Max felt his mind slam into his big headspace, unnaturally sudden and it took him two blink before he realised that Bradley was leaning over him, just having closed the new diaper.
"God, oh, I think I'm going to be sick," Max said, feeling the nausea settle in his stomach while h thought about what had just happened. He sat up, holding his head, feeling slightly dizzy and looking shamefaced at the other people in the room "please tell me it was just dream?"
"You mean, with Jos?" Charles asked, crouching down next to Max and patting his back. The little looking at him, and then flushing, looking away while he tried to tug his shirt lower, just realising that he was sitting in just his diaper and a shirt.
"No, not with dad. I meant.... did you really carry me across the paddock? Wailing like that?" Max asked, his face red in embarrassment and looking at Bradley. How was he ever going to explain this to his dad, who had given up so much to make sure Max had a change with driving in F1.
"Yes I did. You were kind of inconsolable, and you wouldn't let go," Bradley said gently, and Max shifted nervously.
"Does that mean that everyone...knows?" Max asked, looking desperately at Bradley, hoping that the man would deny.
"Well, you know how the rumor mill goes, and a lot of people saw us," Bradley hedged around the answer, but Max understood. With a groan he buried his hands in his face, feeling his stomach doing flip-flops.
"God, this can't get any worse," he muttered, making Charles and Bradley frown.
"Don't worry about it. Christian is already speaking with the PR and we got a few statements out. So far the news is received very positively on social media," Bradley said, hoping to comfort Max, but the little shook his head, not looking any happier.
"And my dad?" Max asked, his voice sounding scared. He moved his hands a little, so he was able to see Bradley, and it almost felt to Charles as a mimicry from the game they had been playing before, but this time, no laughs or smiles where visible on Max's face.
"What about him?" Charles asked, a bit aggressively, making Max flinch back a little, before looking at Charles.
"Was he really mad? Is he still around here somewhere," Max asked, feeling apprehensive for the answer, "I should go and apologize,"
"Apologize?" Bradley asked, staring in horror at Max, who nodded in response, looking anxious.
"Yeah. I just, if I can find my phone," Max muttered, looking around, and suddenly noticing again hat his pants weren't there, and neither was his stuff, "I'm not wearing pants. And these aren't my diapers,"
"Those sucked," Bradley said, feeling upset at the way Max seemed to be stuck on wanting to contact Jos, "These ones are better,"
"But, they aren't mine," Max said, "dad doesn't like them if they have pretty pictures,"
"Well, Jos is not the one wearing them," Bradley said, sounding a little cross for the moment, hating to hear in how many ways the man had influenced Max, even in his choice of protection, which should be chosen for how comfortable they were and how much they absorbed, "besides, these take lots more fluid, and irritate less,"
"They do?" Max asked, looking down at the kitty in front, "but... dad says I have to wear white ones,"
"Why?" Charles asked, trying to divert the attention, seeing that Bradley was getting a bit flustered at the insistence of Max.
"...because these are for littles," Max said in a small voice.
"But you are a little," Charles said, not unkindly, "so these are just good for you,"
Max frowned a little, but seemed to be unwilling to fight about it any longer.
"Can I have my phone. I want to call dad," he said instead, "you said that no one minded me being a little right?"
"No one minded," Bradley said, wondering why Max suddenly asked.
"That's good. If I tell daddy, he won't be very angry at me. And if I say sorry, he might not even take bunny away because I've been bad," Max said, more muttering to himself, "was he really angry? I can't remember. He seemed angry, but he didn't..."
Max trailed off at the end, deciding it was best to not say that he hadn't been spanked or punished by his dad, not wanting to bring the caregivers on any ideas. Once again he looked at Charles, remembering the man indulging his little side while playing peek-a-boo. It must have been very embarrassing for the Ferrari driver.
"I'm going to get your pants, and then I think we best go to Christian," Bradley said, getting up, "stay here with Charles, I'll be right back,"
Bradley knew he was ordering Max around, he knew he was sounding strict and harsh, but he couldn't control the anger that had suddenly overwhelmed him. Glad to be out of the little room, he gave an angry sigh, walking to the gym where Max's stuff was.
He couldn't believe that Max felt the need to apologize to the son of a bitch, the feeling of wrongness strong in him. The little was the one who got hurt, and if someone needed to get an apology, it was Max, not Jos, who thought it fit to destroy the paci.
Quickly walking to the gym, he grabbed Max's shorts and his cell, looking at the item. He didn't have the right to withhold it from Max, seeing that he was an adult. Feeling conflicted, he stood still for a moment, until the item started to vibrate and he saw that 'dad' was calling, for the sixth time already.
Bradley scowled at it, and put it in his pocket, making a decision. True, he couldn't withhold it from Max, but he could hold it until Max had talked with Christian. The team leader would be able to explain to the little that his dad was banned from the paddock and perhaps he could convince Max that Jos was bad for him.
Instead of immediately returning to Max, he took a detour, looking into the room which was half filled with journalists. Catching Christian's gaze, he gave a sign. He was quite sure the man saw him, but his speech didn't falter, calm tones explaining that Max was a little, and that they knew.
It always surprised Bradley that the man could stay so calm in these kinds of situation, rarely shouting in anger or swearing even when things took him by surprise. Christian quickly managed to end the interview, not allowing any questions while he moved out of the room.
"Bradley, something wrong?" Christian asked, putting a hand on his shoulder and easily guiding him away from overhearing ears.
"Max wants to apologize to his dad," Bradley said, forcing out the words in a wave of disgust and anger, not at Max, but at how Jos had warped the mind to take the blame for being he was. To his surprise he only received a calm nod back from Christian.
"You're not surprised?" Bradley asked, and Christian shrugged.
"Max has always been rather...adoring towards his father," Christian said, "where is he now?"
"Still in the Mclaren naproom. He didn't have any pants," Bradley said, gesturing to the shorts he had been carrying, "I was about to bring it to him, and his cell. He wants to call his dad, but I thought it better that you talk to him first,"
"That's probably the case," Christian said, relieved that Max wouldn't be able to contact his dad immediately, "I'll come with you. He's big now?"
"Yeah, he," Bradley said.
"Is Max taking it well?" Christian asked, throwing a curious look with just a smidge of concern towards Bradley, who just shrugged.
"He seemed more concerned about his dad then about him being outed," Bradley said, and Christian nodded, already having expected that.
Max in the meanwhile looked at the door Bradley had disappeared through, having noticed the angry edge to his trainer's voice, and knowing it had been him that caused it. Probably because all the trouble they had to go through to make sure Max his public image was still okay.
His dad had warned him that he wasn't extremely popular like other driver's because they had wonderful personalities. The only thing he had going for him was winning races.
Now they knew he was a little, he would have to work so much harder, but that's okay. He could do that, he would show his dad that he still was a racewinner, and he would be able to make the man proud of him.
A small sound, and Max turned towards Charles, who saw him glance at him. Immediately, Max felt a flush heat his cheeks, and looks away embarrassed.
Tugging down his shirt a little, he was dismayed to notice it was too short to really hide anything, but right now it didn't matter. He got up, and looked at Charles, trying to fight the embarrassment over the diaper. Still, he shifted his position so his hands where slightly hiding it.
"So," Max said awkwardly, "sorry about before,"
"Sorry?" Charles said, noticing that Max was a bit uncomfortable and doing his best not to stare to much at the little, hoping to put him a little at ease.
"Yeah, for you know, the peek-z-boo thing. I'm just a bit stupid when I'm in headspace," Max said, trying to sound causal, hoping that the other driver wasn't going to make fun of him.
"You weren't stupid," Charles said, frowning a bit more.
"Of course I was. You must have been bored out of your mind. You know you can just leave me on my own until I get big. That's much easier to handle," Max said, even though the company had been enjoyable, and the fun he had still lingered in his mind.
"Max, I liked playing with you. You weren't stupid, you were adorable and we had fun together," Charles said, staring at Max, feeling bad about the easy way the other one said to just leave him alone even if he was so small in his headspace. It was something he couldn't make himself do, his caregiver instincts wouldn't let him, and logic told him to not leave someone so small on his own.
Max flushed once again at Charles words, never having expected his rival to call him adorable.
"What?" Max said in surprise, "you can't be serious?"
"I am. You were absolutely adorable. And you looked more relaxed than I've seen you in months. Perhaps you should spend a little more time in headspace," Charles said with a smile, wanting to reassure Max, "a lot of us wouldn't mind that,"
"You just want to make it easier to beat me," Max said, "giving in will just make me weak and unfocused,"
"And that's where you are wrong," Christian said when he stepped through the door, just having overheard the last of the conversation.
Max whipped around, not having expected to see him, and suddenly he was even more aware of what he was wearing. He didn't imagine the quick glance that Christian gave him, but the man didn't even mention it.
"What do you mean, wrong?" Max asked feeling his stomach clench a little, almost expecting him to say that he didn't have to worry about being beat anymore since he was not allowed to go on the track again. How would he ever be able to face his dad again if Christian uttered those words, and Max was ready to make a thousand promises to just stay on the team.
"You are wrong, because giving in to headspace once in a while will just make you all the more reliable," Christian explained, "we see it in lots of littles across different sports. A good regular schedule with headspace times can even up their performances by 30%,"
"Seriously?" Max asked, blinking at them in disbelief, "but dad said..."
"Ah, about Jos," Christian said, still a smile on his face, even though it was looking slightly strain "we have seen the security cams from when he stormed in while you were napping. After analysing them, we decided to send them to the authorities. For your safety, they have decided to put him on a temporary restraining order for now,"
"What? But he's my dad," Max said, his arms coming up to hug himself. The man had always been so dominatingly present in his life, that even the thought of him not being there was giving Max stress, and a feeling of loss.
"He is," Christian agreed, "and his attitude has been mentally harming you for a long time. So far, we've been lucky,"
"Lucky?" Charles said in surprise, not thinking that anything about this situation was lucky. Everyone looked at him, as if they had forgotten that he had been there.
"Yes lucky. Do you know what happens to littles who don't regress regularly?" Christian asked, and Bradley let out a sigh, while Charles looked shocked, and Max just looked at him with a stubborn eyes.
"But I do regress regularly," Max said, "so there is no way I will involuntarily regress,"
"How often, how deep and with which caregiver?" Christian asked, and Max blinked at the question.
"I...uhm, like once or twice a week, an hour each time, I guess, just on my own. I always make sure I can get out again in case of an emergency," Max explained, feeling a bit uncomfortable about talking about that aspect of his life, always having been told that it was taboo.
"That' won't cut it," Bradley muttered, "too little, no caregivers around to help balance hormones, and probably never deep enough,"
Max glared at the man when he said that, thinking that he was perfectly capable of managing it on his own. His dad had taught him to be the best, and he knew that being the best meant being in control all the time. Christian saw the glare, and gave a sigh.
"Max, for your safety and for the safety of you and the other drivers on the track, we can't risk you regressing when you're racing," Christian explained and Max's eyes widend.
"But..."
"Max, I know this is difficult, and the choice is with you, but if you want to stay in the team, we need to put a regular schedule on your headspace times. You can regress more if you want to, but you need a minimum to be safe," Christian said reasonable.
"And...and dad?" Max asked hesitantly, already feeling as if he had disappointed the man. Christian gave a sigh.
"Max, he hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt any of my drivers," Christian said, and Max swallowed, feeling the tears prick in his eyes.
"He just did it because he wanted the best of me," Max said, feeling a tear slip out.
"You can still see him, but supervised by a caregiver," Christian said, "we're not taking away your freedom, you can still see and go whoever and wherever you are; But the abuse law states that people aren't allowed to see their abusers on their own, in fear to be emotionally manipulated again,"
"You think everyone will be okay with... with this?" Max asked, gesturing to himself.
"I see nothing wrong," Christian said, "so, what do you say? Are we going to work out a good schedule?"
Max thought it over a bit. Being a driver had been a lifelong dream for him, and he had always believed his dad when he had said that indulging into his headspace was going to be the end of his career.
Only it wasn't. It seemed that the opposite was true. Not indulging in it was more likely to end his career then indulging in it right. Perhaps if he could explain it to his dad, then the man would understand and he wouldn't mind.
Swallowing, he nodded.
"Sure, why not," he said faintly, and Christian gave him a pat on his shoulder.
"That's great. Why don't you get some pants on, and then you and Bradley can come to my office and we'll talk about the specifics."