1 + 1 - Bonus Scene Seven
Pairing - Daniel Ricciardo/Jean-Eric Vergne
Rating - Green Flag
Summary - Future Fic. (+15 years-ish)
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“Papa, Dad says that you should really get back here, like, now.” Alice says, as soon as Jean-Eric picks up the phone, wedging his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he types in his pin code, dumping the last bag in his trolley.
“How urgent is this? I’m just leaving the supermarket now, so if he wants anything, then?”
“He says it’s very urgent and you should get back here, like, now.”
“I’m on my way.” He says, hangs up and somehow avoids breaking any laws on the way home.
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Dan’s leant on the kitchen island when he gets back, bent over while Alice rubs his back. “These two are on their way.” He gets out, before he has to put his head on his folded arms, panting his way through the contraction tightening across his back and stomach. Jean-Eric nudges Alice’s hand away from his back, digging his fingers in slightly because he can still remember how much that had helped him.
“Come on then. Alice, can you call the Doctor for me, please?” Alice nods, already dialing the number as Jean-Eric helps Dan out to the car, carefully lowering him in because nine months pregnant with twins and Dan’s balance is shot at. “Two minutes, and we’ll go. Alice! Get in the car!” He yells at Alice as she stands in the kitchen, snatching his house keys and Dan’s hospital bag.
“Coming Dad.” She scowls. “Why can’t I come?”
“Because you’re not seeing me in surgery.” Dan answers, squirming around to try to find a comfortable position. “Every half-hour, tell her, Alice, please.” Alice relays the information while Jean-Eric reverses out of their drive, sets off to Antonio’s house.
“Behave.” He tells her, leaning out of the window to kiss her on the cheek. “We’ll phone you, alright?”
“Is good luck the right thing to say?” Alice frets, clutching her bag to her.
“Yes. See if he’ll take you out shopping or something.” Dan calls across, clutches her fingers when she leans across Jean-Eric and kisses her hand. “Go on.” He nudges her to where Antonio’s waiting on his porch, and immediately drops his head forward, cupping his hands around the bottom of his huge bump and groaning.
“I’m going.” Jean-Eric tells him, offers a hand for him to hold onto once he’s got going on the motorway to the nearest hospital.
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They’re not taken straight into surgery when they arrive at the hospital. There’s tests first, one last glimpse of their babies before they born, before they wheel Dan down to theatre. He’s considerably calmer than he’d looked when Jean-Eric had first walked into their kitchen four hours ago, giggling at Jean-Eric in scrubs, hair shoved under a hair net.
Just like fifteen years ago, Jean-Eric clings to Dan’s hand, holding tight. Only this time he’s not the one giving birth, it’s Dan who’s lying still, having their babies cut out of him. “It feels really weird.” Dan murmurs, closing his eyes as Jean-Eric tucks a stray curl back underneath his own hair net.
“What like?” Jean-Eric asks, because this hadn’t been how he’d given birth to Alice. He’d had to do it the traditional way, but it had been judged far too risky for Dan and the twins.
“Like, tugging. That’s all I can feel. That’s the weird bit.” Dan starts to explain, only they both silence themselves as a thin cry bursts free, Jean-Eric half-standing to glimpse the baby held up by the surgeon.
“Baby one.” She announces, hands the baby off to a nearby nurse, who’s swift to dry him off, wrap him up, give him his wristband, all before the second boy is born, limbs flailing but silent until he’s roughly rubbed dry and then he screams his displeasure. Dan’s crying, silent tears, as Jean-Eric carefully moves his arms for him so he can hold the oldest. The youngest is still mewling; tiny face scrunched up as Jean-Eric rocks him gently.
“He’s-they’re perfect, Jev.” He marvels, and it doesn’t seem like any time at all passes until he’s back in his room, babies swapped now. “They’re less squished than Alice.”
“Just as beautiful though.” Jean-Eric replies, glancing up from trying to tempt his baby into feeding. “Guess Alice’s names aren’t good though.”
“No. I don’t think you’d appreciate being called Hannah, do you?” Dan asks the baby curled up on his chest.
“We need to call Alice.” Jean-Eric says, smiles down at his now feeding son. “See, you were hungry. You were just trying to annoy me, I see how it’s going to be.”
“French names. Pierre.”
“Never liked it.”
“Jean. Eric. Charles. Romain. Jules. Arthur. Tom. Olivier. Alain. Sebastien.”
“You can’t just list French racing drivers.” Jean-Eric points out.
“I just have.”
“Benjamin.” Jean-Eric suggests, frowns down as he tries to find a suitable name.
“What, let’s go alphabetical? He can be Benjamin and this little one can be Christopher.” Dan says, and that’s the end of it.
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Alice is quiet, almost shy when she knocks on the door and peers around. “Hi darling.” Dan yawns, beckons her over. Ben’s asleep, cradled in the crook of his arm, looking so much like Dan did as a baby.
“Hi Dad.” She whispers, peering over as Dan wraps an arm around her back, gently pulling her to sit down next to him. “He’s so cute.”
“Until he starts screaming.” Jean-Eric says, grins at his daughter as he walks over. “You want to hold him?”
“Yes, please!” Christopher settles with her, giving her a fuzzily curious look before he closes his eyes too. “Is this Christopher, or?”
“That’s Chris. This is Ben.” Dan gently pulls off Ben’s tiny hat, grins.
“He’s got your hair.” Alice comments, smiles. Jean-Eric sits down on the end of the bed and pokes Alice’s bag. “That’s for you. And them. Ant took me shopping.” She’s bought them a set of photo frames, because she knows perfectly well it’s the one thing they haven’t got yet.
“Come on then, let’s fill them.” Jean-Eric says, darts out to get a nurse, hands over his phone. “Photo time.”
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“They’re better than my world championships and yours put together.” Dan whispers, leant against the doorframe. Alice is sat in the shade of the tree in the garden, playing with the twins, tickling their tiny feet as they giggle. Jean-Eric slides an arm around his waist, leans into him.
“Yeah.” He murmurs back, kisses Daniel softly, sweetly. “To think, one drunken night in Spa lead to all of this.”
“Makes you glad for Vodka and Red Bull, doesn’t it?” Dan says, and Jean-Eric laughs, watches Alice’s head turn around, grinning in that way that’s so familiar because that’s Jean-Eric’s smile.
“Makes me glad that I got you and we got this.” He decides, and lets his hand entwine with Dan’s, leads them over to join the rest of their family. And it truly is perfect.