Well, good luck." Simon pulled Mark into a meaningful and brief hug, tapping his back. "Go and bring the trophy home."
Mark nodded at his race engineer as he disappeared, allowing the Australian the perfect opportunity to focus on the objective at hand. His hazel eyes glanced up into the grey clouds, relinquishing the challenge ahead of him as he placed his helmet on and clambered into his car, grasping the steering wheel tightly as everyone ensured that he was comfortable for the last time in his Formula One career; he hated it, but he knew the attention would be on him today and that only increased the pressure already placed on him.
Breathing in deeply, he drank in the surroundings; the pit crews scrambling away from the grid as the cars roared to life; the sound of 22 cars deafening to the fans in the grandstand as the drivers left their grid boxes, all following one another around the circuit as Sebastian slowly ended the formation lap, lining up in his grid box, slowly and patiently waiting for the others to line up behind him. Mark slotted into his grid box immediately, his eyes narrowing on his teammate to his left, watching his every manoeuvre, determined to beat him and steal the win from him fairly.
The lights flashed red rapidly as Mark bogged down the start, being swamped by numerous cars and languishing in fifth. He groaned inside his helmet, cussing a few times as his concentration was temporarily caught off guard, instantly rueing the mistake as he began chasing down Hamilton instantly, the bit between his teeth as he noticed that the sister car of Sebastian's was still ahead of him. Mark followed Lewis' car during the first sector of the track, catching him immediately, patiently waiting for the Mercedes driver to make just one mistake. Noticing that Lewis had gone wide, Mark sensed the opportunity and stayed on the outside, giving the British driver just enough room, overtaking him on the outside, noticing the white rear wing ahead of him; Fernando's car.
Catching the Ferrari rapidly, Mark found himself temporarily stuck behind him, suffering from the dirty air that was flowing from the rear of the car. This was always going to be difficult to overtake Fernando; he knew Mark so well that he knew every trick in his book, relinquishing him powerless, yet, their trust on track was unparalleled; Mark would never fight against someone so ruthlessly as what he did with Fernando - he always had to push the Spaniard to the limit on every occasion that they fought on track. Approaching the last corner, they found themselves engulfed in white smoke billowing from Romain's car as Mark found himself focusing on the Ferrari, not wanting to make a stupid error and ruin both of their races. The cars were making their way through the first sector when Fernando made a manoeuvre on Rosberg, causing Mark another headache yet pride swelled within him, praying that his boyfriend could go and chase Sebastian down and help Mark without realising.
Mark dispatched of Nico's car easily, overtaking him on the start finish straight into turn one, attempting to catch the Spaniard again, wondering if Fernando would be willing to put up a huge fight in their last race fighting one another. He quickly caught the Ferrari as Fernando somehow pushed it to its limits once again, knowing that the car was nowhere near as good as the Red Bull that was stuck behind him. Their battle continued for a few laps, Mark attempting to overtake wherever he could and look somewhat threatening in the Spaniard's mirrors. Their track antics continued as they approached the thirteenth lap before Mark had finally got past, silently thanking Fernando for the gift as his aim was back on for the race win; steal the win from his teammate.
Mark continued to push hard, refusing to give up and nailed every lap, slowly reeling in the gap to Sebastian as the pit stop window approached.
"Pit this lap, pit this lap." Simon's voice echoed over the radio.
"Okay." Mark replied, pressing the radio button off quickly, nailing every piece of the circuit as he came into the pits.
He brought the car in perfectly, waiting and praying that the pit crew's efforts would go without a flaw, only to be hampered by an issue with a tyre. Mark's anger hit the roof; so annoyed that everything had messed up when he needed the pit stop to go smoothly. Leaving the pits, he grasped the steering wheel even tighter than normal, attempting to calm himself down.
"Sorry about that." Simon sighed. "You deserved better."
"The one time I needed a pit stop to be fucking perfect." Mark hissed.
The radio went silent as Simon didn't respond, allowing Mark to calm down and gather himself as he noticed the Ferrari in front of him again. The Australian couldn't help but groan inside his crash helmet, not wanting another gift from Fernando when it was the team's error for Mark being stuck behind the Italian car again. Shaking the negativity, he followed the dirty air of the Ferrari for a small while before pulling off another manoeuvre into turn one, hoping this would be the last time he would have to overtake the Spaniard for an error that he didn't commit.
Mark kept his cool, putting in the laps, slowly catching Sebastian as yellow flags were dropped around the circuit again. Mark was curious what had happened, waiting for information until he drove past the scene; Bottas' Williams with three wheels on the wagon.
"Yellow flags are out, be careful on the way around, Hamilton has a rear right puncture and is slow. Pit this lap."
"Pitting this lap."
Mark passed Lewis quickly; glad to see that he had stayed away from the racing line. Entering the pits, Mark noticed Sebastian's car still in the pit box, realisation dawning upon him that the German had a problem of some sort during the pit stop. He didn't dare celebrate yet, not when there was still plenty of laps to be done and always a chance to overtake one another on the track. As he watched the sister car shoot away from the pit box, he noticed Fernando in his mirrors, narrowly missing the pit crew. Not reacting to the action, Mark just patiently waited for his tyre change as he finally left the pit box, noticing the scarlet red machinery behind him closing in.
"What was Sebastian's problem?" Mark inquired.
"Problem with the front right tyre, we can still win this race."
Mark didn't bother replying, choosing to focus on the remainder of the race as he darted out of the pitlane quickly, pulling away immediately from the Ferrari. Not many laps were left and Mark sighed, checking the delta on his steering wheel told him everything he needed to know; the 10 second deficit was too much, he wouldn't win his final Formula One race and even though that upset him deep down, he was thankful that he could finish his career on a high and step down from the pinnacle of motorsport with another podium to his name. Crossing the line, relief flooded his system; he had brought the car home with no mechanical or engine failures.
During the slow down lap, Mark navigated his way through the first and second sector, picking up all of the debris possible before slowing down on purpose, messing with his HANS device, taking his helmet and balaclava off, hearing the scream of the engine in his ears and clearly seeing the fans waving eagerly at him; giving him the send-off they believed that he genuinely deserved. The emotions overwhelmed him as he watched them all, waving back at them all as he drove slowly, feeling the wind mess his hair up violently. The radio buzzed to life once again, sending shivers down Mark's spine.
"Nice job mate, absolutely brilliant. I know we made it pretty difficult, but it was a very good drive from you. Good race craft, good pace, nice job mate. Mixture one please, mixture one and use all the KERS if possible." Simon smiled as he gave the information to Mark.
"Fantastic career, it's been brilliant working with you. You can be proud of everything you've done, cause we certainly are. Well done." Christian added, the emotions of pride ebbing through him.
Mark pulled the car into the pitlane, happiness and elation radiating from his body, pushing the negative thoughts to the back of his mind as he was enveloped in a hug by Fernando.
"I'm so proud of you," he whispered soothingly. "I'm sorry is not the win."
"I got a podium, that'll do." Mark replied. "Thank you for the gift, too."
Fernando released Mark from his grasp and nodded, heading towards the scrutineering room, glancing over his shoulder briefly to see Mark hugging everyone from the team that he feasibly could before dashing towards scrutineering and checking his weight. He didn't stay long, choosing to make his way to the cool down room as quickly as what he could, the claps from the grid girls echoing around him, giving him a sense of achievement as he briefly recalled his success; 9 wins, 42 podiums, 13 pole positions and 19 fastest laps altogether. As he entered the room, he noted Sebastian celebrating his ninth win of the season with Christian and they celebrated together briefly, Mark not caring about what the German had to say to him and instead, turned his focus to Fernando, who grasped his hand tightly and congratulated him on the podium, shaking his hand as a small smile was painted on Mark's face. They talked briefly, mostly about the race, aiming to keep their private lives a secret for a while longer.
The drivers were all told to go to the podium and reap the rewards of their success. Fernando rushed out straight away, waving at the crowd and team, happiness ebbing through him as he patiently waited for Mark and Sebastian to appear before they could celebrate together before a private one could take place later in the day with Mark. Emerging moments later, Mark ran out on the podium, waving to everyone and soaking up the atmosphere, enjoying every second of it as he stood proudly in second place, the happiness rushing through him as he realised it was all over; he would no longer be a Formula One driver. Sebastian's name was called out as he headed towards the top step, the German and Austrian anthem bellowing loudly from the podium as the team celebrated more success and yet another one-two during the races.
The beautiful trophies were presented to everyone with the loudest cheer being given to Mark for his commitment to motorsport and to Red Bull in general; they may have had their highs and lows, but they still stuck together as a team until the end, even if it didn't feel like it in some circumstances. They all clutched their champagne tightly as they began their celebrations, Sebastian soaking Mark quickly before chasing after Christian, whilst Mark set after Fernando, soaking the Spaniard in champagne before falling on the slippery surface covered in alcohol, appearing seconds later smiling and laughing like an idiot at his own mistake. Sebastian and Fernando arrived, covering the Australian in champagne, dousing it over his face as Mark drank some and shook his head, attempting to get rid of the champagne that was beginning to sting his eyes, before Sebastian and Fernando drank some of theirs and passed it down to their retrospective teams, waiting for the interviews to take place by a Brazilian TV presenter. Christian appeared quick, an Australian flag in his hands as he passed it to Mark, holding it with pride as he wrapped the flag around his neck.
The podium celebrations flew by, with Mark stating how proud he was of his career, how thankful he was to everyone who had supported him in the early days which led him to have the chance to be a Formula One driver and prove just how talented he truly was. It was evident in the way that he talked that Mark truly appreciated every second of the time spent as a driver and the friends and rivals that he had made along the way; they had made his career worthwhile. The Championship may never have been his, but he still etched his name into the Grand Prix books and right now, that was enough for him. Walking away from the podium, Mark waved at the crowd for the final time as he slowly headed down the stairs and into the press pen, waiting to be interviewed.
Natalie Pinkham had a warm smile on her face as she waved at Mark, flipping through her small notebook filled with notes, eager to jump into the interview that she had been waiting for since the end of the race. Mark smiled at her, happy to have ended his career on a high and to finally feel liberated and not be hampered by such extreme weight limits anymore.
"Well Mark, it was only a second place, but it's clearly made you very happy. Congratulations on your final podium. What's been your career highlight?"
"I've had lots; my debut race in Australia and being allowed to go up on the podium with the flag. Germany 2009 too because that was my first win, but this feels special too. It's not a race win, but it's how I wanted my Formula One career to end."
"We've seen a lot of support for you this weekend, notably from all of the fans in the grandstand and from other drivers on the grid too. Whose support has meant the most to you?" Natalie inquired.
"Well," Mark debated. "The fans have been absolutely amazing, but I can safely say that the team's support has meant the world, and the people who have been there since the start and saw the potential in me; without their support, I wouldn't be here right now. Driver wise, I'd have to say Fernando and Jenson. I mean, they're my best friends here and both of them are incredible drivers who I rate highly. It'll be weird not seeing my mates on such a regular basis but I'm already excited for a new challenge with Porsche." Mark smiled.
"Thank you for the entertaining memories, Mark. Good luck for the future and hopefully we'll see you at a Grand Prix next year."
"Thanks Natalie, and to all of the fans out there who have supported me; thank you. This podium was for you!" Mark smiled. "Now it's time to celebrate with the team and enjoy my final hours as a Formula One driver."
* * *
(one | two)
Pairing: Fernando Alonso/Mark Webber
Rating: NC-17
Length: 13167w
Summary: The final race of the 2013 season is here, with Mark Webber retiring from the pinnacle of motorsport. The emotions unfold through him as he realises exactly what he's giving up, and more importantly, who he's saying goodbye to. Fernando's always been there during his career and now that Mark's hanging up his boots, he breaks his own heart along the way as he decides that Fernando would be better off without him now that they can no longer see each other frequently. However, after Mark's final race with Red Bull, he has one last opportunity to celebrate with the man that he truly adores before he has to deliver the heartbreaking news that they can no longer be together.
Warning: NSFW artwork beneath the cut.
It was here; the final race and the final chapter of his Formula One career. Sitting alone in his room, Mark was surprised as the emotions engulfed him; happiness tinged with sadness and the inevitable goodbyes that he would have to say. His heart plummeted at the thought of goodbye; they were always permanent to him. No going back, only moving forwards. Placing his head firmly in his hands, Mark refused to get emotional, not yet anyway. He had one last race; one final chance to add another win to his tally before he hung up his Formula 1 boots forever.
Bringing his head up, the Australian was temporarily blinded by the light reflecting against the mirror. Psyching himself up, Mark gingerly began to clamber into his Red Bull race suit, paying attention to every single detail. He would miss many things, including the car and team personnel, but he wouldn't miss the racing aspect of Formula 1 anymore, although he'd miss the friends and the memories that he had picked up along the way the most; his race debut with Minardi, winning his first race in Germany in 2009, becoming close friends with Fernando and Jenson. He'd miss them two the most, not bothering to think about anyone else.
His phone buzzed violently against the gleaming white desk, capturing his attention instantaneously. Gripping the phone tightly in his palm, Fernando's name lit up against the backdrop of his 2010 Red Bull Racing car; the last feasible chance he had of winning the world championship. Swiping in his password quickly, Mark's eyes lingered on the text, wondering if he could get away with a simple lie.
'You ready for the last race?'
'I've been ready all year, mate.'
Mark pressed send, glad yet relieved that the Ferrari man wasn't in the room right now, knowing that he'd see straight through Mark's obvious lies. Sighing, his mind was plagued with different ideas; he thought it was the right time, yet, now his body was filled with fear and dread. Something Mark hardly experienced unless there was a major accident during a race. Skulking around the room, the Australian shook himself, attempting to get his head into gear before glancing into the mirror. Perhaps this is how every racing driver felt before they left this enigmatic and exciting world. The phone buzzed once again; a new text from Fernando.
'I know you're lying.'
Mark groaned loudly, flinging his phone on the bed, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught that would occur as soon as he left his room. Once a driver was retiring, the media wanted to have one final interview and that was physically exhausting; Mark preferred to just get out on track and prove his talent there, rather than be in front of a camera being constantly interviewed by everyone demanding to know the same questions; how he was feeling, what he would change, what he'd miss.
Knocking the door softly, Barbara stuck her head around the door, smiling at the Australian as he indicated for her to come in. Closing the door gently, a small tear trickled down her cheek, strolling towards Mark with her arms extended out wide, engulfing him into a hug. Peeling back, Mark's eyes glanced into her shimmering blue eyes, wiping away the tears from her cheek, dropping a chaste kiss to her temple.
"No tears today!" Mark jokingly warned her, a warm smile firm on his face. "We made a deal. We're not allowed to cry Babz."
"Okay, okay." She sighed in defeat, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry... I just can't believe it's the end."
"All good things must come to an end buddy." Mark whispered. "Come on, we need to face the world."
Barbara nodded in agreement, pulling away from the Australian's embrace, slinking out of the door, giving Mark a final few moments to take in the atmosphere of his room in the energy station. It wasn't anything lavish, just a standard single bed, a wardrobe and small drawers, matched up with deep blue walls that were often engulfed by the blinding light that seeped through the window during the different race weekends. It may not have held any significance for anyone else, but it had been his temporary home at Red Bull for the last six years.
Staring into the mirror, Mark ensured that he looked perfect before leaning over the desk, grasping his hat in his hand as he left his room to a surrounding crowd cheering and applauding him, yelling in delight as a banner proudly hung down from the energy station. Mark stood there in shock, absorbing the atmosphere, smiling at everyone and thanking them for their kindness, even if he found it somewhat unnecessary. He would still be sponsored by Red Bull and he'd appear at the occasional race, but it was time to quit whilst he still had the opportunity to. It was always easier to walk away when you could, rather than be thrown to the side-lines with no one interested in giving you a seat.
The cold air swirled around the drivers viciously as they all clutched their team gear tight to themselves, determined to stop some warmth escaping as each of them all waved to their fans surrounding the Interlagos circuit, noticing the different flags and banners that were on the grandstands and wrapped around the thousands of fans that had turned up for the final race of the season. A few of the drivers had already been interviewed during the track parade by Natalie Pinkham, with everyone thanking the fans for their continued support and that they were excited to get back home and have a small break before stepping up for the upcoming brand new season. Mark and Fernando had managed to huddle together, warm smiles etched on their faces as Natalie approached them, the microphone prepped in her hand as she glanced at them both, seeking permission before intruding their personal space and potentially hearing something that she shouldn't. Both nodded at her and she stepped toward them, with Fernando gesturing the microphone in Mark's direction instantly.
"Is his last race. He should go first."
"So then, Mark, here we are at Interlagos... it's your last race with us. How are you feeling now that you're finally here?"
Mark scratched his throat nervously, thinking of the right answer before glancing into Natalie's eyes, knowing that he couldn't lie, not anymore.
"I'm overwhelmed." Mark sighed. "It's been such a long season, but it's definitely the right time for me to retire. I've had an amazing experience racing these guys and some that are no longer with us, but it feels like it's the right time to leave and pursue something new whilst I still can."
"I hope we'll see you at some of the races..." Natalie smiled.
"You may, but it all depends on my schedule with Porsche and what we need to do. Although, I'm sure I can appear at a few races and see some old friends." Mark chuckled, nudging Fernando's shoulders. "Someone needs to make sure that this man finally gets a title winning car with Ferrari too."
"Speaking about Fernando, it must be a difficult day for you too," Natalie pondered out loud. "Not only are you losing one of your best friends on the grid, but your team mate is also leaving the team after a staggering eight seasons with the team. Just how much are you going to miss their company?"
"Well..." Fernando smiled. "With Felipe is different, I can still see him as he is only a few garages down. Mark is different because he will no longer be here every weekend to try and fight for victories with me." He smiled. "It will be weird to not see him behind me on track, but I am sure that Daniel will do a good job in his seat."
"He better!" Mark interjected. "He's the future of Australia now, and I hope that he can do something that I was never able to do and win the title while he's still young and can take on Seb."
Their eyes lingered towards the soon to be Red Bull driver with a massive grin on his face, giving Mark a thumbs up and nodded to him in respect as Natalie's attention was once again brought back to them both.
"It's nice to see that you've received such a wonderful send off from all of your friends here down the paddock, along with the numerous teams up and down the grid, Mark. That must mean something special to you, surely?"
"Of course." Mark smiled warmly, continuing to wave at the fans. "Everyone up and down the paddock has been amazing to me over the years, whether that be the highs of my career or the lows; everyone has a part to play in that paddock. But we've also got to appreciate the fans too, without them, we wouldn't have the sport that we currently do; it's their support along with my family and friends that means the world to me. So, this final race is for you guys! Enjoy it and let's finish this season on a high. Thank you all so much, it's been incredible!" Mark's grin expanded as the crowd erupted into delight at the Australian's words, cheering louder and louder as the drivers arrived back in the pitlane, everyone rushing down the stairs immediately.
"That was a nice touch, Mark; it'll be a shame to see you leave." Natalie sighed. "It's been a pleasure having the chance to know you."
"It needed to be done Nat, before I go insane. Too many things have gone on now and I need a fresh challenge in my life. Keep these guys under check for me." Mark retorted softly, grasping onto the handrails.
Their brief conversation ended there. Mark bounded down the stairs, attempting to rush into the garage for the last time before the race started, yet, was stopped by Fernando who stood in front of him, his hands resting on his hips. Mark's eyes grew with concern and bewilderment - no one could know about their relationship due to the circumstances that would ensue.
"What are you playing at?" Mark gritted out, attempting to remain calm, forcing Fernando's hands off his hips.
"Sorry." Fernando shrugged, wrapping his arms around Mark instead, not wanting to release him from his grip.
"You have to be careful, Nando."
Fernando ignored Mark's words and ghosted his lips over his ear.
"One last race, one last chance for us to both be on the podium. I hope I'll see you there; I believe in you. Have a good race, I love you."
Mark's hands wrapped around the Spaniard immediately, warmth radiating through him at Fernando's encouraging words.
"I will do my damned best to be up there with you. We need to celebrate one last podium together." Mark whispered back, releasing Fernando from his clutches.
They nodded at one another as they departed each other's company, heading back to their retrospective garage before anyone could speculate on what could have been mentioned. As they arrived back at their garages, both drivers were asked straight away what information the other disclosed, with both of them stating that they were just wishing one another well and that they wanted to have one final hug before they would go to the grid as they both understood just how busy that would be. It was just easier to do it prior to the race preparations starting.
He watched them strolling through the grid, the herd of media all attempting to get near to Mark, demanding interviews with the driver who would soon be retired and claimed as one of the greats to never win the title. He refused to leave the garage yet, deciding on staying with the team for a bit longer as he glanced at his car; the overwhelming emotions hitting him like a tonne of bricks - he'd never drive a Formula One car again after today. This chapter of his life would be over and even though the decision was right for him, the unsettling nerves in his stomach never waned, if anything, they increased dramatically; this was the last chance to fight for a race win and to prove exactly why he deserved all of those seasons in the pinnacle of motorsport.
Pacing around the rear of the garage, Mark grasped his helmet and placed his balaclava over his head softly before his features were disguised by the helmet for the final time this season; only his hazel orbs on display. He gingerly walked towards his car, stepping in via the right hand side of the monocoque, getting comfy as he was strapped in by his crew, patting him on the shoulder and tapping his helmet; some smiling at him, some struggling to keep their emotions in check as they all know just how much they will miss the Australian's presence in the team. Mark clutched the steering wheel firmly, absorbing every detail that he could, memorising every aspect of this part of his life, cherishing every highlight and memory that he had secured with this magnificent team that had managed to dominant and astound some of the more famous teams around the paddock.
Goosebumps prickled across his arms as the engine roared to life behind him; never growing tired of hearing the scream from inside the car. The car purred beneath him, being signalled to leave the pit by a member of the team. A few tears streaked down his cheeks as he slammed his visor down, hiding the emotions well as he focused on the curves that Interlagos always managed to offer.
"We need a few more installation laps, Mark." Simon's warm and calm voice rang through his earphones.
"Okay, mate. Is there an issue with the car?" Mark inquired.
"Nope, we just want to be awkward and make you drive around the circuit a few more times."
"You're all bastards, you know that, right?"
"We prefer loving, Mark." Simon's dulcet tones echoed in his ears. "You'd think something was wrong if we weren't demanding."
"If I break down on the last lap because you've stressed my car too much..." Mark mumbled. "I will actually kill you all."
"We won't break it... we just want it to have the goodbye it deserves, so bloody win today."
"You know that I'll be boxing every step of the way!" Mark smiled, determined to appear on the podium.
The radio crackled to a slow silence, leaving Mark alone once again to focus on nailing every part of the track, remembering where to overtake and just how to execute the perfect manoeuvre. This circuit was one of the best; always an exciting race and up there with the likes of Spa-Francorchamps for its crazy weather conditions that managed to produce the craziest of races. Eventually, Mark was finally settled into his grid slot; starting second in his final race was no mean feat, but with Sebastian ahead of him once again, it would be difficult to get the race win. Cutting the engine, Mark tentatively stepped out of the car and leant against one of the metal barriers, the media beginning to crowd around the Red Bull driver as they all aimed to get their final interview with the Australian. Mark groaned inwardly, hating the attention that they were all lavishing on him; he just wanted to focus on the job at hand and end his career on a high. The copious amounts of media was beginning to annoy him more, feeling like they hardly cared when he was rising through the ranks, even if he was one of the only drivers to have the balls to tell everyone exactly how he felt, yet, sometimes, he felt like he was under-appreciated by the media in so many ways that he would never dare explain.
He allowed a few media outlets to interview him; notably the BBC and Sky F1 teams as they had always treated Mark as one of their own when he had decided to create his life in Britain and embrace the British motorsport culture; the only other place he had felt so much warmth and love for his area was Queanbeyan, which still held a special place in his heart to this day.
Martin Brundle stepped forward, the microphone in his hand, ready to quiz Mark for the last time. Martin was presented with an umbrella, just in case the rain decided to come down against the asphalt and all everyone on the grid, leaving a small smile on Mark's face as he patiently waited for the British pundit and ex-driver to begin his interrogation.
"So Mark, it's looking like it could be a wet race out there for your final Grand Prix out here in Interlagos..."
"Yeah," Mark shrugged his shoulders. "I don't mind a wet race; our car has shown excellent control in both wet and dry conditions, so we should be on the podium comfortably today."
"We heard a comical radio exchange between you and your engineer Simon Rennie a few minutes ago; it sounds like they'll all miss you at Red Bull."
"I think they already do!" Mark chuckled. "They already had me doing stupid tasks like driving more laps around the circuit than anyone else, so if the car breaks down today, they're going to be dealing with the angriest Australian they've ever seen."
"What do you think your chances are for this race? You've already said that you're comfortable in both conditions, but with your teammate ahead of you, it'll be a difficult job to win your final Formula One race..." Martin smiled, thrusting the microphone back toward Mark.
"It'll always be difficult fighting Seb for the win, but it's exactly the same feeling as if I would be fighting Fernando or Jenson; they're all rivals at the end of the day. I'm here to win, not to come second fiddle to anyone." Mark chided. "I'd rather leave here today knowing that I deserved my podium through fair and exciting racing, rather than be gifted the win due to an engine or mechanical failure - the win would feel different if there was an issue involved." Mark stated honestly, glancing at the sister Red Bull car.
"Well Mark, good luck for the race. It's been a pleasure." Martin smiled, shaking his hand.
Mark reciprocated the action as the media coverage surrounding him began to increase before he physically had to decline anymore media invitations, needing to go through important information with Simon as the clouds continued to darken engulf the circuit in darkness. The media continued to swarm around them both, until Barbara stood by them both, politely stating that Mark needed those last few precious minutes to go over data from qualifying and where to catch Sebastian during the race.
Mark nodded in agreement, noting exactly where to attempt to overtake and what lap would be best, with their strategy already being decided after qualifying the previous day and Mark was determined to attempt to get that win; that was what they were all here for and the Australian could only focus on one thing now; beating his teammate to get the win that he had been craving since Malaysia; the one race which decided it all. Even if he had decided to stay in Formula One for the next season, he knew deep down that he would've severed the ties with Red Bull; the win that was taken away from him still too painful to comprehend.
"I'm ready." Mark glanced at Simon.
"Okay mate. Well, good luck." Simon pulled Mark into a meaningful and brief hug, tapping his back. "Go and bring the trophy home."
Mark nodded at his race engineer as he disappeared, allowing the Australian the perfect opportunity to focus on the objective at hand. His hazel eyes glanced up into the grey clouds, relinquishing the challenge ahead of him as he placed his helmet on and clambered into his car, grasping the steering wheel tightly as everyone ensured that he was comfortable for the last time in his Formula One career; he hated it, but he knew the attention would be on him today and that only increased the pressure already placed on him.
Breathing in deeply, he drank in the surroundings; the pit crews scrambling away from the grid as the cars roared to life; the sound of 22 cars deafening to the fans in the grandstand as the drivers left their grid boxes, all following one another around the circuit as Sebastian slowly ended the formation lap, lining up in his grid box, slowly and patiently waiting for the others to line up behind him. Mark slotted into his grid box immediately, his eyes narrowing on his teammate to his left, watching his every manoeuvre, determined to beat him and steal the win from him fairly.
The lights flashed red rapidly as Mark bogged down the start, being swamped by numerous cars and languishing in fifth. He groaned inside his helmet, cussing a few times as his concentration was temporarily caught off guard, instantly rueing the mistake as he began chasing down Hamilton instantly, the bit between his teeth as he noticed that the sister car of Sebastian's was still ahead of him. Mark followed Lewis' car during the first sector of the track, catching him immediately, patiently waiting for the Mercedes driver to make just one mistake. Noticing that Lewis had gone wide, Mark sensed the opportunity and stayed on the outside, giving the British driver just enough room, overtaking him on the outside, noticing the white rear wing ahead of him; Fernando's car.
Catching the Ferrari rapidly, Mark found himself temporarily stuck behind him, suffering from the dirty air that was flowing from the rear of the car. This was always going to be difficult to overtake Fernando; he knew Mark so well that he knew every trick in his book, relinquishing him powerless, yet, their trust on track was unparalleled; Mark would never fight against someone so ruthlessly as what he did with Fernando - he always had to push the Spaniard to the limit on every occasion that they fought on track. Approaching the last corner, they found themselves engulfed in white smoke billowing from Romain's car as Mark found himself focusing on the Ferrari, not wanting to make a stupid error and ruin both of their races. The cars were making their way through the first sector when Fernando made a manoeuvre on Rosberg, causing Mark another headache yet pride swelled within him, praying that his boyfriend could go and chase Sebastian down and help Mark without realising.
Mark dispatched of Nico's car easily, overtaking him on the start finish straight into turn one, attempting to catch the Spaniard again, wondering if Fernando would be willing to put up a huge fight in their last race fighting one another. He quickly caught the Ferrari as Fernando somehow pushed it to its limits once again, knowing that the car was nowhere near as good as the Red Bull that was stuck behind him. Their battle continued for a few laps, Mark attempting to overtake wherever he could and look somewhat threatening in the Spaniard's mirrors. Their track antics continued as they approached the thirteenth lap before Mark had finally got past, silently thanking Fernando for the gift as his aim was back on for the race win; steal the win from his teammate.
Mark continued to push hard, refusing to give up and nailed every lap, slowly reeling in the gap to Sebastian as the pit stop window approached.
"Pit this lap, pit this lap." Simon's voice echoed over the radio.
"Okay." Mark replied, pressing the radio button off quickly, nailing every piece of the circuit as he came into the pits.
He brought the car in perfectly, waiting and praying that the pit crew's efforts would go without a flaw, only to be hampered by an issue with a tyre. Mark's anger hit the roof; so annoyed that everything had messed up when he needed the pit stop to go smoothly. Leaving the pits, he grasped the steering wheel even tighter than normal, attempting to calm himself down.
"Sorry about that." Simon sighed. "You deserved better."
"The one time I needed a pit stop to be fucking perfect." Mark hissed.
The radio went silent as Simon didn't respond, allowing Mark to calm down and gather himself as he noticed the Ferrari in front of him again. The Australian couldn't help but groan inside his crash helmet, not wanting another gift from Fernando when it was the team's error for Mark being stuck behind the Italian car again. Shaking the negativity, he followed the dirty air of the Ferrari for a small while before pulling off another manoeuvre into turn one, hoping this would be the last time he would have to overtake the Spaniard for an error that he didn't commit.
Mark kept his cool, putting in the laps, slowly catching Sebastian as yellow flags were dropped around the circuit again. Mark was curious what had happened, waiting for information until he drove past the scene; Bottas' Williams with three wheels on the wagon.
"Yellow flags are out, be careful on the way around, Hamilton has a rear right puncture and is slow. Pit this lap."
"Pitting this lap."
Mark passed Lewis quickly; glad to see that he had stayed away from the racing line. Entering the pits, Mark noticed Sebastian's car still in the pit box, realisation dawning upon him that the German had a problem of some sort during the pit stop. He didn't dare celebrate yet, not when there was still plenty of laps to be done and always a chance to overtake one another on the track. As he watched the sister car shoot away from the pit box, he noticed Fernando in his mirrors, narrowly missing the pit crew. Not reacting to the action, Mark just patiently waited for his tyre change as he finally left the pit box, noticing the scarlet red machinery behind him closing in.
"What was Sebastian's problem?" Mark inquired.
"Problem with the front right tyre, we can still win this race."
Mark didn't bother replying, choosing to focus on the remainder of the race as he darted out of the pitlane quickly, pulling away immediately from the Ferrari. Not many laps were left and Mark sighed, checking the delta on his steering wheel told him everything he needed to know; the 10 second deficit was too much, he wouldn't win his final Formula One race and even though that upset him deep down, he was thankful that he could finish his career on a high and step down from the pinnacle of motorsport with another podium to his name. Crossing the line, relief flooded his system; he had brought the car home with no mechanical or engine failures.
During the slow down lap, Mark navigated his way through the first and second sector, picking up all of the debris possible before slowing down on purpose, messing with his HANS device, taking his helmet and balaclava off, hearing the scream of the engine in his ears and clearly seeing the fans waving eagerly at him; giving him the send-off they believed that he genuinely deserved. The emotions overwhelmed him as he watched them all, waving back at them all as he drove slowly, feeling the wind mess his hair up violently. The radio buzzed to life once again, sending shivers down Mark's spine.
"Nice job mate, absolutely brilliant. I know we made it pretty difficult, but it was a very good drive from you. Good race craft, good pace, nice job mate. Mixture one please, mixture one and use all the KERS if possible." Simon smiled as he gave the information to Mark.
"Fantastic career, it's been brilliant working with you. You can be proud of everything you've done, cause we certainly are. Well done." Christian added, the emotions of pride ebbing through him.
Mark pulled the car into the pitlane, happiness and elation radiating from his body, pushing the negative thoughts to the back of his mind as he was enveloped in a hug by Fernando.
"I'm so proud of you," he whispered soothingly. "I'm sorry is not the win."
"I got a podium, that'll do." Mark replied. "Thank you for the gift, too."
Fernando released Mark from his grasp and nodded, heading towards the scrutineering room, glancing over his shoulder briefly to see Mark hugging everyone from the team that he feasibly could before dashing towards scrutineering and checking his weight. He didn't stay long, choosing to make his way to the cool down room as quickly as what he could, the claps from the grid girls echoing around him, giving him a sense of achievement as he briefly recalled his success; 9 wins, 42 podiums, 13 pole positions and 19 fastest laps altogether. As he entered the room, he noted Sebastian celebrating his ninth win of the season with Christian and they celebrated together briefly, Mark not caring about what the German had to say to him and instead, turned his focus to Fernando, who grasped his hand tightly and congratulated him on the podium, shaking his hand as a small smile was painted on Mark's face. They talked briefly, mostly about the race, aiming to keep their private lives a secret for a while longer.
The drivers were all told to go to the podium and reap the rewards of their success. Fernando rushed out straight away, waving at the crowd and team, happiness ebbing through him as he patiently waited for Mark and Sebastian to appear before they could celebrate together before a private one could take place later in the day with Mark. Emerging moments later, Mark ran out on the podium, waving to everyone and soaking up the atmosphere, enjoying every second of it as he stood proudly in second place, the happiness rushing through him as he realised it was all over; he would no longer be a Formula One driver. Sebastian's name was called out as he headed towards the top step, the German and Austrian anthem bellowing loudly from the podium as the team celebrated more success and yet another one-two during the races.
The beautiful trophies were presented to everyone with the loudest cheer being given to Mark for his commitment to motorsport and to Red Bull in general; they may have had their highs and lows, but they still stuck together as a team until the end, even if it didn't feel like it in some circumstances. They all clutched their champagne tightly as they began their celebrations, Sebastian soaking Mark quickly before chasing after Christian, whilst Mark set after Fernando, soaking the Spaniard in champagne before falling on the slippery surface covered in alcohol, appearing seconds later smiling and laughing like an idiot at his own mistake. Sebastian and Fernando arrived, covering the Australian in champagne, dousing it over his face as Mark drank some and shook his head, attempting to get rid of the champagne that was beginning to sting his eyes, before Sebastian and Fernando drank some of theirs and passed it down to their retrospective teams, waiting for the interviews to take place by a Brazilian TV presenter. Christian appeared quick, an Australian flag in his hands as he passed it to Mark, holding it with pride as he wrapped the flag around his neck.
The podium celebrations flew by, with Mark stating how proud he was of his career, how thankful he was to everyone who had supported him in the early days which led him to have the chance to be a Formula One driver and prove just how talented he truly was. It was evident in the way that he talked that Mark truly appreciated every second of the time spent as a driver and the friends and rivals that he had made along the way; they had made his career worthwhile. The Championship may never have been his, but he still etched his name into the Grand Prix books and right now, that was enough for him. Walking away from the podium, Mark waved at the crowd for the final time as he slowly headed down the stairs and into the press pen, waiting to be interviewed.
Natalie Pinkham had a warm smile on her face as she waved at Mark, flipping through her small notebook filled with notes, eager to jump into the interview that she had been waiting for since the end of the race. Mark smiled at her, happy to have ended his career on a high and to finally feel liberated and not be hampered by such extreme weight limits anymore.
"Well Mark, it was only a second place, but it's clearly made you very happy. Congratulations on your final podium. What's been your career highlight?"
"I've had lots; my debut race in Australia and being allowed to go up on the podium with the flag. Germany 2009 too because that was my first win, but this feels special too. It's not a race win, but it's how I wanted my Formula One career to end."
"We've seen a lot of support for you this weekend, notably from all of the fans in the grandstand and from other drivers on the grid too. Whose support has meant the most to you?" Natalie inquired.
"Well," Mark debated. "The fans have been absolutely amazing, but I can safely say that the team's support has meant the world, and the people who have been there since the start and saw the potential in me; without their support, I wouldn't be here right now. Driver wise, I'd have to say Fernando and Jenson. I mean, they're my best friends here and both of them are incredible drivers who I rate highly. It'll be weird not seeing my mates on such a regular basis but I'm already excited for a new challenge with Porsche." Mark smiled.
"Thank you for the entertaining memories, Mark. Good luck for the future and hopefully we'll see you at a Grand Prix next year."
"Thanks Natalie, and to all of the fans out there who have supported me; thank you. This podium was for you!" Mark smiled. "Now it's time to celebrate with the team and enjoy my final hours as a Formula One driver."
* * *
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