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Lando knew it was going to be one of those days the second he opened his eyes. Everything felt too much, but not enough. Frustration flooded his veins as he realised what was happening. The beginning of a depressive episode. Of course, it had to happen two days after his P2 finish at Silverstone. Of course, it had to happen on the day he’d slept at his apartment instead of Oscars. Of course, it had to happen on the few days of freedom he’d got before training resumed for Hungary. Because that was just his luck.
Why couldn't his brain work normally? He had no reason to feel so low, so numb. He’d just had an incredible race, the car was finally somewhat driveable, he was surrounded by so many incredible friends, and he had the best boyfriend he could ask for. So why is his brain never satisfied? Why, for once in his life, could he not just be happy? He knew this was a part of him, he’d had to adjust to these episodes as a teenager. After all, depression ran in the family, and he was in an intense environment. Sometimes he wished his illness had been spurred on by an event, he wished he knew the triggers. But his depression was lifelong, fuelled by chemical imbalances that were determined to cast a grey cloud over even the best days of his life.
Lando felt drained. He’d crashed into bed at 10 pm, exhausted from the celebrations and overwhelming media attention. He was looking forward to taking Oscar out for dinner, he was looking forward to playing some games, maybe even streaming if he had the time. But now, nothing mattered. This cruel illness manifested itself in every aspect of his life and made even his biggest passions feel like a waste of time. He’d slept soundly, yet cement was weighing down his eyelids as they fought to open. He didn’t want to move. He didn't have the energy to move. Even rolling over to get comfortable in the comforting cave of his bed was too much. He didn't want to look at his phone, didn't want to watch a show. He knew there was no point trying because when these episodes hit he had the attention span of a fish. The thought of having to face the world today was too much. He needed to cry, but no more tears could fall. He didn't feel anything, yet he felt everything at once.
All he could do was write today off, kiss goodbye to any hopes of a lovely romantic meal and time to enjoy himself, and hope that this all faded by the morning. Because when the chemicals decide to act up, there's little anyone could do to make it better.
Lando had been on the maximum dose of antidepressants for around a year now. He’d always normalised his struggles, he didn't understand that not everyone had days (or weeks) where they couldn't get out of bed, couldn't shower and wanted to isolate themselves from everyone and everything. He thought it was normal, and that's what broke his heart the most. He’d been oblivious to the name of these episodes for a decade, despite adjusting to their frequent appearances in his early teens. On reflection, it broke his heart. He never had a traditional childhood as it was, because all of his time was dedicated to pushing himself to be the best driver he could be. Even when on rest bite from that, he couldn't just be normal. His brain could not deal with him being happy for more than a few days before it struck into action again. Every small task felt like climbing Everest, and every minute that passed by felt like three years. Lando was sure that he’d have a mortgage by the time the day ended at the rate it was dragging on. He knew he should’ve picked up his phone and sent Oscar a text to tell him he was feeling unwell and ask if they could rearrange, but his phone was too far away.
And, he didn’t want to be a burden.
Rationally, he knew he wasn't. Lando and Oscar had been together for around 5 months, and in that time Lando had had a few depressive episodes. It wasn't something you could hide, especially as they spent so much time together. Lando loved being around Oscar. He felt safe, warm and homely, and god knows Lando needs someone to give him that right now. As he moved away from home so young to pursue his dreams, he often forgets the maternal comfort he used to receive. He never really remembered it in the first place, hence why Oscar was so endearing. Lando knew where he belonged the second he asked Oscar out on a proper date. He didn't want to dance around his feelings and miss his chance, after all, Oscar was his dream boy. That didn't stop the fear that he was too much to love though. Despite countless instances of reassurance from the other man, Lando's brain still managed to make him out like a burden, a failure, an extra problem that Oscar didn’t need. He didn't want the other man to spend his free time worrying about him, Lando knew he would be fine, it was just one of those days. But, he could do with an Oscar hug right now.
He was always warm which sent sparks right to Lando’s chest, and lured the butterflies in his stomach out of hibernation. His arms felt right when they were wrapped around Lando’s middle, so cosy and familiar. Lando always said he could settle anywhere, providing Oscar was there to hold him, engulfing him in love and running his fingers through his curly locks as he slept. Today, he could do with that. Oscar always knew what to say, how to be gentle, how to make sure Lando knew he was enough, and he was more than his illness. Oscar fetched him some water, his meds and a slice of toast every time this happened, and bought some chewing gum for the days when Lando couldn't get out of bed to brush his teeth. He’d link arms with the other man when he needed to leave his bed, supporting his weight to make the task less strenuous. All while muttering sweet nothings and praises to him. Oscar was Lando’s biggest cheerleader, and in times like this, where he felt so rubbish at being a partner, he wondered what he ever did to deserve such patience.
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Lando cannot even remember closing his eyes again, he promised himself he wasn't going to do this. He wasn't going to sleep all day. But alas, there was someone aggressively pounding on his front door. That stupid delivery driver. Lando now regretted telling Max he could order a parcel to his place while he was away with Charles. Glancing at the alarm clock on his bedside table, it dawned on him.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He’d not messaged Oscar saying he couldn't do it today. Brilliant! Just when the day couldn't get any worse, he’d now probably got a million worried messages from the other man, all because he didn't pick up his phone and send a text. Sod the parcel, Lando thought as he pulled the duvet covers over his head, wishing the obnoxious thrumming of the door to stop, to let him rest. The volume was sending waves of anxiety through his chest, that funny feeling mixed with the chemicals making a vile concoction in his stomach. After a few minutes of intermittent banging, the noise finally ceased. And then, he heard a key turn in the lock. Lando hadn’t used his voice all day, and he wasn't about to start now. If this was someone coming to rob the place, what a poetic way for it to happen.
He stayed buried beneath the covers until he heard the soothing tones of a familiar voice speak into the room. “Oh, my love. Are you okay? Lando, please darling.”
He’d forgotten Oscar had a spare key.
The earlier numbness transcended into unstoppable tears, Lando peeking his head out of the top of the duvet and looking up at the other man desperately. He knew his eyes read ‘Help me.’ But at this point, he was too far gone to care.
“Oh, darling. It's okay, hey! I'm here, I promise you. Can I hug you?” He always asked. He must’ve known exactly how Lando was feeling from the sombre atmosphere coating the room.
Lando weakly nodded, hurling himself at the other man and letting himself bawl. Hysterical, heart-breaking sobs that Oscar knew meant one thing. Today was a bad day. They were coated in anguish, a desperate cry for help. They spoke more than words ever would, but Oscar thinks that's solely because he knew what his boyfriend was like, probably better than he knew himself.
Lando allowed himself to let out a few ugly sniffles and thick coughs before speaking, voice horse. “I am so sorry, love. I meant to text you but my phone was too far away and I just can't do this today! I'm sorry it's just the chemicals, I'm sorry you have to see this.` It came out far too rushed, he was anxious.
“Hey, darling. I need you to take a few deep breaths for me, okay? I’ll do them with you.” Oscar was far too kind. Lando didn't know why he’d settled for him, but he was too overwhelmingly grateful for the man's presence to unpack that insecurity right now. Following his breathing patterns, he finally managed to halt the sobs escaping from his body forcefully and dissolved them into hiccups. God, his eyes stung.
“I thought it was one of those days when I hadn't heard from you. I know you struggle to reach out, and you’ve given me your spare key so I just wanted to come round and check. I’m sorry for just letting myself in like that, but I care about you love. I needed to know you were okay.” Lando shook his head lightly, reassuring Oscar he’d done no wrong.
“Glad you came” He spoke gently, nestling himself further into Oscar's side and rubbing his free hand at his eyes. Oscar pulled it away and gently began wiping away the residual tears with the pad of his thumb.
“Me too. Have you had your meds and a drink today?” Oscar knew to use yes and no questions when Lando was like this. It made things feel less overwhelming. He thought he already knew the answer, but it was worth an ask anyway. His suspicions were confirmed when Lando bowed his head, shaking it slowly. This was where the embarrassment kicked in. What kind of grown man couldn't pull himself up to take his meds?
Oscar knew what to do next, as he reassured Lando he would be back, he freed himself from the older man's hold and padded to the kitchen, filling up a litre bottle of water and grabbing his pill packet off of the counter, popping two out and returning it to its home. As he walked back in, he offered Lando the goods, to which he accepted without hesitation.
“See, you’re doing so good angel! There's one thing off the list, I am so proud of you, okay? You never have to be ashamed to ask for help or tell me when the chemicals are acting up. I don't want you to feel like you have to pretend with me, because I want to help, if you’ll let me, sweet. You don't have to battle this alone.”
Lando was overridden with love for the man who sat at the foot of the bed, looking at him with big, glowing eyes. Oscar made him see that he was not weak for needing help, the most valuable lesson anybody had ever taught him.
“I do have one favour to ask?”
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And that's how they ended up in the bathroom, with Oscar standing in the bath, holding the shower head over Lando’s wet locks. He had been desperate for a hair wash, but couldn't face running a shower and standing for that prolonged period. Lando put on some swimming shorts, and perched himself on the bathroom floor, head resting on the cold edge of the porcelain tub.
Oscar had been so gentle, whispering praises to him and talking to him about mindless things, all to aid as a distraction. Lando was a man of few words when he felt like this, but Oscar knew he appreciated it. Nothing was better than the silence that made Lando think about how bleak things felt. The man was humming along to everything Oscar had to say, making happy noises when he gently massaged his scalp with shampoo, taking extra care to ensure his scalp was fully moisturised before he dared wash it out. He noticed Lando’s eyes begin to droop shut, chuckling gently to himself at how cute he was when he was so relaxed. For the first time since he arrived, Oscar thought Lando looked peaceful.
And Oscar knew that when things got hard, he’d be kind to Lando even when the chemicals weren’t.