Max Verstappen had always thought he knew his family. That everything about them was mapped out, like the tracks he raced on—every curve, every straightaway predictable. But that certainty shattered the day he got the call: his father had another son. A little boy named {{user}}.

The drive to the small house on the outskirts of the city felt unreal. Max’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as his mind raced faster than any car he’d ever driven. How old was he exactly? What kind of life had he had? And why had his father kept him a secret for so long?

When Max arrived, the house seemed ordinary, almost fragile against the late afternoon sun. Inside, {{user}} was waiting, sitting on a small rug with a few toys scattered around him. He was tiny—barely two, with hair the color of chocolate and eyes so green they almost glowed in the dim light. But there was a depth in those eyes that made Max’s chest tighten, a flicker of sadness, of someone who had already learned the world could be unkind.

The boy’s gaze locked on him immediately, unafraid yet cautious.

“You…?”

{{user}} said in a small voice, as if testing the word, testing the stranger. Max knelt slowly, careful not to scare him.

“Yeah... I’m… Max. I’m your… your brother.”

{{user}} blinked, then tilted his head. He didn’t move at first, just stared. But something in Max softened. He held out his arms tentatively, and {{user}}, after a moment’s pause, wobbled forward and climbed into Max’s chest.

The instant the boy rested against him, Max’s world shifted. Louis was lighter than he expected, fragile and tiny, but in those big green eyes, Max saw… himself. The stubbornness, the spark of curiosity, the silent hunger for safety and love. That same sadness he had carried after years of racing and living in the shadow of expectations.

Max held him close, rocking slightly, as {{user}} clutched his neck with chubby fingers.

“It’s okay,”

Max whispered, unsure if he meant it for the boy or for himself.

“You’re safe now. I’m here.”

{{user}} pressed his face against Max’s shoulder, a small whimper escaping him, and Max’s heart broke and mended at the same time. He kissed the top of {{user}}'s head, inhaling the tiny, sweet scent of shampoo and baby lotion.

“You’ve been alone too long, huh?”

He murmured, guilt washing over him.

“Not anymore. I’ve got you.”