She didn't come back to be seen.
And yet... they both noticed.
Twelve years after a crash shattered everything, Y/n Auclair returns to the paddock...quieter, guarded, no longer anyone's secret. But some things don't fade. Not the way Pierre watches...
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Summary: As qualifying looms, Y/n's nerves resurface and so does Pierre. But the tension isn't just about racing. Content warnings: References to a past racing accident, Mentions anxiety and nervousness Word count: 1.3k
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The morning of qualifying brought with it a different kind of heat. Not just the sun, which had sharpened since yesterday, but the kind that buzzed in the walls of the paddock. It was electric and relentless. Everyone was busier. Louder. Sharper. Like something was about to happen.
Y/n felt it immediately.
Jacques had barely slept, not that he ever really did during a race weekend. He was already deep in conversation with an engineer by the time she finished her espresso in the McLaren hospitality building. Their mother sat next to her, fingers twitching with energy, while her dad sat on the opposite side of the booth reading a printout of lap times like it was scripture.
"Don't fidget," her mother said gently, adjusting the sleeves of Y/n's blazer.
"I'm not," she lied, even as her leg bounced.
"You are," her dad murmured without looking up. "Same as November, 2013."
She rolled her eyes, but her chest pinched a little. That was the month of Jacques's crash. The one they all pretended didn't shape their lives in quiet ways afterward.
"I'm fine," she said softly.
Her mum offered a look. "No one said you weren't."
They walked out into the paddock as a family, and for a while it helped. The sun on her shoulders. The swell of crowd noise. Her mum looping her arm through hers like she used to when they were younger.
But when Jacques peeled off toward the garage, her parents following him along with the rest of the people they'd brought, the nerves began to creep back in, winding around her like something familiar and cold. This wasn't about her. She wasn't the one driving. But still.
"You okay?" a voice asked from behind her, and she recognised it instantly.
"Yeah, of course," she nodded, unconvincingly.
Pierre let a small exhale leave his nose, knowing the girl too well.
He'd always been able to read her. Knew her like the back of his hand still, after all this time.
"He'll be fine, you know. He's better than he was before. Wiser, more skilled," Pierre listed, smiling at her although talking seriously.
