Chapter Text
October 2029
When George sees her, the first thing he thinks is—
Well. Alex, sweat-soaked and completely shocked, says it best when the midwife first lifts Baby Girl up from between his legs, and sets her against his chest.
“Oh my God.”
He sounds terrified; even as his arms come up on instinct to cradle her, George thinks that the midwife may as well have handed Alex a tarantula, or a live nuclear warhead. He’s not spoken in hours, barely made a sound beyond the small, sharp little pants he’d let out between pushes. He’s still on the birthing stool, George is still sat behind, helping him to balance. He’s just brought their daughter into the world— and apparently there’s only one thing he has to say about it. “Oh my God. Oh my God…”
It’s a pretty decent summary, if George is being honest: sort of awed, sort of begging for fucking mercy. Parenting encompassed, and exemplified, and she’s not even half a minute old.
George can’t quite account for how he feels, in the seconds that follow. There’s joy there, of course, and more love than he knows what to do with— but there’s also the very real, very scary fact that she’s here, no longer tucked safely away inside Alex, where all they really had to do to ensure her safety was keep him off raw fish, and pray that the many, many plane rides between races would take off and land without incident. He’s shaking, he realises, only when he reaches up to wipe at the bright red smear Baby Girl has left on Alex’s chin where he’s holding her close. George’s thumb catches in it, and for just a second makes it worse. He can’t really see properly; he’s dizzy, and the tears streaking down his cheeks don’t make it any easier— and in the end he just does what he’d wanted to do all along, kisses Alex, viscera and all, as their daughter screams furiously, beautifully, between them.
“Hello, little love,” George says thickly, and only then does Alex give a great big sniff too, smiling so wide despite the state he’s in. It’s like permission, in a way; her name slips out of him seconds later, new to the world at large, if not to them. “Hello Emily…”
“Oh, that’s lovely.”
The midwife’s been a gem, George has to admit. Twelve-plus hours on her feet, and she’s smiling almost as much as they are. “Little Emily, welcome— and you did so well, Alex.”
“Cheers.”
“No, you did.” There’s a good scrub-down for Emily, and a damp cloth for George to help Alex do the same, wiping his chin clean from blood, and his forehead clear of sweat. “Really - maybe the calmest I’ve ever seen. You almost made it look easy.”
“Oh, well I’m glad to hear that,” Alex says, in that disarming way he has of being completely and utterly savage whilst still smiling. “I’m glad it looked easy. It felt like shoving a whole chicken through a rubber glove.”
To give the midwife her due, she only freezes a second or two before laughing. It’s a lesson most folks have to learn the hard way, George thinks - Alex is just so bloody polite when he’s on TV.
“We’ll do her measurements and that in a bit,” she says, though far as George is concerned, she could have said anything, from ‘no one will notice three extra toes,’ to ‘we just live-streamed the whole birth on Sky Sports.’ All his focus is on the little bean in her arms, and on what she could possibly think of this big, bright world, full of strangers and smells, and so very far removed from the comfy little space she’s occupied for all this time inside Alex. It must be awful to be apart from him, and awful for Alex too, from her— which is why George is shocked when the midwife angles the little bundle, not towards Alex, but towards him instead.
“Wh—"
“Your turn, Daddy,” Alex says, and well, if George wasn’t in tears before—
It’s not the first time he’s held a baby, but it is the first time he’s been so incredibly scared to do so. He has to fight for the calm to settle around them as he cradles her little head, which should feel like a contradiction in terms, and does— only George gets this feeling that’s going to be the constant sum of his life now, so long as Emily is in it: forcing the calm, so his little girl can float.
Alex barely breaks a sweat delivering the placenta - in fact he waves off George’s attempt to hold his hand, and shortly thereafter gets (fairly) steadily to his feet, makes his way to the bed so George and Emily can join him.
“Jesus Christ,” Alex says when he’s lying propped against the pillows, Emily against his bare chest, and a blanket around them both. “That was not fun. Like, on a scale of one to ‘we’re never having sex again,’ you’d better get used to sleeping in jeans.”
“Mm,” George says, only half-listening. He’s got a knuckle against Emily’s tiny hand, gently stroking, marvelling at the way she loosens and tightens her grip. “I can live with that. The nuns are always hiring, right?”
“Sister Russell,” Alex muses, sleepily smiling. “George ‘Wimple’ Russell…” He ekes an eye open where they’ve started to droop. “Can you tell they gave me diamorphine?”
“The thing you refused to take when you were actually in labor?” George asks, and helps scooch Emily’s bum upwards where Alex’s arms have gone loose and floppier around her. “Never could’ve guessed.”
“You’re just jealous,” Alex says, his eyes drooping again before he says: “Georgie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you fucking believe this?”
George can’t— but there’ll be a time for words, plenty of them, when Alex isn’t half-high, and about to have the best sleep of his life. He leans over instead, and presses a kiss to his husband’s head as he gently lifts Emily into his own arms.
Alex is snoring before she’s fully off him, and though it truly pains George to put her in the little bassinet by the bed, he knows they’ll all sleep better, and safer, with her in it as opposed to in his arms.
It’s for the best, he thinks, even as he leaves one hand curled protectively over the plastic edge. After all, tomorrow or the next day, he’s got to pull off the most dangerous drive of his life to get them all home.
**
F1 Grid 2029-30
tap here for group info
12:34 - George Russell sent a photo
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Emily Aranya Albon-Russell Ansusinha 💕 29/10, 7llb 3oz
Alex is asking who won the pool.
12:35 - Andrea Kimi Antonelli
!!!
Felicitazioni fratelli!
12:36 - Esteban Ocon
🥳🥳
12:36 - Lance Stroll
nice one guys 😎
12:37 - Lewis Hamilton
Congrats guys
12:39 - Oscar Piastri
Great name 🥳 congrats
14 unread messages
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13:03 - Isack Hadjar
so who did win?
13:06 - Oscar Piastri
Lando?
13:10 - Lando Norris
so it’s a rogue win and 500 squids for lance with ‘E’ for the name then a 2k collective pot for the other 3 categories so let me just check the list
13:11 - Carlos Sainz
The suspense kills me.
13:18 - Lando Norris
yeah so can we all agree seb needs kicking from this fucking chat?
13:18 - Charles Leclerc
Seriously?
13:18 - Carlos Sainz
Really? Again?
13:19 - Fernando Alonso
vete a la mierda
13:20 - Sebastian Vettel
I don’t apologise for winning.
13:21 - Lando Norris
probably should apologise for cheating tho
13:22 - Sebastian Vettel
That is an extraordinary accusation.
13:23 - Fernando Alonso
is not a false one though?
13:23 - Sebastian Vettel
No
13:24 - Alex Albon
Alright everyone, handbags away
13:25 - George Russell
They’ve got a point @SebastianVettel. How the hell do you always win these?
13:26 - Sebastian Vettel
I’m perceptive.
13:27 - Sebastian Vettel
Though I am still not seeing €1,500 in my bank account…
13:28 - Oscar Piastri
It’s with the stewards.
13:32 - Oscar Piastri
Did you just get Mark to message me your fucking complaints?
13:33 - Sebastian Vettel
I have leverage.
13:34 - Alex Albon
Can you grab pizza?
13:35 - Oscar Piastri
??
13:34 - Alex Albon
Sorry, wrong chat
13:35 - Lando Norris
steward ruling - clear violation
13:36 - Sebastian Vettel
Bullshit. On what grounds?
13:36 - Lando Norris
on grounds that your clearly lying and you’ve been secretly measuring alex for 9 months
13:37 - Alex Albon
He hasn’t.
13:37 - Lando Norris
alex shut up this doesn’t concern you
13:35 - Lewis Hamilton
Norris I’m begging would you just pay the man?
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13:40 - Alex Albon
@GeorgeRussell Seriously, though. Pizza?
13:41 - George Russell
Yes dear.