From Deep End to Surface and Everything In Between (Sebastian Vettel FanFic)

The Olympics

She saw Emerson standing on the side of the pool, and she launched her into his arms and into a deep kiss to buy her time to gather herself mentally. The win was for him, her other rock beside her coach. 'I love you.' She whispered to his ear since the area was very loud. 'Me too', he murmured to her before she moved on to hug Bob. To him, she whispered: 'I'm tired, Bob.' He squeezed her tighter. 'One more, Scar. You can do it.'

All those events during the week had led her to stand in the foyer one last time. She twisted around the room, staring at the white walls, the chairs and volunteers running around her. She closed her eyes, letting the background noise fade away. A soft smile appeared on her lips when the music filled her senses. She imagined her perfect race again and again, up to the tiniest detail of perfection. Less than 25 seconds parted her from being a retired swimmer.

Once she felt ready with the run-through, she popped her eyes open, passion driving through them, and the noise returned. She adjusted the headphones but kept her focus in front of her. She had her ritual. Since it was her last time, and Bob's words rang in her head, she paid more attention to it; the colours, the details, people, noises and vibe. She sank in all of them, finding strength from them, allowing them to surround her and letting them lift her from the ground.

Once the call happened, everything was enhanced and slow-motion, vividly pressed into her memory. The walk to the start felt somewhat shorter than before as it came to an end too quickly. Way too soon, she was standing behind her lane, staring into the beautiful blue water that had given her comfort all those years. When she put her goggles on, Bob's words rang in her ears: '- Swim with your heart and soul.'

One last time. Then Scar finally felt what she had craved when she had heard the news all those months ago: peace. Scar knew she would be okay as she had accomplished so much, and her records were there to be broken by someone equally ambitious and fearless athlete.

When she heard the first whistle, she stepped on the podium. 'On your marks.' Silence. Every cell on her body was pumped up with adrenaline when she waited. Peep.

She flew forward. First kick, second kick... The first stroke, second stroke... Holding breath for 25 seconds. Her body was already tired, the lactic acid crept in quicker than she had anticipated, but she pushed. She pushed through all the emotions she had felt during the week; doubt, self-pity, anger, exhaustion, you name it. But, on the bottom line, she wanted to finish high, as her career had begun. She tried to remember the hype and adrenaline.

10 metres. Scar wanted to give up; she was tired. 5 metres. She didn't want the race to end. Then she felt the cool tile against her palm. She lifted herself into a vertical position in the water and turned to look at the screen, gasping in shock and relief. Winner: Scarlette Smith. The last win had been for herself, to celebrate her milestones in a sport she had loved her entire life.

Finally, she returned to the present; the screams, the cheers and noise, the congratulations and hugs from her rivals. She was in a dream, and everything felt like a blur. She felt distracted from her body, looking from a distance when she swam slowly out of the pool, got up and waved to the crowd before she ran into Bod's arms in the nearby stand.

She didn't hear what Bob said to her, but she didn't care. She knew he reflected what she was feeling: the happiness, bittersweetness and everything in-between. Emerson was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't shine her win any lesser. She was happy and enjoying the moment to her fullest. She had achieved what she wanted, finishing high.

Her emotions were hyphened for the rest of the day. Her eyes glittered in tears during interviews. She bit her lip to prevent her crying when she heard the national anthem, and the gold medal was placed on her neck. The round around the pool was short and over way too soon for her liking. She tried her best to embrace the moment, sinking in the atmosphere and the cheers. From the outside perspective, it almost appeared that she was saying goodbye. Whoever had that thought quickly dismissed it as Scar was still on the top of her career, so why would she retire? How close they hit with their first thoughts.

Sho took her time with the cooldown, with more interviews, chats with other swimmers. She wasn't in a hurry to head after race interviews. Bob and she kept their post-race practicalities in place. They treated the games the same as the races before then. She wanted to know what went well. They didn't focus on improvement areas. The ritual was her checklist, ticking one box at a time until she sat in the dressing room, back in the team uniform. She watched at her medals before her, trying to wrap her head around what had happened during the week. The uneasiness and anxiety were gone, replaced with pride. She had made it. When she put her medals away, the momentum was over, and she was heading towards one last post-race press conference before she was done.

Emerson appeared before she entered the press conference. She was indifferent when he began his excuses for his absence. 'Darling', she grabbed his hand and ushered a smile to her tired features; she wasn't used to filtering so many feelings during the meets. 'I'm just happy you're here.' She gave him a quick peck to his lips. 'Let's talk later. I have an announcement to make.' He nodded in defeat as he knew what her announcement was about and a topic they had argued about since their anniversary daily. 'Okay.'

'Okay.' She tore her eyes off him, feeling already the glory wearing out of her. She sat down in front of the flashes and lowered her eyes to the table before lifting them. Emerson watched when her wife's gentle look changed.

The famous vail had landed before her, and she had become the ice queen that media and her fans so dearly adored, making him sigh. She was in their mercy, and they loved her.

'I'll keep this brief'', she started, voice strong and steady, like she was talking about pleasantries. 'After careful consideration, I have decided to retire from swimming with an immediate effect. They are so many people that I wish to thank you for all the hard work, dedication and support over the years. But, above all, thank you, Bob, from the bottom of my heart for sticking to my side for all these years and making me the best swimmer I could be.' The heavy emotions glittered in her eyes when she turned her attention towards Bob, who looked ready for the waterfalls. He mouthed: 'You're welcome.'

The shouts and cameras flashed kept going on after her brief statement. She finally felt in peace and content, finally reached the final stage of grieving - acceptance that her swimming career was, in fact, over.