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Back when they were still newlyweds, even before Amia was as much as a twinkle in their eyes, Max and Charles had still been working full time with their chosen careers, respectively.
What had happened on this day would remain engraved in Charles' mind for the rest of his life. Never in a million years would he think this would happen to his husband, to his love. A man who is true to his word, valiant, brave, bold, and so strong. Max was a man of all of these qualities, but there was one quality he had that rendered him weak, if you knew the right places to strike.
He was extremely stubborn.
Since before their blooming romance, he had known the Dutchman was extremely stubborn, sticking to his word, not ever backing down to someone's opinion or word. He had his mind set, his values secured. People were rarely able to change his mind when it came to well— anything.
Over the years, Charles had been able to break through the steel wall that Max had built up. He had been able to change his husband's mind a few times, but most of the time he hadn't and that was alright. He trusted Max to know what he was doing.
So you can imagine his surprise when he gets a page from the Emergency Department for a case they wouldn't disclose when he had called them. The nurse had just demanded he come down immediately.
Charles was confused though, because usually they give him descriptions of the cases so that he knows what he’s walking into, but they had given him nothing. So he wasn't rushing, for all they know he could've been in surgery, so he was taking his sweet time… well that was until he got a second page, and emergency, from Sebastian. That made him speed up.
Once he had reached the entrance to the ED, he could instantly hear many voices, especially a very agitated voice, a very familiar agitated voice. A voice he has heard for nearly his whole life.
His suspicions were confirmed when he approached the hoard of nurses and doctors, it felt as if his heart had stopped for a second. Because of course he knew that agitated voice.
It was Max.
“I said— fucking stop touching me!!!” Max growled, pushing a nurse away as she tried attaching the blood pressure cuff onto his left arm, making her stumble backwards into Charles, who luckily caught her before she could fall. He shot her an apologetic smile before approaching the bed where the entire emergency team seemed to be frozen in shock, unsure of what to do.
“Dr. Leclerc, thank god you're here, you need to prescribe something for this patient, he won't let us work on him and he’s being very aggressive. We can not work like this.” One of the registered nurses rambled, frustrated.
Charles shook his head, approaching Max and touching his hand gently. Max was yet to notice him, too busy shooting death glares at the medical team. “I said don't fucking—” Max started, but shut his mouth as soon as he saw Charles.
“There will be no need,” Charles spoke calmly, looking at the rest of the team. “Max, you have to let them do their jobs, you can't be pushing away the people who want to help. Alright? Let the nurses do their jobs.” He stated, letting go of Max and looking at the stunned faces of the nurses, before turning back to Max.
“Why are you here? And what the hell happened to your face?” Charles moved closer to the head of the bed, touching Max’s jaw and moving his head from side to side carefully to see the damage.
The Dutchman's left eye was bruised to hell, already turning a sickening black color and swollen shut. His lip was split and bleeding down his jaw, along with a few red marks around his neck that looked a lot like fingerprints that had been starting to bruise.
Max stayed silent, keeping his jaw firmly clenched with his eyes trained on Charles' face. Charles just sighed, ignoring the judgemental looks from the nurses because he was touching a patient's face that was covered with blood without gloves on. But this was Max. He knew Max was clean for gods sake.
Charles sighed, grabbing a pair of blue gloves along with some antiseptic to clean up the blood. “Can you give us a few moments, please?” He looked at the staff, who were still eyeing him as if he'd lost his mind. They did leave eventually, each of them warily eyeing the two of them.
The Monegasque closed the curtains, walking back to the Dutchman, before starting to clean his face, wordlessly.
“He hit me…” Max said, sadly, almost. Charles stayed silent, giving him a chance to continue talking.
“We— It was the meeting, the one I told you about and— and he got so angry and he just— exploded.” The Dutchman tacked on, looking down at his fingers.
Charles pressed a kiss to his head gently, not really knowing how to feel. “I understand you're frustrated, and upset and sad but Cherie… you can't go around pushing the staff around. They want to help you. And we need to run tests.”
“I don't need fucking tests , Charles. I am fine, I want to go home, please… He hit me once and that was my eye, I can see out of it and it's fine. Please just let me go home…” Max’s eyes were full of sadness, fear. The last thing Charles wanted was for him to be scared.
“ Please let me help you… let us help you…” Charles whispered, clutching the Dutchman's face gently. Max just shook his head. “I am fine, I promise, Schatje. I will even sign one of those letter things where you say I left against medical advice. Please.” Max pleaded, visibly shaking.
“Okay, just let me stitch your lip at least, please?” Charles said, knowing no matter what he was going to say, Max would refuse.
Max nodded and Charles let out a breath, leaving Max for a second to go see the nurses who had admitted him. “So uh can I please have the discharge papers for patient Verstappen in bed 3.” He breathed, trying to keep his breath under control. He wouldn’t cry. Not over this. Max is his own person. Max is okay. Max will be fine.
“But he was just—” She started but Charles shook his head and heldhis palm up to stop her.
“He wants to go home, he’s going to sign the leaving against medical advice papers.”
“But Doctor, with all due respect, that's so dangerous, he was beaten up he could have internal bleeding or head trauma or something undetected. We don't even know what happened to him.” She argued, shaking her head.
“Gloria—” Charles lets out a breath. He and Max have only been married for a few months, he hasn't even changed his name legally yet, no one but Sebastian and some of his closer colleagues know that he’s married to Max. But eventually he would have to tell someone and well— he guesses that’s now. Whether Max wants that or not.
“He’s my husband.” Charles breathes. “I would not be sending him home if I didn't know that he had someone there for him. My shift ends in the next hour, so I will be there and monitoring him. Trust me, I don't want him to go either, but I can’t force him to stay.”
Gloria gives him a skeptical look, but hands him the form nonetheless, Charles takes it and goes back to Max, handing it to him silently as he prepares the sutures.
Max signs them, Charles watches him struggle to even hold the pen out of the corner of his eye, but decides not to mention it. Grabbing the local anesthetic, he gently numbs Max’s lip, who just sits quietly and lets him. “Give it a few minutes, tell me what happened.” Charles says, disposing of the needle and sits down, holding Max’s hand with both of his.
“He was sitting across from me, he wanted to plead not guilty and I wanted him to plead guilty because the outcomes would have been better… theres so much evidence against him, it's so obvious what he did but if he pleads not guilty they're going to fucking put him in prison for life… but he didn't want to hear it and he just— he jumped over the table and grabbed me. I was— I was not prepared…” Max’s speech becomes slurred as the numbing starts doing its job. Charles nods, listening intently.
“He tried choking me but— but I managed to get him off, before he could do any damage, but he did manage to get my eye, he was scratching me too, that’s how my lip did this…”
Charles knows there's another piece of information he’s holding back; but he’s not going to push Max to tell him, he can tell Max is sore and tired.
“I’m sorry, Amour, I really am.” Charles kisses his knuckles gently, before putting on a clean set of gloves. “Tell me if this hurts at any point, okay? It shouldn't but just in case.” He says, starting on the sutures gently. Max sits still, quietly as Charles does what he’s supposed to.
Once done, he places a dressing over the sutures so that Max doesn't irritate it when he talks.
“There you go, I can knock off in about an hour or so, do you want to go lay in my office or Sebs until then? Then we can go home together.” He runs his fingers through his husbands blonde hair, Max just nods, knowing Charles’ wouldn't take no for an answer.
Charles had gotten the Dutchman settled on the couch in his office and made his way back to the wards where he did his final rounds for the night.
Once done, Charles says his goodbyes and gets Max into the car. The ride home is silent, the Dutchman had been uncharacteristically silent, making Charles a little worried. “Are you okay?” He asks silently, laying his hand on his husband’s thigh gently to get his attention. Max just groans in response.
“Head hurts…” He mumbles, shuffling in his seat to get a little more comfortable, his eyes stay closed. “Yeah I can imagine, I’ll give you some painkillers when we get home and then you can go to sleep, okay?”
Max just hums in response as Charles parks in their parking garage, before helping Max up to their shared apartment. The Dutchman makes his way to the bedroom and Charles stays back to prepare him some tea and his medication. He should've prescribed something stronger for Max while they were still there.
Once done, he makes his way back to their bedroom where Max has tucked himself in tightly, snuggled up with Charles’ pillow.
“Come on, Max, just 3 pills and you can go to sleep okay?” Charles sits down on the edge of the bed next to Max, who slowly sits up and diligently drinks his medication and tea. The Monegasque runs his fingers through his husband's hair gently as he does, before kissing his cheek. “Good night, Amour, I will come join you in a little okay?”
Max just nods, laying back down and is asleep nearly instantly.
***
Charles had gotten into bed no more than half an hour later, gently laying his index and middle fingers on Max’s neck to check his pulse before settling down himself. He lays on his side, eyeing his husband curiously.
“You really scared me today, Max…” he says softly, running his fingers through Max’s hair again, sighing. “I do not know what I would do if something more serious had to happen to you. I can not cope with you being sick, I need you."
Max stays asleep, he’s always been a deep sleeper, so Charles isn't worried about waking him up. The Monegasque sighs again, closing his eyes and falls into a light sleep, still worried about Max.
He can't explain it, but he has this feeling that something is going to happen, something is going to go wrong and it's bugging him. Max didn’t go for a head CT, or blood tests, or a decent examination. They weren't thorough enough, Max was adamant that he was fine. But Charles knows how serious head injuries can be, minor or major.
Charles is awoken by a sudden jolt on Max’s side of the bed, followed by a grunt, he can see the shadow of his husband's body, laying eerily still.
“Max?” Charles sits up with the lack of response, looking at his husband, concerned before turning on the lamp next to the bed.
He doesn't know how— or why— or even when, but suddenly, Max’s body goes rigid and then— he’s seizing.
He watches as his eyes roll back into his head, his hands balled up into fists and his eyes roll back into his head as his body suddenly starts violently shaking with tremors. Charles jumps into action nearly instantly, using his right hand to stabilize his head and neck, while his left snakes around his waist to try and keep him from falling off of the bed. He doesn't force Max to lay still, knowing that if he does that he can injure him more.
Panic settles deep into his bones, but he needs to stay calm. He’s dealt with this before. He knows what to do, how to deal with this. It’s what he’s trained for.
He keeps his eyes on Max and on the alarm clock, counting the minutes to see how long it lasts. It only ends up being 3 minutes and a few seconds long, but for Charles, it feels like an eternity.
Max’s body finally, finally relaxes as he goes limp, eyes closed. If he didn't just have a major seizure, Charles would think he’s just asleep. He puts his husband in the recovery position on his side, just in case. He also knows Max will be unconscious for a few minutes, his brain would have put itself in ‘recovery mode’ after that, so he takes that opportunity to call the first person he can think of, Sebastian.
The man answers on the third ring. “Charles? Everything okay?” Sebastian asks, because he knows the Monegasque man doesn't just call in the middle of the night for no reason, especially if he knows Sebastian is not on shift.
“It’s Max— It’s Max he— he—” Charles gasps for air, suddenly feeling much more panicked than he did before. He doesn't know what to do, because he knows that if he tells Sebastian that Max had a seizure, it would make it all real.
“Charles? Breathe, what happened with Max? Are you guys okay?” Seb sounds more awake now, Charles can hear shuffling in the background, he’s probably getting out of bed.
“Max had a seizure— we— I was just sleeping and he was as well and then I woke up and then he just— I don't know what to do, Seb!!” Charles cries, feeling the hot tears cascading down his face.
“Okay, okay Charles, did you count how long it was?”
“Y-Yeah… 3 minutes and 13 seconds…”
“Okay, good, did you put him in the recovery position?”
“Yeah…”
“Alright, well then you do know what to do, Charles. You deal with this everyday. Wait for him to wake up, do an assessment on him and then you will know where to go from there. You did nothing wrong, you know your work, okay? Don't doubt yourself just because this is Max.” Sebastian is calm and firm. Exactly what Charles needs right now. But Sebastian is right. He does know his work.
“Okay…” Charles says, his voice is small, tinny, shaky as it comes through the phone, he lays his hand on Max’s side gently. “Okay. I— I will call you with updates when he is awake.”
“You do that, just be calm, okay? I know your first instinct is to panic, but you are a Doctor, you know how the brain works. Trust your instinct. And if necessary take him to Pierre, he's working tonight. We will talk later, bye Charles.”
“B-Bye Seb…” Charles hangs up, crawling closer to Max. “Maxy? Come on Amour, time to wake up, yeah?” He says gently, feeling his pulse again. It's racing.
Max opens his eyes slowly, turning himself back onto his back. “What the fuck happened…” He looks around, confused. His eyes land on Charles in his disheveled state. “Maxy… thank god you're okay…” Charles chokes through his tears, pulling him into his arms gently.
“Charles?”
“You had a seizure, Max. You had a fucking seizure because you didn't want to have them help you at the ED and now this has happened. Do you know how dangerous a seizure is?! What if I wasn't here? What if it had been a long seizure and I wasn't here!”
Max stays silent, not sure how to reply to his husbands outburst, he knows Charles is right.
“Can we please go back to the hospital? So we know it is not anything serious? Please, Amour, let us help you…” Charles nearly whispers at the end, holding Max’s hand gently in both of his own. Max reluctantly nods, sitting up in bed slowly, with the help of Charles.
The Monegasque quickly packs some essentials in a bag and gets himself dressed before helping Max into some comfortable clothes as well before helping him downstairs to the car.
Eventually they find themselves back at the hospital, Max had been taken to scans as soon as they arrived, by special orders from Charles— they let him go in first.
As they wait for the results, Max lays asleep with a IV line running some pain medication for him— mind you, he did refuse anyone who wasn't Charles to put it in, but they managed eventually. It was all a little embarrassing for Charles, if he had to be honest. Having his husband (that he had yet to tell anyone about) throwing fits and nasty words to his staff members and fellow colleagues.
He watches the calm rise and fall of Max’s chest, the Dutchman definitely more comfortable than what he was before, the pain medication now doing its work.
A soft knock pulls him from his thoughts, and in comes in one of his good friends and colleagues, Dr. Pierre Gasly. They had grown up together and studied at the same university, except in their final year Pierre had gone and specialized in Neurosurgery. Them being placed in the same hospital for their practical experience was just pure coincidence and luck.
“Bonjour, Pierrot,” Charles smiles, pulling his best friend into a tight hug. “Hello, Charles.” Pierre replies, pulling back and looking at Max. “Will he be angry if I wake him up?”
Charles nods. “Yeah, but do it anyway, otherwise he will be mad we didn't. Is it bad?”
Pierre shakes his head. “No bleeding, nothing. He has to have just taken a big hit to the head. A minor concussion.”
“But he told me he didn't get hit in the head?”
“Exactly, that is why I want to wake him up and ask him, maybe he forgot?” Pierre shrugs, placing down the CT scans on the table and walking over to Max. “Max? Wake up mate.” Pierre says, firmly.
“Hm?” Max blinks open his eyes, looking around confused. “Pierre?”
“Yeah, Max, it’s me. Can I ask you a few questions?”
Max closes his eyes again, nodding sluggishly. Charles is surprised by how subdued Max is, but once again, he is currently pumped full of pain medication.
“Did you hit your head at any point in the altercation? Like at all? If it was him or you or if you bumped it against a desk?”
Max doesn’t move for a few seconds, Charles nearly thinks he’s asleep again, but eventually he does manage to mumble out a little ‘no’. Pierre hums in response but shoots Charles a look that says “I don't believe him”.
“Are you sure? Can you remember?”
Max stays silent, but this time Charles knows he isn't asleep, he can see him fidgeting with his fingers.
“Is Charles here? I don't want to open my eyes… bright lights…”
Charles opens his mouth to speak but is quickly shut down by Pierre. “No, he is outside in the waiting room. Can you please tell me what happened? I won’t tell him.”
Max is silent again for a long while.
And then he speaks.
And Charles has to forcefully shut his mouth, after he hears Max’s story.
“My Dad…” Max mumbles, turning his head to the side to see Pierre, Charles isn’t in his line of view. Pierre hums, knowing what Max’s dad is like.
“It was him… He came in and he was calm and we were actually having a nice conversation but— then I am not sure… He just got so violent, so angry. I am not sure why but yeah… he hit me, I— I do not really remember, I’ve learnt to tune it out when it happens.” Max’s voice shakes, Charles once again needs to restrain himself from jumping into Max’s arms and holding him tight and never letting him go.
Pierre nods. “Okay, Max. Well you have a minor concussion, we are not sure what caused the seizure but it was not a medical emergency, so we are going to let you go home tomorrow morning okay?” Pierre lays his hand on his shoulder gently, “Charles is here, Max. I am sorry this happened to you… but he heard everything.”
Max turns over slowly and looks over to the right, seeing his husband standing there with his arms crossed, tears brimming his blue-green eyes.
“Max…” Charles’ lip wobbles. “Why didn't you tell me anything?”
Max is silent, fidgeting with his fingers nervously again. He doesn't meet Charles’ gaze. Charles doesn't know where to go from here. He doesn't want to push Max to talk, or to do anything he doesn't want to.
His husband has always been like this, though. Has always been overprotective of his horrible father, despite everything he has been through, despite the verbal abuse, despite the physical abuse. He has always protected and defended this man. Charles will never tell him how much he hates it, how he loathes hearing Max’s defenses.
“I did not want you to see me as weak…” Max whispers, pure fear laced into his words. “If you see what he did… what he said and— I did not defend myself… y-you were going to think I am weak.”
Charles heart fucking shatters. Max is the strongest, and most confident person he knows. There is not a bone in his body that would ever label Max as ‘weak’.
“Amour…” Charles steps closer, laying his hand on Max’s shoulder gently, “I would have helped you, not judged you or put a negative label on you, I am your husband and I love you, I am not him.”
Pierre left at some point, but Charles will thank him later.
Max nods, it's only a little movement, but enough for Charles to see. He takes that as an opportunity to pull Max into his arms. “Please stop pushing us away, Max. We want to help you, I want to help you and be here for you. We’re married now, you're allowed to lean on me and ask for help. I am here for you, okay?”
Max nods again, leaning into his husband's arms. “Okay… yeah… okay…” He says, letting his tears fall freely. Charles doesn't comment on them. Max doesn’t cry, he has never been a crier.
“Okay, you go back to sleep and we can go home, alright?”
Max just nods silently again, obediently laying down and letting Charles cover him in the white sheets and blankets, before falling asleep nearly instantly.
But little did they know… the next morning they would have a conversation that would change the course of their lives forever. The conversation that would bring Amia into their lives no more than a year later.
Charles loves his family so much.