Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At first, Doc had watched the odd proceedings from the safety of his office window. Part of him didn’t care a lick what the kid was up to.

Yet, the other part of him felt compelled to check it all out—at least for a minute or two.

This half of Doc won out in the end, which is how he found himself standing in front of the courthouse, looking down upon the sweaty, pathetic figures sitting resolute on the pavement.

Arms crossed, he arched a brow. “What are you up to this fine, sweltering day?”

Lightning squinted up at Doc through his sunglasses. “What does it look like we’re doing?”

“I couldn’t even begin to guess.”

“We’re protesting!”

“Ah. And what exactly are you protesting?”

“Can’t you read the sign?” As if to answer his own question, Lightning glanced at his partner—a dozing Fillmore. “Hey, Fillmore! The sign!”

Only seconds off cue, Fillmore jolted, raising a large handpainted sign on a yardstick. “Better wifi, man. Better cell service. Stronger signals make for stronger conversation and internet searches.”

“See?” Lightning said.

“You’re protesting slow wifi?”

“Yep. Ramone left a while ago to get lunch. As you can see, he never came back.”

“Maybe he thought it was a lost cause.”

Fillmore butted in, shaking his head. “No cause is a lost one if it’s a good one, man.”

“All right, so the service is a little slow here.” Doc nodded. “I’ll give you that. I don’t think it’s worth burning to death over. It’s over a hundred degrees out here.”

When Lightning wiped the sweat off his brow, Doc couldn’t tell if the move was subconscious or not. “I know.”

“Just checking, rookie.”

“Sally said she would join us, but she hasn’t shown up yet, and Mater should be coming back with waters any minute now. Rain or shine, the protest must go on,” he declared, and Doc had just been celebrating a clear day without a headache. You celebrated too soon, Hud. “We’re not moving from this spot until we get everyone’s attention.”

“Why this spot?”

“This is where the signal is the weakest. Look.” Lightning whipped out his phone. “Look how many bars I don’t have.”

“I hate to break it to you, kid, but I don’t think you’re gonna attract many customers.”

“You came.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it, since I do seem to be the only one here?”

“I don’t know, what can you do about it?”

Doc offered a shrug. “Probably nothing. Your best bet is to put your sign away and switch service providers.”

“Sorry, Doc, the protest must go on.”

“No wonder Ramone ran away,” Doc mumbled as he retreated back to the blessed air-conditioning of his office.

In the distance, he heard Lightning call out something about wifi, followed by another one of Fillmore’s slogans.

Not an hour later, Lightning joined Doc, leaning close enough to the vent to get a faceful of cool air.

“How did the protest go?”

“We’re just taking a quick break, don’t worry.”

Doc never glanced up from his work. “I wasn’t.”

Their “quick break” lasted for the rest of the week, and if Lightning somehow forgot about his complaint with the wifi, Doc wasn’t going to be the one to remind him.

Chapter Text

The second he heard the thump in the night, Lightning’s eyes shot open. He blamed his overactive imagination for dragging him out of bed.

And that stupid movie he’d watched at Ramone and Flo’s.

“You seen this one yet?” Ramone had held up a DVD, some horror film Lightning had only ever heard of once or twice.

A shake of his head was all the permission Ramone needed to pop the movie and sink back into the couch.

As it turns out, Lightning had yet to see most horror films, a thing Ramone had recently made it his personal mission to fix.

“Dude, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen this one!”

He also hadn’t felt Death come quite so close before until he finished watching that one.

Most times, Lightning enjoyed their movie nights. This last one had been killer, though, and he was surprised he’d even been able to fall asleep that evening.

Exuding more courage than he felt, he tiptoed through the thick darkness and down the stairs. A weapon would’ve been helpful, but seeing as he found his hands empty, Lightning balled his fists and held them at the ready.

The lack of light shining from the kitchen didn’t fit with the noise floating from the room. So, Doc getting a midnight coffee was out, which meant it had to be burglars.

Or a murderer.

Another thump.

Yeah. It was most definitely a psychotic killer. With an axe.

And no face.

Who already knew his name, number, and blood type and was out to get him.

Yeah. That sounded right.

Sucking in a deep breath, Lightning rounded the corner, only to smack into something hard. The yelp that tore from his throat was never meant to escape, but he couldn’t very well hold it back and aim a punch at the killer’s head. Before his fist could make contact, however, a hand closed around it and squeezed.

“It’s two in the morning,” a familiar voice said—a distinctly non-murderous voice. “What on earth are you doing?”

Relief flooded through Lightning and he ceased his struggling.

“Doc!” he breathed. “Oh, thank goodness…”

The realization hit Doc’s face faster this time around. “Oh, right. Tonight was movie night, wasn’t it?” He shook his head. “Maybe you should stop watching those, kid. You can’t handle them.”

“What? That has nothing to do with it!” Lightning crossed his arms in defense, willing his racing heart to slow down. “And I can too handle them.”

Doc merely raised a brow. “Like you did last time?”

“Hey, breaking the window was an accident!”

“So you’ve said.”

“It was! And I paid for its replacement, didn’t I? Besides, I wouldn’t have had to come all the way down here if you were making so much noise in the kitchen! What were you doing anyway?”

In response, Doc held up the cup of coffee he’d miraculously managed to save from Lightning’s attack.

“Now,” Doc said, “I’d like you to take a moment and just imagine what might’ve happened if you had spilled this on me or yourself. This coffee is about 200 degrees, give or take, and you were mere seconds away from knocking it with your arm.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well…” Backing toward the stairs, Lightning flashed his best, most innocent smile. “Sounds like a good cup of coffee you have there so I’ll, uh, just leave you to it.”

He heard Doc hum as he retreated up the stairs.

And if he let Flo have her way and choose the movie next time—and if it just happened to be Steel Magnolias—who was Lightning to complain?

At least he got some long-awaited sleep that night.

Chapter Text

“Put a shirt on, rookie, we’re leaving.”

From his prime location next to the only air conditioner on the first floor, Lightning jolted, an abnormally sluggish movement, courtesy of the heat.

Making no effort to get up, his gaze drifted toward his mentor. “Where?”

Doc already had his cap in hand. “Flo’s.”

“What? Why?” The groan echoing in his chest put the finishing touches on his whine. “It’s, like, three hundred degrees out there!”

“It’s not that hot, kid.” Doc flashed him a wry grin. “If it were, we’d have been dead a long time ago. Now, come on.”

“Are you kidding? We’ll die before we can even cross the street!” Even as he protested, Lightning snatched the faded Aerosmith t-shirt off the floor, where it had sat in a crumpled heap ever since the blanket of heat had become too much to handle.

“Isn’t it hot enough in here already?” He pressed, following Doc into the kitchen. “If you open that door, who knows how much more heat you’ll let in.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing we won’t be sticking around long enough to find out.”

“At least tell me we’re taking a car.”

The lack of keys in Doc’s hand told Lightning all he needed to know.

“Seeing as I’m in the older demographic,” Doc began, securing his hat atop his head before heading out into the blazing sun, “it seems to me I should be the most affected by this heat. Yet, out of the two of us, you seem the one more likely to shrivel up and die.”

Lightning crossed his arms. “Hey, I burn very easily. You know that. Remember Vegas?”

“Well, you’re not gonna burn in the five minutes it’ll take us to walk down the street.” Here, Lightning noticed his eyes soften. “Trust me, kid. It’ll be better at Flo’s. ”

“You know, I think this is a sign that you need to invest in a more efficient cooling system. I mean, one-window air-conditioners on each floor?”

He could already feel his skin beginning to burn. Stupid pale complexion. Or maybe that was just his imagination… Sure looks red enough to me, he thought with a scowl as he crossed his arms.

Radiator Springs might as well have been a ghost town what with how many people weren’t on the sidewalk.

“What we have works just fine most days.”

“Yeah?” Lightning shot a quick glare at the sun. “What about on days like today?”

“On days like today,” Doc replied, approaching Flo’s like it was an oasis in the desert, “I already have an efficient cooling system, and it’s not the kind you can get at the store.”

With that, he pushed the door open. A blast of cold air greeted Lightning, followed by the sight of several plastic tubs and mini pools filled to the brim with icy water.

“What on earth…?”

Flo glanced up from her mixing bowl—a large thing of fruit punch, if Lightning wasn’t mistaken—and she shook her head. “‘Bout time you two showed up! Get those shoes off and help yourself to a pool before they’re all taken!”

It seemed to Lightning as if the entire town had assembled that afternoon for the sole purpose of dipping their feet in ice water and talking about the heatwave. Or, in the case of Sarge and Filmore, arguing about the heat.

“I’m tellin’ you, man, this is by far the hottest day America has ever seen!”

“Does the Dust Bowl mean nothing to you?”

Lightning had barely managed a smirk before he noticed Doc slipping off to the side. His brain was cut off from processing this movement—and that elusive expression on Doc’s face—by a wave of freezing water, made worse by the ice cubes bouncing off his head and shoulders.

Arms flying across his chest in a vain effort to banish the sudden chill, the name of his assailant filled the air before he’d even fully turned around.

“Mater! What was that for?”

The guilty party did nothing to hide the empty bucket in his hands, nor the grin on his face. “To cool ya off! Why’d you come here, anyway, if you don’t wanna get cooled off?”

Admitting to himself that the cold water had brought amazing relief to his burning skin was beside the point. With nothing now but war on the brain, Lightning snatched up the nearest full bucket, hell-bent on revenge. Though Mater had the advantage of a running headstart, Lightning had feral drive as his trump card and it sent him chasing after his friend.

Beyond the sound of Mater’s protests and half-hearted apologies, Lightning heard Doc’s quiet laughter. And if it just so happened that he timed it as to hit both his best friend and his mentor with the icy weapon in one fell swoop, well…

Wasn’t the point of going to Flo’s to get cooled off?

Chapter Text

“I feel like this is abuse.”

Lightning’s comment went largely ignored by his companions, both more interested in taking their turns than listening to him complain.

“Or kidnapping,” he added, slumping in his chair as Doc rolled a third time. “Or something illegal. Like a hostage situation. Yeah, that’s what this is. I could call the police, you know.”

The single red die boasted a six, beating out all three of Sarge’s black dice and causing Doc no small amount of satisfaction.

“Didn’t I tell you?” His mentor grinned. “Defense usually trumps offense. Now, get those soldiers off my land. And the sheriff’s on my side, rookie.”

The veteran muttered a string of curses, but removed his game pieces all the same, handing the black dice to Doc.

And with that single pass, Lightning’s heart sank.

Tugging at his hair, he watched as Doc first steepled his fingers, then surveyed the board.

“Ugh! But he takes forever! ” He shot Sarge a look that said this was somehow all his fault for handing over the dice in the first place before turning back to Doc. “Why can’t I just leave for, like, twenty minutes while you takeover half the game board?”

Doc didn’t even glance up. “You started this game, kid. You’re gonna finish it.”

“Oh, come on! I promise I’ll come back.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“Okay, well, this time, I will come back.”

His mentor didn’t even have the decency to at least look like he was considering it. “I let you out of here for even five minutes and I won’t see you until next Sunday. Now, when we started this game, you said you were in it to win it. Don’t tell me you’re backing down already.”

“I’m not backing down, and I’m still definitely gonna win, but I don’t see why I have to sit here while you take forever and a day to take your dang turn— ow! ”

The sting of the rule manual coming down on his hand was followed by a gruff reprimand from Sarge.

“Respect your elders, boy.”

Arms crossed in defeat, the best Lightning could do was fix a bored scowl on his face. At some point during the evening, the kitchen table had become a true battlefield, but not a very exciting one. More like a tedious, dull war in which two old men took their battle strategies as seriously as if they both commanded a legion of flesh and blood warriors.

World domination had never been so agonizing.

“Who’s idea was it to play Risk anyway?”

“Yours,” came the unanimous reply from two of his three opponents.

Still frowning, Lightning glanced at the third. Mater’s commentary had been the only thing keeping the game interesting. Fine time for him to fall asleep.

Which, Lightning supposed, was just as well, considering the only part of the map Mater still possessed was a tiny corner in southeast Australia.

And Lightning felt too guilty to challenge him just yet, even if doing so meant claiming the entire continent and finally getting a leg up in the game.

“You know we’re gonna have to wake him up, right? I mean,” Lightning added, “if Doc ever takes his turn. ”

“Don’t rush me, rookie.”

Throwing his hands up in defense, Lightning drawled, “Oh, I would never. ”

And so, time dragged on.

The clock struck midnight just as the game ended, with Doc claiming victory and Sarge going on and on about how he would’ve won if the die hadn’t rolled onto the floor.

Even though Lightning vowed never to endure the tedium of Risk again, they pulled it out of the closet the following week.

“All right, Mater,” Lightning said, flashing a grin as he shuffled the cards, “let’s see if you can actually keep your soldiers on the board this time.”

“Hey, I would’ve lasted longer if ya hadn’t stole Australia from me!” But the protest was as good-natured as always. “If settin’ up all these little pieces isn’t the doggone longest part of the whole game, I don’t know what is.”

Lightning risked a glance at Doc, who was setting his blue soldiers up with the utmost care. “I could think of longer parts…”

It was just as the four finished their preparations that Lightning slid a small timer onto the center of the table.

“What’s that for?” Sarge asked, eyes narrowing at the sight of the object.

“Five minutes, gentlemen,” Lightning explained with a smirk. “That’s all you get this time.”

“What?” Outrage burned red splotches into the retired soldier’s face. “But that’s not nearly enough time to form proper battle strategies!”

“You have an entire fifteen minutes to plan while everyone else takes their turn. That’s what you’re supposed to do, anyway.” Handing the dice to Mater, Lightning felt a burst of satisfaction inside his chest. “Start us off, Mater. Oh, and don’t forget, you’re on the clock.”

“Dad gum! Maybe I’ll actually be able to stay awake this time!”

As Mater took the first turn, Lightning caught Doc’s gaze. He half expected the seasoned Risk player to bristle at this new and unexpected rule.

But Doc only chuckled. “Smart move, kid.” He shook his head, eyes smiling. “Smart move.”

Chapter Text

It started the day Lizzie dropped by for a visit, a lazy Saturday afternoon that had Doc kicking up his feet in his recliner… until the elderly woman’s incessant conversation drove him into the kitchen for a coffee break.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Stanely took me to the Grand Canyon?”

“Was it exciting?” Lightning probed, his face betraying his lack of hope that any of Lizzie’s stories might be classified in the thriller genre.

“Come to think of it, it was pretty uneventful. It all started when…”

Lightning’s swallowed groan and “save me” expression went largely ignored as Doc politely excused himself—not that Lizzie stopped long enough to acknowledge his departure. Though the kid might be laid up on the couch with a broken leg, there wasn’t anything stopping him from picking up the crutches and hobbling after Doc.

He had just finished filling his cup—with no intention of returning to the living room until he’d drunk it all—when he heard it.

“‘Lax: not sufficiently strict, severe, or careful. Or, (of the limbs or muscles) relaxed.’”

At first, Doc figured he’d misheard. It was so obscure. So… random.

Yet, at the same time, so Lightning.

In all honesty, he had learned not to be surprised by the curveballs the kid threw his way.

“‘Lay: to put someone or something in a particular position, especially when it is done gently or carefully. Or, to put something down, especially on the floor, ready to be used.’” Lightning paused for breath—and to heave a sigh. “‘ Or, to spread something on something; to cover something with a layer of something.’”

But… this?

Too curious to keep away, Doc emerged from his sanctuary to find his suspicions had been correct. Lighting McQueen was giving an oral reading of the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

“‘Lay,’ but as an adjective this time, not a verb: ‘not having expert knowledge or professional qualifications in a particular’—Doc!”

Both Lizzie and the kid glanced up, one in relief, the other in surprise—almost as if she’d forgotten he had ever been there at all.

“You’re just in time. Come on and join us,” Lizzie beckoned.

Doc held out a hand and smiled. “Thanks, but I’ve read that one before.”

“Oh, it’s even better the second time! Sit down!” Only satisfied once Doc had reclaimed his recliner, she turned back to Lightning and nodded. “Go on, son.”

The kid’s glance held both an apology and a “serves you right for ditching me” as he cleared his throat to continue.

“‘Lay,’ but, like, the noun version this time, I guess: ‘a poem that was written to be sung, usually telling a story…’”

And that’s how Doc found himself listening to the complete L and M sections of the dictionary.

He almost fell asleep twice, but Lizzie graciously woke him so he wouldn’t miss a single definition.

“Miserable” was by far his favorite word. Somehow, it spoke to his soul.

The soon afternoon drew to a close, and along with it, the end of Lizzie’s visit.

“Now, you get better soon, you hear?”

Lightning grinned. “I certainly will.”

Doc saw their guest to the door, returning only to find the kid still flipping through the dictionary.

“You know,” he commented when he noticed Doc hovering nearby, “we didn’t even get to any of the good ones.”

“Kid,” and with a sigh, Doc shook his head, catching Lightning’s attention, “I only have one word: why?”

“What?”

“That was by far the most tedious afternoon of my life.”

Lightning just shrugged. “She wanted me to read something to her.”

“The dictionary? ”

“That’s the one she picked! What was I supposed to do, say no?”

The little ache in the back of his skull that had started small was quickly shaping up to be a full-blown migraine. “For the sake of my head, rookie, and for both our sanities, yes. And why did you have it upside down the whole time? Made my head spin just looking at you.”

Another shrug. “I had to keep it interesting somehow. If Mater’s the World’s Best Backwards Driver, then I’m definitely the World’s Best Upside Down Reader.”

“Well, after today,” Doc said, rubbing his temples, “I don’t doubt that. Next time, though, do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Hide the dictionary. Better yet, throw it out.”

A smirk tugged at Lightning’s lips. “But then, how will we know what a word means?”

“Look it up online. Isn’t that what those new iPhones are for, anyway? The way you’re always going on about them, you’d think they’re made for everything but calling someone.”

The kid seemed to perk up at this. “Does that mean you’re finally gonna get one?”

“No, but it sure as heck means I’m getting rid of the dictionary.”

Chapter Text

"I'm about to lose my freaking mind!"

In all honesty, it was difficult to hear the kid over the familiar wail of a newborn. The dark circles under Lightning's eyes and the tension that held his shoulders captive spoke far louder than words ever could.

Doc should've known something was up from the texts alone. For the past two days, Lightning had been MIA, only responding occasionally to Doc's texts and never answering his calls. Even the texts were abysmal, filled to the brim with misspellings, punctuation errors, and missing words. Unusual, to say the least.

The crying baby in his kitchen explained it all.

"Sally was absolutely losing it," the kid began before Doc could even open his mouth, "so I told her to take the weekend. She booked a room at the Wheel Well and I haven't heard from her since. She's probably in a coma, and honestly, I wish I were, too. So, if you could, like, knock me out or something, that would be amazing."

Doc huffed, brows furrowed, but his rising grin betrayed his humor.

"Here, let me take her."

"Be my guest!" Lightning thrust the child into his mentor's arms and Doc couldn't help but chuckle. It still boggled his mind that the kid who had come barreling into town all those years ago was the proud father of a beautiful baby girl.

A change of scenery didn't seem to help much as little Paula continued her wailing, not seeing the difference between Doc's arms and Lightning's.

Solely because neither were her mother's arms.

The real difference, however, came in the fact that, while Lightning had no doubt endured hours of incessant screaming, Doc had spent much of the weekend in blessed silence.

A fresh face and full deck of patience.

"Sally gave me these," the kid said, pulling two full bottles of milk out of his bag and slamming them on the counter, "for the lot of good they've done. Gosh, I wish she could just tell me what she wants! Then I could get this all figured out, no problem."

Doc nodded, a smirk twisting his lips. "You've gotta know the tricks, rookie."

Lightning crossed his arms. "Oh, and you do?"

"Just because I never married doesn't mean I don't have experience with kids. Just look how well you and I get along."

"Hey!" Though the kid had been going for a glower, his incoming yawn took all the power of the expression. "Look, if you could just give me, like, ten minutes, I'll mow your lawn for the rest of the year or something."

"In case you’ve forgotten, this is Arizona, kid. I don't have a lawn."

Lightning shrugged, already making his way to the stairs. "I said 'or something,' didn't I?"

Doc simply waved a dismissive hand, turning his attention to the baby in his arms, his mind wandering to the first time he had heard the girl's name.

"Doc, would you be mad if I named my kid after you?" The question had been posed so casually one afternoon. The two had been enjoying a game of chess on the porch and Lightning had pulled the question out of the blue.

"First off, why on earth would I be mad?” The kid has only offered a shrug in response. “And second, last I checked, Paul isn't a fitting name for a little girl."

"No, not that." Rook took Bishop. "I was thinking like Paula or something."

Queen took Knight. "Check. I'd hope I wouldn't have to tell you that's a dated name."

"Oh, come on, it's a beautiful name."

"Suit yourself, rookie, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Not three weeks later, Doc had gazed down upon the newborn with unspeakable joy.

"Doc, meet Paula." The twinkle in Lightning's eyes had made Doc's own orbs moisten with unshed emotion.

"Shh..." he soothed the distressed child, grateful, not for the first time, that Paula was born during the off-season.

He wouldn't tell the kid he'd gotten her to calm down after a measly five minutes. There was no need to hurt the kid's pride that way.

When Lightning jolted awake hours later, dashing out of his old room—the one  Doc had never had the heart to turn back into the guest room—and skidding to a stop in the living room.

"What? But... but how? How-How did you...?"

"I told you once, rookie," Doc replied with a grin, "you don't know all my tricks."

Lightning's gaze flitted to the clock as he carded a hand through his hair. "How long was I out?"

"Don't worry about it." Doc adjusted the sleeping bundle in his arms. "In fact, if I were you, I'd take advantage of this and go back to bed so you can shake that ghoulish look. Sleep-deprived isn’t a good look on you, son.”

"Haha, sure." But the kid failed to suppress a yawn. "Just... wake me up in ten minutes, okay?"

Doc felt his grin widen. "Sure thing, rookie. Sure thing..."

Chapter Text

It started with a package.

Doc wasn't home, the delivery man needed a signature, so Lightning stepped in.

He could have written his own name, but the package clearly marked Paul Hudson as the recipient. Forging Doc's signature just felt right at that moment.

After that, all packages received for Doc in the man's absence were signed for with a quick imitation of his signature.

And that just worked out.

Lightning couldn't pinpoint when he started signing other things for Doc, it just... happened.

Signing for packages and receipts was simply an efficient way of getting things done for Doc.

It wasn't Lightning's fault that some fans wanted an autograph from a man who didn't like life in the limelight.

And it wasn't Lightning's fault that the promotional photos he'd been signing that morning just happened to feature Doc, too.

What was the harm in scrawling Doc's name next to his own? Besides, it looked cooler that way.

Lightning just didn't expect the one thing that had become second nature in recent days to turn tail and bite him.

"What's this, rookie?"

The Rusteze team had been getting ready to pull out the day after the race in Talladega when a familiar eight-by-ten poster fell in front of Lightning's face.

He blinked, hand frozen on the trailer door handle. "Oh, don't you remember that promotional picture we took a while ago? Hey, where'd you find that anyway? I thought we didn't have any left..."

Doc nodded toward the ground. "Looked down and saw it on the pavement—"

"What? Someone used our picture to litter? Why on earth would someone get rid of something so—"

"Lightning." The warning in Doc's tone told him that shutting up now would definitely be a good idea. "What's this?"

His eyes followed Doc's pointed finger. "Uh... our signatures...?"

"That's right. It's funny, but I don't remember signing my name on any of these."

"Oh… you don't?" He let out a chuckle. "Maybe your memory's finally going, huh?"

"Or maybe," Doc countered, "I never actually signed them. What do you think?"

Lightning could sense the trap just waiting for him to make a wrong move, so he offered the most nonchalant shrug he could manage. "I think there are a lot of happy fans out there who have a signed photo of their hero."

"Unless they're actually looking at Lightning McQueen's signature part two, in which case there are a lot of unhappy fans out there who'll soon realize they've been fooled. Now, which scenario sounds right to you?"

"Uh… mine?"

Doc shook his head. "Nice try, kid. What I want to know is how you got it so darn close to the original. And by the original, I mean my signature."

Another shrug was the best Lightning could offer. "Practice, I guess?"

Doc's brows shot up. "Practice? How long have you been using my name, boy?"

"Wait, did I say practice? I meant… uh… Yeah, no, I've got nothing."

A sigh rattled Doc's frame and he massaged the bridge of his nose. "How long?"

"Oh, uh, since that one package."

"Which package?"

"That replacement piece you got for the Hornet."

"You mean that piece I got two months ago?"

Lightning shrugged. "Yeah...?"

Doc then muttered something about the Lord giving him strength… or something along those lines… before pointing once again at the photo. "From now on, my signature is my own. If I find out anyone else has been using it but me, there will be consequences. Here, I think you’d better keep this as a reminder."

With no choice but to accept the poster, Lightning watched Doc walk away for a long moment before calling out, "Hey! What kind of consequences?"

His mentor only waved a dismissive hand as he disappeared around a corner.

Chapter Text

In Loving Memory

3/23/23

He wasn’t there when it happened.

He didn’t even get the first phone call.

Looking back, he would always remember Mack hanging up just as he was pulling himself out from underneath the heavy weight of sleep in the passenger seat.

Lightning hadn’t known the guy for very long, but his new agent had just hired Mack to drive his trailer as he trained and prepared for the upcoming junior season. Hitting the big leagues would, of course, take time, yet he had the feeling that with his skills and Harv’s connections, they could get to the top pretty fast…

All that to say, he didn’t yet know this new member of the McQueen Team very well.

But the expression on the trucker’s face spoke volumes.

“The hospital called while you were sleeping, so I answered for you,” Mack began, tone so soft and gentle, it was giving Lightning the creeps. From what he’d seen so far, Mack was outgoing and boisterous. He wasn’t supposed to be so quiet like that. He wasn’t supposed to whisper like somebody just—

“What?” Lightning prompted as he tried to keep his nerves under control.

“It’s your mom, she…” Mack shook his head, his dark eyes practically pooling with sympathy. “She died.”

A sharp pang of shock shot through his chest and into his stomach, but it was gone before he could even finish swallowing his rising bile.

Gone. She’s…

As the seconds ticked by like molasses in wintertime, he realized he should’ve been feeling something more by now. Hurt. Loss. Anger. Pain. Even sadness.

In place of all these sat an empty void, a gaping hole of nothing.

“Geez,” Mack sighed, “I’m so sorry, Lightning.” Waging war against looking at his boss and keeping his eyes on the road, the trucker shook his head once more. “Is there anything I can do…? Anything at all?”

Nothing.

Why did he feel nothing?

Not a single prick of a tear or the rapid gait of a heart in turmoil.

Nothing, you idiot.

Do you even have a heart…?

When he managed to find his voice, Lightning said in a tone that sounded far too casual to be considered even remotely normal, “It’s all right. She’s been sick for a while now, so I saw it coming.”

Liar.

How many times had he told her she was going to get better? A vain attempt to convince her and himself of the fact.

I’ll be fine.

“Uh,” he stole a quick glance at Mack before settling his gaze on the traveling landscape ahead, “thanks, though.”

A numbness was making itself comfortable in his mind and chest, heightened by Mack’s not-so-subtlety raised brow.

I’ll be fine.

The trucker looked as though he had a few thoughts to add on that particular declaration, however, Lightning beat him to the punch, snatching up his cellphone.

“I’m gonna call Harv. Let him know that I’ll be needing time off from training to go home for a few days.”

If his soul was a color, right now it would be gray.

No. Gray implied a dreary sadness; an overcast heart.

White would be a closer fit.

Because white was just blank; a sterile void that never once evoked any sort of emotion from its observers.

White wasn’t even a true color. 

It was nothing.

Nothing.

Not even a shocked shiver or a disbelieving buzz rattled his frame.

Mack could have been simply commenting on the weather, what with the way his body was reacting.

Or wasn’t reacting.

“Do…” Mack cleared his throat. “Do you have any other family back home? Anyone who can, well, you know, help you through this time?”

Lightning tightened his grip on the phone. “No.” Breathe, idiot. “But it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Sure.

You’re a pro at handling things by yourself now, aren’t you, Mr. One Man Show?

Shut up. It’s fine.

I’ll be fine.

Because if fine felt anything like feeling nothing, then he was well on his way to retaining his emotional stability.

That implies that you have emotions to stabilize.

That implies you have the ability to feel…

And so far, he hadn’t shown himself any proof of either of those truths.

Maybe later he would let himself break down.

Maybe later he would cry his eyes out.

Later, when he could see her lifeless frame. When he could touch her cold skin, and slip his fingers into her limp hand.

Later. Maybe.

In that moment, though, he embraced the numbness as he dialed his agent’s number. It would make the call that much easier if he wasn’t choked up with emotion.

After all, grief was being an elusive pest, so why not use that to his advantage?

Why not put the nothing to good use?

Why not? Like you said, you’ll be fine, anyway.

Right…

You’ll be just fine…

Chapter Text

It took him a while to notice it. That small device Lightning pulled out every so often—and only for a few seconds at a time. The kid never talked about it and Doc never asked.

And that was fine. Honestly, it looked a bit odd, so Doc was perfectly fine not knowing.

Recently, however, he'd watched that little device take up more and more of the kid's time. It seemed almost an obsessive-compulsive thing, as if Lightning was desperately trying to keep something alive.

Turns out, he was.

Doc discovered that the hard way.

Coming home late from an out-of-town appointment, Doc was looking forward to relaxing in his recliner with a good book. It was his usual routine. It worked and it was predictable.

When Lightning had moved in last year, however, predictability had been thrown headfirst out the window.

This, perhaps, explained why Doc entered his house that evening to find dozens of candles lighting up the darkness. A strange sort of séance stood in the place of his usual peace and quiet. The soft music playing from somewhere in the background spoke of being buried in satin and laid in a bed of roses, and being sunk in the river at dawn—oddly chilling words set to a typical country rhythm.

Doc didn't even bother turning on the lights as he followed the trail of candles, all of different shapes, colors, and sizes. He couldn't hold back his sigh when he came to the living room.

It was just too typical a scene to behold.

"Trying to talk to ghosts?" he asked the limp figure sprawled over the couch.

It took Lightning a moment to reply, but when he did, his sigh rivaled Doc's in dramatics.

"I thought we already helped Mater establish that ghosts aren't real. Besides, even if they were," he went on, blowing out another sigh and flipping an arm over his face, "that'd be the least of my problems."

"All right. Enlighten me."

A beat, a huff, and then: "He's dead."

This got Doc's heart hopping, skipping more beats than a scratched-up CD.

"Who?" If it came out a little sharper than he'd intended, that was just as well. The kid couldn't say such things and then not explain himself. "Lightning, who's dead?"

Dear God, please don't let it be anyone in town.

Though, if it had been one of the Radiator Springs residents, he felt certain someone would've called and told him the news long before now...

"Phil."

Doc blinked, wracking his brain for any familiar ties to that particular name and finding none.

"Who?"

" Phil. My Tamagotchi," Lightning croaked before pointing a finger at the television. There, on the little bit of shelf space in front of the screen, stood two tall candles. In the middle of them lay a doily, and on top of that, a little round device.

Doc fought to keep from rolling his eyes.

Lord, give me strength. I used all of mine up on the paint incident…

"For those of us present who aren't exactly familiar with that word," Doc began, crossing his arms, "an explanation would be very welcome."

Lightning turned at this, glancing Doc's way for the first time that evening, his arm still hiding half of his face.

"You know, a tamagotchi. It's, like, a little pet you can take care of but without all the hassle of a real one. It's tiny pixels on a screen that form the shape of, well, a pet. I would show you Phil, but he's gone now..." With a groan, the kid rolled off the couch and dragged his body—walking half on his knees, half on his feet—over to the makeshift shrine. Using the utmost care, he lifted the device high enough for Doc to see. "Look at him. Look at this poor creature that I killed. What have I done…?"

Doc drew closer, gazing down upon the pixelated screen. "Wow. He even has a little gravestone and everything."

Lightning shook his head. "I can't believe he's gone. I've spent the last seven years taking care of him, trying to give him the best life possible, but I lose him for a few measly days and what does he do to me? He up and dies."

Seven years…? Doc didn’t spend any more time than necessary thinking about the implications of that statement.

"That's, uh… Well, that’s a real shame, rookie. I'm sure you can get a new one, though."

At this, Lightning snorted, placing the tamagotchi back on his pedestal. "Are you kidding me? After nearly a decade, I'm finally rid of him. Do you know how hard it was to take care of this little guy? Sure, I'm sad he's gone, but I'm not gonna plague myself with another one. Well, not yet, anyway. I still need time to move on and all that."

Placing a hand on the kid's shoulder, Doc said, "I'm sorry for your loss, I suppose, but I think it's time to clean up your funeral. I'm not a fan of trying to read by candlelight. Not with these old eyes. Where did you get all of these, anyway?"

Lightning shrugged. "Lizzie let me borrow them. And the doily, too."

"Ah. Well, why didn’t you invite her to join you? Mourning with friends, and all that..."

"Nah, I needed to be alone for this." The kid spoke as if he were in an actual funeral home and not in his living room knee-deep in an old woman's candle collection.

"Uh-huh. Or did you not want to tell her what all this was really for?"

"That too, I guess," the kid said, letting out a slightly embarrassed chuckle. "But mostly because no one knew him like I did. I mean, except maybe Mack..."

Oh, Lord. He could just picture the trucker getting into this sort of thing.

Doc glanced back down at the device. Whatever… this is.

"Right. Well, I've no doubt Phil will be very missed, but it's been a long day and right now, I'm missing my peaceful atmosphere. So, why don't you turn off Patty Loveless, blow out these candles, and put on a movie. I'll be over with some popcorn in a few minutes."

With a solemn nod, Lightning began extinguishing the candles as Doc retreated back into the kitchen. At some point, "How Can I Help You Say Goodbye?" got replaced by TV static, and eventually, Doc found himself situated beside the kid on the couch with dangerously buttery popcorn in hand.

"Next time," he ventured halfway through the film, "maybe you should invest your energy in a real pet. I’ve heard fish are relatively easy."

"Just because he wasn't a living, breathing thing doesn't mean Phil wasn't real."

"Last I checked, 'living and breathing' are just a couple of the requirements for being real. Maybe it's just me, but I don't think pixel pets fall into that category."

"I think it's definitely just you," Lightning replied with a smirk, then shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

Doc shook his head, but he couldn't stop the smile that was spreading across his face.

Nor did he want to. 

Chapter Text

“You know…” Lightning slumped down in his seat, eyes fixed on the empty road beyond the windshield. “I kind of thought this would be more interesting.”

“Nope,” the sheriff responded, his own gaze fixed on his crossword puzzle.

“Is it like this every night?”

“Sometimes I get a bit of excitement—speeders and such—but usually it’s pretty quiet. Hey!” the older man nudged the kid when he caught Lightning looking over at his puzzle. “Eyes on the road, son. It’s your turn, don’t forget.”

“But there’s literally nothing happening!”

“You signed up for this.”

Lightning crossed his arms. “I didn’t think it was going to be this boring.”

“What’s a five-letter word for cat?”

“Bored.”

Sheriff shot him a look and with great reluctance, Lightning turned his attention back to the road.

“In movies, stakeouts are cool and exciting.”

“This isn’t a stakeout,” Sheriff corrected without even a glance up.

“Well, what is it, then?”

“We’re just keepin’ an eye on things.”

“And we have to do it all the way out here?” Sitting out by the Radiator Springs welcome sign seemed overkill.

“Never failed me before,” Sheriff replied, flashing Lightning a grin. “Hasn’t been that long since you first came streaking down the road. If I hadn’t been sittin’ here, I might not’ve caught you in time. You could’ve done some serious damage to the town, son.”

“I did do damage, remember?”

“Not as much as you could’ve, which is why we’re sittin’ right here.”

“So…” Lightning asked after a few minutes. “Can I go home? I think it’s been long enough.”

“Long enough for what?”

Lightning shrugged. “Uh, for something to happen?”

The sheriff just shook his head. “Like I said, you signed up for this, son. You’re stuck here until—”

Speak of the devil and he will appear, people liked to say. In all his life, Lightning hadn’t seen any truer version of that statement until that little black sports car zoomed past, leaving the squad car to tremble in its wake.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed as Sheriff revved the engine. “I told you something was gonna happen!”

“Hold on to your hat!”

“I’m not wearing a—Whoa!” Lightning’s hands flew to the first solid object they could find, bracing himself as Sheriff swung the car out onto the road. “Hey, why isn’t he slowing down?”

Sheriff, to his credit, kept his eyes glued to the road. “Would you have slowed down?”

“Hey, I was going to slow down! But then you had to go and start shooting at me.”

“I never drew on you, son. Never have, never will.”

“Well,” Lightning mumbled, tightening his grip, “it sure sounded like you were shooting at me. That still doesn’t explain why this guy’s not—”

The sheriff slammed on the brakes so fast and hard, for a brief moment, Lightning was certain he was going to fly right through the windshield. Then, the glorious tug of the seatbelt pressed against his chest and his fears cooled.

That didn’t mean his heart stopped its incessant hammering, though.

The black car had screeched to a halt so suddenly, the most Lightning could do was sit in stupefied amazement at Sheriff’s sick reactionary skills. Two feet from the car’s bumper, Lightning considered it a miracle they were still alive.

“Stay here,” the sheriff said, climbing out of the vehicle before Lightning could protest.

Boring, he thought, muttering curses and slouching in his seat.

Sheriff must’ve stood at that car window for ages and ages because Lightning definitely felt ten times older by the time he returned.

When he did return, it was with the very reluctant—very irritated—driver of the little black sports car.

“Didn’t wanna pay his speeding ticket,” Sheriff explained. “So we’re just gonna have to make a stop at the station.”

“I shouldn’t have to pay a speeding ticket,” came the man’s protests from the backseat. “I was on the interstate! I was supposed to be going that fast!”

“You were supposed,” Sheriff shot back, “to be paying attention to the road signs.”

The man, who looked only a few years older than Lightning, let out a string of profanities that would’ve made any good mother blush.

“What kind of wack town is this? And who the hell are you?” The man furrowed his brows at Lightning and his clear lack of a police badge. “Are you some kind of psycho cop, too?”

“Nah,” Lightning replied with a wave. “I’m just hanging out, but I mean, come on. You’d seriously rather go to jail than pay a measly little old speeding ticket?”

“I’d rather be on my merry old way!” Their newfound prisoner shot back, arms crossed. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers about this!”

“Well,” Sheriff said, putting the car back into gear and beginning the short drive to the jailhouse, “if they’re any good, they’ll make you pay the damn thing and help you become a better human being.”

“I don’t believe this…”

Lightning turned to the sheriff then, jerking a thumb back at the man. “Was I this bad?”

“Well, now, it’s hard to say. You never swore at me, but this guy didn’t tear up the street. I will say this, though, you were a lot easier to bring in ‘cause you didn’t argue with me for anywhere near as long as he did.”

“Hey, I’m right here, you know,” the man bit out.

The sheriff continued on as if his prisoner were merely a fly buzzing in his ear. “Granted, you were passed out for most of it, so I suppose that helped a bit.”

“Really?” Lightning scrunched his nose. “I thought that would’ve made it harder.”

“I didn’t have to listen to you complain, so that made things easier.”

“What are you two even talking about?”

“Oh, just memories,” Lightning told the man with a smirk.

A smirk that died the moment they arrived at the station and Sheriff pulled a second badge out of his desk drawer.

“What’s this for?” Lightning asked when the sheriff handed him the silver star.

“I’m deputizing you.”

“What! Why?”

“I have to go get Mater to tow his car, then I’ll go back out on patrol. Someone has to stay here with the prisoner.”

“What? B-But I don’t want to be a deputy! I don’t even know how!”

“It’s easy, son. You just sit at this desk and keep an eye on him until I get back.”

“But… Wha… Well, how long’ll that take?”

“Oh,” the sheriff gave a lazy glance at his watch, “I should be back in a few hours or so.”

“A few hours! Wait! Can’t you get someone else?”

The sheriff flashed him a knowing grin. “Well, now, I could, but you volunteered to help me out tonight.”

With that, he left the station.

“Man,” Lightning sighed, burning the prisoner behind the bars with the dirtiest look he could muster, “I really wish you’d paid that ticket.”

And if the man flipped him off, Lightning couldn’t bring himself to judge, considering he’d just done the very same thing to the jailhouse door.

“Look, how long do I have to stay here, huh? I have places to be.”

Lightning shrugged. “Overnight, I guess. They’ll have to take you to court to figure out what to do about you and that speeding ticket.”

“What? I don’t have time for that!”

“You better make time, that’s all I’ve got to say.”

More cursing ensued before the man shook his head. “All right, what’s the judge like, then? Is he fair? Or is he as crazy as you two?”

“Hey, the only crazy one here is the guy who refuses to pay his speeding ticket. But, yeah… the judge is real hard and mean, you know the type? Tomorrow, you’ll be wishing you’d just made it easy on all of us and paid the stupid ticket.”

As if on some miserable cue, Lightning’s phone lit up and a Brad Paisley tune filled the small room.

“Hey, Doc,” he greeted, wishing the station wasn’t so tiny and dated so he’d have somewhere private to take the conversation.

“Hey, kid. Just calling to see how long you think you’ll be out tonight.”

“I’m stuck at the station. Sheriff made me a freaking deputy, so I can’t leave until he gets back.”

“Congratulations on your promotion. You got a prisoner?”

“Yeah. A stupid one. He didn’t want to pay his speeding ticket.”

A light huff echoed through the line. “Well, that’ll be fun tomorrow…”

“Yeah… But you go to bed. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“All right, rookie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya, Doc.”

The second he ended the call, the nosy man in the cell wanted to know who was on the phone.

“Oh, uh, just my dad.”

The man furrowed his brows. “You call your dad ‘Doc?’”

“He’s a doctor.” The prisoner only looked more confused by this. “It’s complicated, okay? And besides, I don’t have to explain anything to you. I don’t even have to talk to you.”

The man scoffed. “Whatever. Do I at least get my one phone call?”

“I don’t think the station phone’s working right now, actually…”

“Of course, it’s not. Well, can I use your phone?”

“Mine’s about to die.”

“Great. You know what? That’s just great. Because why the hell not?”

“Just your luck, I guess. How’d you even get out here, anyway? It’s kind of the middle of nowhere.”

“I’m with the press on my way to Cali to interview some famous new racer or something. McQueen, I think? I don’t know, I was a last-minute fill-in for another reporter who couldn’t make it.”

Lightning prided himself on keeping a cool exterior. Meanwhile, his insides were throwing an absolute fit.

Totally forgot about that one…

“Ah, well, I’m sure he’ll understand if you’re a day late. Maybe he’ll even cancel or something, or reschedule.”

The man just rolled his eyes as Lightning discretely texted his agent.

Can we reschedule that interview in California? Family illness. Thanks.

It wasn’t a lie, per se, because Doc was definitely going to have a headache after dealing with everything tomorrow in court.

The only bright side of the whole situation that night was, come morning, Sheriff forgot to un-deputize Lightning, a fact he would hold close to his chest until he could best use it to his advantage.

Or until the sheriff remembered again and took back the badge, which would be a shame because it didn’t take Lightning long to get used to seeing the little silver star every time he flipped open his wallet.

Chapter Text

At first, the billowing smoke off in the distance had looked cool. Clouds of black plastered against the clear blue sky. It was like something out of an art museum.

After extensive instruction—because Doc had made it clear that he was never to have his foot on the pedal and a phone in his hand at the same time—Lightning had Lizzy snap a picture using his phone. It was the kind of phenomenon that made you forget why it was even there in the first place.

The truth had slammed into Lightning with a vengeance as he’d slowed to a stop a few feet behind the cluster of stationary vehicles.

That had been twenty minutes ago, and in all that time, Lightning had only eased his foot off the pedal once.

Early on, an ambulance had rushed past using the highway shoulder, and not for the first time, Lightning wished they weren’t trapped in the middle lane.

On top of it all, his only companion wouldn’t stop talking.

“I think the reason Stanley put his roots down in Arizona is because he didn’t have to mow his grass. That man hated mowing grass…”

In favor of groaning aloud, Lightning banged his head on the top of the steering wheel.

“I’ll tell you,” Lizzy went on, knitting needles clinking together with practiced ease, “I tried planting some grass early on, and the sweet fool let it die before the summer’s end. Granted, our house looked better without it, but it sure would’ve been nice to step outside and sink your feet into some nice, soft grass. Of course, the grass I planted wasn’t all that soft to begin with… In the end, he took pity on our neighbor and mowed her grass, so either way, Stanley had to drag that God-awful mower across a lawn, even if it wasn’t his own. Hungry?”

The shoving of the cooler into his personal space woke Lightning from whatever bored stupor he’d been slipping into at that moment.

“Huh? Uh, no, I’m good.”

“You need to eat more, son. You’re too skinny.”

Lightning gave her a wry smile. “Thanks.”

But she pulled the cooler away nevertheless.

“How long have we been sitting here, anyway?”

Though it gave him no small amounts of pain, Lightning checked the clock. “Twenty-five min—”

“Because that trucker over there keeps looking my way.” Lizzy narrowed her eyes at the tanker next to them. “I think he’s interested.”

“I think he’s bored.” Lightning slumped down in his seat. “Because we’ve been sitting here forever.”

Shooting the driver one last glare, Lizzy gave her head a sharp nod. “Yeah, he’s definitely interested. He won’t stop looking at me out of the corner of his eye.” The whack to Lightning’s arm stung more than he would’ve thought. “Go out there and tell him to mind his own business.”

“What? I’m not gonna tell him that! You go tell him.”

“You’re the man!” She countered.

“Yeah, but you’re the one who cares! Look, it’s not that big of a deal. He’s just bored and he has nowhere else to look. Maybe he recognizes you or something, I don’t know.”

“Hon, I’ve never seen that man before in my life.”

“Okay.” Lightning threw his hands in the air. “Then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I remember the first time Stanley saw someone checking me out. I’d never seen him get so jealous, the dear…”

The groan was out of his mouth before he could stop it, though Lizzy didn’t seem to notice.

As the minutes dragged by like molasses in wintertime, Lightning found himself cursing his life choices. Though she never would’ve admitted to it, Lizzy had needed someone to drive her to an appointment out of town. It wasn’t any secret that she was getting on in years and Doc didn’t trust her to drive by herself beyond the town limits.

At first, Lightning thought he had been the only one available, but the more he glared at the clock, the more he realized he might just have been suckered into it.

“Hungry?”

And there was that cooler again. Filled to the brim with a variety of fruits and cheeses that Lightning had lost his appetite for halfway to their destination.

That had been hours ago, and now, they were on their way back.

“No thanks,” he said, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. “I’m good.”

“All right, then.” The click of her buckle brought him to attention. “Let’s see if anyone else wants some since you’re letting it all go to waste.”

“Me? Why don’t you eat some?” You’re the one who brought it.

“I don’t need it like you do. How do you big racers keep up your energy on only chips and soda? Now, come on!”

“Wait, where are you going?” She made no reply as she slipped out of the car. “Lizzy? Hey, we can’t just leave!” And yet, he found himself following her lead. “What if the traffic starts up again?”

“At this rate?” She shook her head, flashing him a pitying smile.

“You can’t just give random people food,” he whispered, as if the other drivers would overhear him. “Besides, it’s ours.”

“Well, you’re not eating it. Someone might as well profit. We’ll start with that impudent truck driver.”

The driver, it turned out, did not want a snack. He wanted all the snacks. Lizzie refused to give him any more than half—which was way more generous a gesture than Lightning could ever have anticipated. The rest of the treats went to various other drivers and it was only through sheer willpower that Lightning managed to snag a few pieces of fruit for himself.

As it would turn out, he actually was hungry… It only took giving away all our food to realize it, I guess.

“Now,” Lizzie said once they had finally returned to their car, “didn’t that feel nice? Giving food to all those poor people?”

“I’m pretty sure the guy in that last car has more money than we ever will. But yeah,” Lightning added, flashing a reluctant smile as he climbed into his seat, “it was pretty sweet to see the looks on those kids’ faces. But, can you imagine having six kids?”

“That reminds me of the time Stanley and I got to watch his nieces and nephews. Seven of them altogether! Of course, they weren’t his actual blood relatives, but they had all called him ‘Uncle Stanley’ for as long as they could remember… An adorable little bunch. Anyway, they were visiting from the great state of Texas and they hadn’t…”

Swallowing back his groan, Lightning slumped again in his seat, gaze lifted to the heavens in silent prayer. Please, let it end…

That’s when the idea struck.

Grinning, he slid open the sunroof and began to climb through it. It was more of a struggle than he’d anticipated, but soon, he was sitting on the roof of the car, his feet dangling through the small window.

“What on earth are you doing up there?” Lizzie shifted so as to better glare up at him. “Car roofs aren’t made for sitting, they’re made for keeping the rain off while you drive!”

Lightning couldn’t help but laugh. “They’re made to be used however you want. And, right now, I want to sit on the roof. Why don’t you come on up? You’ll love it.”

Lizzie gave him a look. “If you think I’m gonna climb all the way up there, you’re out of your mind.”

“Come on! Look, you can see the beginnings of the sunset.”

“Where?” Turning to glance out the front windshield gave her nothing for her efforts.

“You can’t see it from down there. Here.” Pulling up his legs until he was kneeling fully on the roof, Lightning extended his hand. “I’ll help you up. Just step on the armrests. Yeah, like that…”

The struggle lasted twice as long as Lightning’s own initial climb, and he almost called it quits, but it was all worth it in the end when Lizzie squinted, her featuring softening at the sight of the growing palette of colors on the distant horizon.

“See?” Lightning said with a smile. “There are too many cars to see it from down there.”

“Oh,” she sighed, “this reminds me of the first time Stanley and I kissed…”

Lightning had gotten so used to her ramblings that it took him a moment to realize she hadn’t expounded upon the statement. Shooting a slightly confused glance her way, he noticed she was simply staring into the distance.

A softer smile tugged at his lips. “Sort of reminds me of the first time I kissed Sally.” He gave her a light nudge. “Why don’t you tell me about you and Stanley?”

Her own smile was slightly devious. “Hon, that’s one story you don’t get to hear.”

“What? The one I actually want to hear is the only one I can’t? You know, that figures…”

“Some stories are too special to share.”

“Yeah… I guess that’s true.” Disappointing, but true.

“But, I will tell you this: looking on at you and Sally reminds me every day of the time I had with my precious Stanley.” She turned to him then, her soft brown eyes smiling. “I suppose I just want to thank you for that.”

Lightning found himself at a loss for words. In-depth, heart-to-heart conversations had never really been his thing, and he couldn’t remember ever having one with Lizzie before…

After a moment, his smile returned and he stuffed down the rising emotion. “Doc says you have, like, a crap ton of scrapbooks of you and Stanley. If you’re ever up for it, I’d like to see some of them.”

“Honey,” she said with a smile of her own, “there’s nothing I’d love more.”

Chapter Text

When Doc heard the door open somewhere upstairs, he just assumed it was the kid finally dragging himself out of bed.

Then, the fact that Lightning and Sally had moved into their own house three months ago struck him halfway through his next sip of coffee and he began to briefly entertain the idea of ghosts.

That's when the kid shuffled into the kitchen, hair a mess and face still foggy with sleep as he reached for the coffee pot.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Upstairs," came the dry answer.

Doc couldn’t help but smirk. "You don't say. All right, when did you get in?"

A shrug. Lightning collapsed into a chair and slumped against the table, clutching his mug as if it would soon reveal itself to be his personal lord and savior.

"Last night sometime. Maybe midnight?" Another shrug. "It feels so long ago, I can't really remember."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

Doc raised a brow. " Nothing brought you all the way over here at midnight?"

Honestly, those shrugs were beginning to grate on his nerves… 

"Where's Sally?" he asked when Lightning drank some of his coffee instead of replying.

"Probably out being productive somewhere. How am I supposed to know?"

"Son, she's your wife."

"Yeah, but it's not like I have her on a tracker. What am I supposed to do? Keep a record of her every move?"

Silence descended, coming in low and thick.

Doc folded his morning paper.

"What was the fight about?"

"Fight?" The kid scoffed. "What fight? Sally and I don't fight."

All it took was a bit of eye-narrowing on Doc's part and a couple seconds under his hard gaze for Lightning to crumble.

"I killed her plant," he mumbled.

"A plant started a fight?" Doc shook his head, adding under his breath, "and it's only been three months..."

"I was supposed to take care of it while she was out of town for the weekend, but I mean, it wasn't really my fault! I'm horrible at keeping things alive, and it was dying anyway. Every plant I've ever had to take care of, I killed. I even killed that freaking Tamagotchi!"

"Is that what you told her?"

"I made it clear before she left that I suck at watering plants, yeah. And she still expected me to keep it alive."

"I mean," Doc said, swallowing a sigh, "did you tell her it wasn't your fault?"

"Well, yeah... because it wasn't. Anyway, one thing led to another, and now she's accusing me of 'not trying hard enough in our relationship,' or something like that."

"I see. And what exactly did you accuse her of?"

"Uh..." Here, the kid chuckled, a hesitant, slightly chagrined sound. "I may or, uh, may not have, um... called her, uh, controlling..."

"And..." Doc probed, seeing the other half of that sentence scrawled across the kid's face plain as day.

" And... I sort of, maybe, told her she was overreacting and that she was ruining our relationship over a stupid plant."

"Ouch."

"Yeah..."

"Which plant was it?"

"Uh..." Lightning furrowed his brows. "I think she called it Archie, or something like that."

"Oh, Lightning..." Blowing out a sigh, Doc shook his head. "You chose the wrong plant to kill."

"I didn't choose to end its life! It just sort of... happened. Wait, what's so special about Archie?"

"She never told you?"

"If she had, do you really think I'd be asking you right now?"

"Watch it, son. Don't snap at me, I'm not your wife."

Doc could tell that comment hit home a little too hard, but that was just as well. Lightning needed a reality check, and who better to give it to him than Doc?

When the kid didn't reply, instead slumping further onto the table, his mentor filled the silence.

"That plant belonged to her mother."

The kid's cheeks went from flushed to sheet white in the span of mere seconds.

"When Sally decided to settle here, that plant was one of the only things she had sent from home."

"That..." The kid shook his head, folding his hands tightly together until the shade of his knuckles matched the pallor of his face. "That would've been a good thing to know before she left me in charge of it."

At this, Doc took a moment to study Lightning. Hard. And the kid withered under his gaze.

"I don't think your problem is that you killed the plant, rookie. Over the course of this conversation, you've turned everything back on her, do you realize that? Nothing has been your fault so far, and I think that's where you went wrong at the very start of all this. Am I off on that?"

Lightning slumped again, heaving a sigh. "No, I guess not... But I just felt like I had to defend myself when she started going off on me about..." At Doc's slightly raised brow, he withered once more. "I mean, I didn't take as good of her plant as I should've." He washed his hands over his face as the truth finally seemed to give him a good punch to the gut. "Doc, I killed her plant! I don't even know how I did it, but I did! And it was her mother's, too!"

"It doesn't matter that you didn't know it was her mom's until now. You should've put the same amount of care into it as you would've had you known simply because she asked you to—and because you love her."

"I guess you're right."

"You guess?"

"All right," Lightning mended, a slight grin gracing his features. "I know you're right. You always are."

"When you've lived to be my age, kid, you will be, too. Now, the question that remains is just this: what are you going to do about it?"

The kid started to shrug, then paused halfway, his smile widening.

"I think I have an idea." Jumping out of his seat, he clapped Doc on the shoulder. "Thanks, Doc. You know, for someone who's never been married, you give, like, really good relationship advice."

"Just because my left hand's never sported a ring doesn't mean I'm a stranger to romance. Like I said, it's all about experience."

"Oh, I'm definitely gonna have to come back and ask about that," Lightning said with a sly smirk, "but some other time. I'll see you later!"

As the door slammed, rattling the walls, Doc smiled. Somehow, he had a feeling everything was going to turn out just fine…

Chapter Text

The breakfast rush had finally begun to die down when Flo saw her girl slip through the front door looking like a hot mess. To the few lingering customers, Sally was the epitome of a well-put-together woman, but Flo’s trained gaze didn’t miss the fading redness around her eyes and the reapplied makeup. The unusual dip in her brows and the proverbial storm cloud hovering above her were also dead giveaways.

"I'll need you to hold down the fort for a minute, Tori," Flo said, tossing her apron to her latest hire.

When she joined Sally in the corner booth, she began her probing with a gentle smile.

"Just some coffee to start, hon?"

Sally shook her head—such a slight movement, Flo almost missed it. A forced smile followed shortly after. "Thanks, but I'm good."

"Can I get you some breakfast, then?"

"I'm actually not that hungry."

"Well," Flo said with a light chuckle, "for someone who's not hungry, you're sure staring down that menu like it’s your evil ex or something. What'd it ever do to you?"

"The menu didn't do anything..." came the mumbled response. "Just ignore me," Sally added after a moment, her reassuring smile looking anything but, "I'm fine."

"Sugar, let me tell you something. People who're 'fine' don't look like they just spent all morning crying their eyes out."

Sally started a bit at this, stealing a glance at her reflection in the metal napkin holder.

"Your makeup looks okay," Flo said with a knowing look. "You just can't get anything past me. I've known you too long."

Instead of the chagrined smile Flo had expected, Sally's lip quivered. She quickly clamped down on it and sucked in a breath. "We, um… We had a fight."

Flo's eyes softened. "Every couple fights. It’s not something you need to beat yourself up about."

"True… But this time feels different because… because I trusted him."

"All right, hon, spill it. You know you can't keep me in suspense like this."

That was all the permission Sally needed to launch into a five-minute rant session.

“I gave him one job. Just one, and he couldn’t even do it. He probably didn’t even try. And then, then, he had the nerve to call me controlling. I wouldn’t have to micromanage things if he would just step up and do his part. I mean, how hard is it to water a plant?”

The growing layer of emotion on her eyes was getting hard to ignore, as was her flushed cheeks. Without missing a beat, Flo stood up and slipped into Sally’s booth, wrapping her arms around the girl.

It would be a waste of breath to ask which plant.

Flo already knew.

“Oh, Sally, I’m so sorry. It was such a beautiful thing, too.”

The tears came quickly after that, and Flo shot Tori a grateful glance for shooing out all the remaining customers.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“He…” Sally trembled in her arms. “He killed it…”

“Honey, I know what those leaves meant to you, I really do, but why are you sitting here crying about the past? The past ain’t worth your precious tears. Or… could it be you’re crying about something else?”

A pause, a choked sob, and then: “… We never fought like that before…”

“Ah. I figured that might be it.” Flo ran her hand over Sally's hair. “So, he said you’re too controlling. What’d you tell him?”

“That,” Sally sniffled, “he’s not putting enough effort into our relationship—because he’s not. ”

“Now…” Flo kept her voice soothing even as she gave it a bit of a firmer edge. “Just last week, didn’t he drive all the way back out to Flagstaff because you left your phone at that store?”

Silence.

I thought so.

“And remember how he surprised you by getting y’all’s driveway paved because you didn’t like the dirt and sand? Maybe he didn’t take good care of your plant, but I’ve never seen a man put as much effort into his marriage as yours does—my own husband aside, of course.”

She could see the tips of Sally’s lips take on a slight curve. “Of course.”

“And, don’t take this personally, but did you ever think that maybe he’s not good at caring for plants? Some people just aren’t. I can't even begin to count all the plants and succulents my daddy killed in his lifetime. I'm sure he feels awful about it," she offered as Sally pulled away. "Considering Archie's history and everything."

"He doesn't..." And for the first time that morning, Flo noticed a hint of guilt painting Sally's face. "I never really told him…”

"'Radiator Springs: Where the Past Comes to Die.'" Flo shook her head. "Lizzie should put that on a bumper sticker. You and Doc could plaster them all over the back of your cars and match."

If Flo had expected Sally to reply, she was sorely disappointed, earning only a skeptical glare for her mutterings. Sighing, she placed a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Now, I ain't gonna tell you how to manage your marriage, but I will say that nothing good ever comes from keeping secrets from your spouse. If you need proof, just ask Ramone about Baton Rouge."

"Do I sense a story in there somewhere...?"

"Maybe some other time, but you'd have to ask him because I sure as heck ain't telling it." With a huff, Flo grinned. "I think letting Lightning know about Archie and how you feel is the first step. Everything else will fall into place after that. Trust me, hon. It's gonna be okay."

Nodding, Sally managed a smile. "Thanks, I... I needed this."

"Anytime, sugar. Anytime."

The front door chimed, signaling Sally's exit, and Flo breathed a sigh of relief.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Sally was smart and resourceful.

She was also too caring to stay mad for long.

They're gonna be just fine...

Chapter Text

“Did you think I didn't need you here to hold my hand, to dry my tears?

Did you even miss me through the years at all?”

~ “I Wonder,” Kellie Pickler

The house was quiet when she stepped in through the side door that evening. So quiet, she nearly jumped five feet in the air when she rounded the corner and saw Lightning sitting there at the kitchen table. His hands were folded neatly as he waited.

Quietly.

Sally had learned long ago from her many visits to Doc's that a house with Lightning McQueen in it was not often a quiet house.

Yet, there he was, staring at her with the most subdued expression she'd ever seen on him.

It only served to boost her feelings of guilt, which had been sitting heavy in her chest ever since Flo's.

Sally was certain an eternity had stretched by long and slow before Lightning's soft, "Hey."

"Hey," Sally returned. Something in the back of her mind pushed at her, nagging her to go to him. To sit down beside him, or across the table, at the very least.

Despite this, her feet remained firmly planted on the floor under the archway.

"I..." Lightning cleared his throat and Sally jerked her head up, not even realizing her gaze had drifted to the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't know about the plant, or... or what it meant to you. I should've taken better care of it anyway, even without knowing, but I..." He shook his head. "No. No, 'buts.' I neglected your mom's plant and I have no excuse. I'm so sorry, Sal."

It took Sally a moment to find her voice and she hated herself for it. "Who told you...?"

Lightning offered half a shrug. "Doc mentioned it briefly."

She nodded. Of course. Not that she resented Doc for that. How could she when he did the one thing she had never been able to bring herself to do?

A few more eternities of silence passed, then Lightning spoke up again.

"Did she... I mean, when did she die?"

Clutching at the strap of her tote bag, Sally braced herself. You're acting like a child. Just do it and get it all over with.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. You know I know that stuff can be painful, but—"

"She left."

Silence.

Sally took a breath. "I was in the fifth grade when I came home from school one day and all her stuff was gone." The next bout of silence felt even more suffocating than the last and she found she couldn't stand it. "I know, I should've told you. It was a stupid thing to tuck away, but I didn't really want to bring it back out and—"

"My dad left."

This time, the silence absolutely choked her. Breathing had never been so hard.

She wanted more than anything to go to him, to comfort him.

And still, her legs refused to budge.

"Why...?" Brows furrowed, Sally shook her head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Another shrug. "Same reason you never did, I guess. Because sometimes, I still wonder what it was about me that drove him away... and why he couldn't see anything in me worth sticking around for."

A quick flutter of her lashes shoved back the tears. You've already cried enough.

"And," Lightning continued, clearly trying to keep his own emotions at bay, "you... I... we, maybe, can't stop clinging to this fear that comes up sometimes: that families always break up sooner or later and we're wondering which one of us is going to give up first. Maybe that's just how I think, I don't know, but even if I can't keep your plants alive, I can promise you this: it's not gonna be me."

Sally barely registered the salty tears stinging her lips as she shook her head once more. "It's not going to be me either."

A soft chuckle filled the kitchen. "Well, then, I guess we both just agreed that we're stuck with each other for life."

"We already agreed that at the altar. I just... I don't think I ever truly let myself believe it until now."

Still smiling, albeit a bit sheepishly now, Lightning reached behind his chair and pulled out a very withered, yet hopefully perky looking Archie.

"Red's always been good with plants—like, really good—so I took it over to him. Turns out, Archie wasn't dead after all, not really. I think with a little help from the experts, I can get him back to where he was before you left."

The tears were flowing freely now, but she was laughing. "I thought I threw him away."

"Yeah... I kinda fished him back out. I mean, it's the only thing you have left from your mom, so I think that's worth a little dumpster diving."

At some point, she was able to rip her feet from their roots, slipping into the chair beside him.

"Do you have anything left from your dad...?"

The answer was a resounding no, and Lightning hadn't even opened his mouth yet.

"I don't even remember him, so it doesn't really matter as much—"

"It hurt you," Sally interrupted, "so it matters. Of course, it matters. But our life together matters more, which is why I got this."

Tugging the plant out of her bag, she placed it beside Archie, smiling as Lightning furrowed his brows.

"I got Ramone to help me dig up one of the Desert Willows by the waterfall, where we got engaged. Archie has always been a reminder of the past; this one will remind us of our future. Together."

It was Lightning's turn to blink back tears, and while he was a bit more successful than Sally, she couldn't bring herself to care.

Let the tears flow. After all, someone once told her that tears weren't all bad. In fact, the tears trailing down her cheeks as she melted into her husband's side, savoring the feeling of his arm around her, felt good.

"We're stupid, aren't we?" Lightning said through a chuckle.

"We're just..." Sally flashed him a grin. "New at this."

"That's a nicer way of putting it."

"I'm sorry, too," she said after a moment. "You put so much effort into our relationship. Sometimes, I'm too blinded by myself to see it."

"Hey, you've never been blinded by yourself. If anything, that’s me. You're the most selfless person I know."

Sally hummed, a soft smile gracing her lips. "You're sweet. Wrong, but sweet."

"Well, I try." His sly smirk earned him a light punch to the shoulder.

“You know, it can be a pretty small world sometimes,” Sally mused, sporting a smirk of her own. “What if your dad and my mom somehow found each other and, I don’t know, got together.”

“Ew, no! Come on!” He scrunched his face even as she laughed. “Why would you even say that? It’s in my head now. Gah! It’s in my head! Never say that again. Neh-ver.”

“Anything’s possible.”

“That’s it, you need to shut up, like, right now.”

He took her head in his hands and she melted into the kiss with another laugh.

Maybe they weren’t a perfect couple.

Maybe they would always have issues to work through.

But now she knew… She wasn’t going to be left behind again.

At last, she truly believed it.

And she knew Lightning did, too.

Chapter Text

He could feel the crash about to happen. Call it instinct or racer’s intuition, but Doc could feel it like static in the air, collecting into one giant ball of electricity about to explode.

“I’m slipping, I’m slipping!” Lightning’s voice crackled through the headset as Doc watched the #95 slide around the turn.

“Ease up on your speed and straighten your steering,” came Doc’s reply as he tried to filter the tension out of his tone. 

In the end, he might as well have kept his mouth shut for all the good it did.

Lightning had barely a second to react before his tail swung around and hit the #42 car, sending both into a spinning nightmare.

Doc watched it all in slow motion, his mind capturing every single horrific detail…

Lightning slamming into the wall.

Lightning ricocheting back out across the track and into the grass and dirt.

Cal fighting to get a handle on his vehicle.

Another car smashing into Cal from behind.

Cal flipping over.

And over.

And over—

A third car losing control and crunching Cal into the side of the wall.

The caution flag coming down for the fourth time that day as the wail of the on-track emergency vehicles filled the air.

“Lightning!” It was all Doc could do not to rip his headset off the second he caught his breath and dash out onto the green. “Talk to me, kid.”

“I’m… I’m all right.” Doc breathed a quick sigh of relief at the sweet sound of his kid’s voice. “A little knocked around, but all right. How’s Cal?”

Doc fought to keep his tone calm, and he thought he was actually doing a pretty good job of it. For now.

“I’m sure Cal will be fine. They’ve got a med team on him so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“What?” A dash of panic edged the kid’s voice. “Med team? It was that bad?”

It was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid: the kid jumping to conclusions and throwing himself into a panic over his friend.

Doc had the headset off and was climbing down out of the box the minute he saw Lightning struggle to escape from his vehicle. The kid ripped off his helmet as Doc’s lungs burned in his race to reach him before—

Despite the gaping distance he had yet to close between them, Doc knew the exact second Lightning’s gaze landed on the crash.

For a long moment, the kid seemed to have stopped breathing, or else that was just Doc’s failing eyesight getting the better of him. When Lightning’s chest finally decided to move again, it rose and fell in rapid, erratic pulses.

Then, it stopped altogether.

The kid had seen his fair share of crashes, Doc knew—heck, he’d been there for most of them—but as he pushed his legs harder across the torn-up grass and dirt, he could already tell this one was hitting Lightning different.

“Lightning,” he heaved, trying to both catch his own breath and somehow breathe for his kid. “I’m sure it looks worse than it actually is. That’s usually how it goes.”

Even as he said the words, Doc found himself struggling to believe them.

But he’d die before he let the kid know that, so he kept his tone steady. Firm.

Calm.

Lightning tried for a breath and failed, if the brief stutter of his chest was anything to go by.

“How do—?” The kid shook his head, eyes still fixed on the smoking chaos on the track. “You don’t know th—”

The sentence died with the last of air in the kid’s lung and Doc watched him sway.

“Lightning, look at me. You need to take a breath right now. ”

"I—I—I—" Fingers brushed Doc’s arm as the kid tried to maintain a grip on reality. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can. If you don't take a breath, you're gonna pass out, and that won't help Cal. So, breathe—”

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Brea—

With a gasp, Lightning made several attempts to fill his lungs without much success, and Doc could feel his own chest constrict. There wasn’t time to work on shoving down the panic anymore, not with the kid shuddering like a drowning cat.

At last, Lightning tore his gaze from the wreck, centering wide blue orbs on Doc.

“B-But did you see his car?” It was a wonder the kid could still get a word out. “How's he gonna walk away from that? And-And it was all my fault because I couldn't get the right traction and Cal's gonna be paralyzed for life because of me and he'll n-never race again and—”

“Lightning!” Standing there a little ways off the track and sweating buckets in the Atlanta heat, Doc planted his hands on the kid’s shoulders and squeezed—a last-ditch effort to ground him. “Cal is not paralyzed.”

“You don’t know that—!”

“And he's going to be fine —I promise you—but right now, you're not.”

The kid responded with even swallower gasps.

Come on, rookie…

“Focus on me. I know it's hard, but force yourself to take a deep breath. Slowly, like this…” Gently placing the kid's hand on his own chest, Doc took an overexaggerated breath. “And listen to me when I say, Cal is going to be fine.”

At first, it didn’t look like the kid was ever going to believe him. So, Doc said the words again. And again.

“Cal is going to be fine.”

And slowly, ever so slowly, Lightning’s chest settled into a rhythm. Deep breath in, shaky breath out.

“Cal is going to be fine.”

The kid nodded, catching himself before his gaze could drift back toward the crash.

“Are…” Swallowing, Lightning closed his eyes for a moment. “Are we on camera…? Please tell me they didn’t get all this.”

Doc’s heart jumped at the thought, only to be calmed when he saw the screens above them showing replay upon reply of the crash.

And not of Lightning McQueen having a panic attack in the middle of the green.

“No,” he breathed, giving the kid’s shoulder a squeeze. “No, rookie, we’re good. Come on, let’s go get you checked out. I didn’t like the way you smashed into that wall earlier.”

Lightning’s smirk resembled more of a grimace than anything. “Yeah, I don’t think my neck liked it either… And… Well, you’re sure Cal’s gonna be okay?”

Doc heaved a sigh, his eyes drifting to study the cloudless sky as he ushered his kid off the grass.

“Let me tell you something—something I couldn’t help but notice over the years. You suffer a lot less damage when you flip your car as opposed to smashing into the side of the wall or whipping around in a circle. It might look bad, but that’s all it is: looks. Cal’s gonna be fine, kid, you can count on it.”

A ghost of a smile stretched the kid’s lips and Doc felt the tension in his chest begin to ease.

The minor concussion that had taken over Lightning’s head prevented him from finishing the race, but that was just as well. Doc was sure the kid wouldn’t have been able to concentrate with an injured Cal on his mind.

The young Dinoco driver had gotten decently banged up, but like Doc had promised, Cal would be just fine after some recuperation in the hospital.

Doc stayed behind with the kid while the others traveled back home because Lightning insisted on hanging around town until his friend was discharged.

And not for the first time, Doc found himself reflecting on the stark difference between the self-centered kid who had crashed into his town that fateful November day and the one who sent himself into a panic attack on the chance that his fellow racer might be injured.

With a fond smile, Doc noted that character growth was a truly beautiful thing.

Chapter Text

The hotel lobby had a piano.

A baby grand, just small enough to fit in the corner of the decently sized room, yet just large enough to add a touch of grandeur to the atmosphere. It was one of the few old-fashioned Vegas hotels left; a product of a bygone era.

Doc’s era, as the kid liked to remind him with a smirk.

They had just finished checking out that morning when Lightning’s fingers danced across the keys, an almost unconscious motion, it seemed.

And it sounded for all the world to Doc like the first riff of Billy Joel’s “Piano Man.”

When Doc paused, the kid kept going, wheeling his suitcase toward the exit until Doc put a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded toward the piano. “Do that again.”

The kid furrowed his brows. “What?”

Doc wriggled his fingers in a poor imitation of performing a piece. “That riff you just did. Can you do it again?” Or was it just random luck?

“Oh! What, you mean this?” Lightning moved closer to the piano once again and ran his fingers over the keys.

Then, he stopped—right when Doc wanted him to keep going.

Because it was so good.

“I never knew you played.”

The kid shrugged. “That? That was nothing. Just a random little thing.”

“It was ‘Piano Man,’ that’s what it was,” Doc replied with a smile.

“I mean, I guess so.”

Just as Lightning went to reclaim his suitcase, Doc stopped him again. “Do you know the rest?”

The kid seemed to consider this for a moment, hesitation flickering on and off his face while he scanned the room.

“Uh, I don’t think we’re supposed to play it. It belongs to the hotel, not us, so…”

“So you do know it?”

“Yeah, but what if we get in trouble for…”

“Do you see a sign that says ‘Don’t Touch?’”

The smirk that brightened the kid’s face chased away some of the hesitation and he leaned closer to the keys, not quite committing to sitting down for a full performance just yet.

Soon, the first few bars of the song filled the air, albeit very quietly.

Doc felt his brows shoot up because the kid had skill.

When Lightning stopped halfway through with a shrug, mumbling something like “Well, you get the gist of it,” Doc encouraged him to continue.

At some point, the kid must’ve gotten tired of hovering, finally deciding to sit down and fully commit to the piece.

“That was wonderful,” Doc praised when the song came to an end.

Again, Lightning shrugged, joining Doc and the suitcases. “My mom taught me. She should’ve been a concert pianist, in my opinion. I haven’t played in forever, though, so I’m super rusty, but I always remember that one because it was one of her favorites.”

“Well,” Doc said with a smile, patting Lightning’s shoulder, “thanks for indulging me, rookie. You’re better at it than you think you are.”

Another shrug, but he could see the smile forming on the kid’s face and the slight blush coloring his cheeks.

“Yeah, well, you say that now only because you haven’t had the misfortune of hearing me try to pick my way through a classical piece. That song is one of the easier ones.”

“Didn’t look easy to me. Take it from someone who has no musical talent whatsoever: that was the best thing I think I’ve ever heard.”

The kid’s grin only grew. “Thanks, Doc.”

The keyboard Doc had Sally find for him online the next week gave the living room a nice touch, and the music that filled the house from then on never failed to bring a smile to Doc’s face.

Chapter Text

The music wasn't working.

And he had just upgraded his sound system, too.

Nothing can ever be easy, can it?

"Let's just see what's on the radio," she said as her fingers brushed the dial.

"But…” he spluttered, “But Bluetooth!"

Like he always told Doc, Bluetooth hadn’t been invented just so everyone could keep listening to the radio.

Sally simply smiled and shook her head. "I mean, if it's not working, it's not working. There's not much we can do about that."

It took every ounce of self-control Lightning possessed to keep from grumbling.

Because tonight was supposed to be perfect. How was he supposed to maintain the perfection of the evening if he couldn't play his absolutely perfect romantic playlist?

The ring burned in his pocket.

Right.

Just breathe.

Okay, so what if his playlist wasn't working? That wasn't the focal point of the night. No, that would be the restraunt and the ring.

And the question…

"The rain's coming down so hard," Sally noted after a few moments, "that I'm sure we wouldn't be able to concentrate on the music anyway, so it’s okay, Stickers."

"Always Miss Brightside," Lightning returned. "You know, that's one of the things I love about you."

"One of the things I love about you," she countered with a grin, "is that you always keep your eyes on the road."

He ripped his gaze from her lovely face just in time to stop from slipping over the yellow lines.

Eyes on the road. Eyes on the—

Sometimes, he wondered if they were even still on the road. Maybe they had ventured off into a ditch and didn’t know it…

That’s stupid. You’d definitely know it.

Thunder clapped overhead, reminding them that the thick sheets of rain weren't going to be letting up any time soon.

At Sally's request, he slowed to an almost painful pace for a state route, but he kept telling himself they weren't in a hurry.

Only… 

The ring continued to burn, begging him to ask the question.

Not here. Not in a stupid car.

Not when they had reservations at a luxury restaurant and tickets to a show afterward.

Sally glanced his way. "Do you think we should pull off for a minute and wait this out?"

Wait? Wait, we can't wait, we have reservations.

The car did a little shake; a brief jolt of uncertainty as Lightning fiddled with the pedal, fighting between the urge to go fast and the need to slow down.

Seconds later, the car rattled and tilted to the side with a sharp thump!

Lightning was quick to get a handle on the steering, cursing the offending rock or pothole and risking a peek at Sally.

She had her eyes fixed on the rain-soaked windshield with a vengeance.

"Don't worry, Sal," he said, going for casual reassurance, "we're almost there."

The slight tremor in her voice cut him to the core. "I can't even see the road. I think we need to pull off and—"

He felt the car begin to slip milliseconds before he heard the haunting screech of tires that were so desperately trying to compensate; to make the turn he hadn't known was coming up ahead.

"Lightning!"

Someone screamed, but he couldn't tell if it came from her or his own tightening throat.

Slowdownslowdownslowdown—

The breaks, though already working overtime, felt as though they were doing absolutely nothing to slow the vehicle.

A horrible crunch pierced the chaos.

That's when he felt the car dip, plunging its way into a roadside ditch.

Lightning barely made out the shape of a tree through the rain-smeared window half a second before he felt the impact.

Everything went silent, the booming crash! having stolen away every sound God’s green earth could provide.

Something told him he would black out, yet it wasn't until he slowly blinked open his eyes that he realized he'd been knocked out cold.

How long...?

The dust of the airbags filled his lungs and he soon found out that coughing hurt.

It was easy enough to stay calm while his brain loaded like Doc's old computer on bad wifi, trying to catch up with itself and whatever had just happened.

The broken windshield wipers were his first clue, followed by the fractured window and the pain shooting up his arms and wrists.

Slowdownslowdown—

"Lightning!"

Crash!

His heart chose that moment to jumpstart itself, his scrambling brain having pieced together enough of the puzzle.

The radio still worked to pump out a tune, but Lightning couldn't even register what was playing.

It was all just one big stream of white noise.

Or maybe that was his ears ringing…

Call.

Right, he had to… Well, in situations like this, you typically called someone.

Right...?

Because he was almost certain no emergency vehicles were going to pull him and Sally off the track—

Sally!

Turning his head was a bad idea, he knew it the instant pain spread through his muscles like wildfire.

Call. Call. Call—

Fingers fumbled for his phone, which had been discarded in the cupholder once it proved to be completely useless for playing serenade songs.

There was some sort of emergency number... Some specific thing you called when stuff like this happened.

Right…?

Think, idiot!

Come on, think!

You’re supposed to be better than this.

But he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was…

After all, if you crashed during a race, you didn't have to call anyone, they all simply came running.

Callcallcall—

His finger hovered over the number nine for a long moment, though he couldn't quite figure out why.

Then, he switched tracks and hit Doc's contact instead.

That's who he was supposed to call, he was sure of it.

And if it wasn't, well...

Doc was who he needed to call.

Chapter Text

“Hey Doc, have you ever wanted to have a dog?”

Doc didn’t even glance up from his evening paper, hoping this conversation wasn’t going where he thought it was going. “No.”

“Okay.” The kid was too casual as he took his empty dinner plate to the sink. “Good to know.”

Wait for it…

The inevitable “Can we get a dog?” hovered in the air, waiting for Lightning to give it a voice.

What the kid said instead was not something Doc was anticipating. Not even close.

“I’ll be sure to get rid of it, then.”

This time, he glanced up, the sports section all but forgotten. “Get rid of what, exactly?”

Lightning shrugged. “The dog. I mean, since you hate dogs and all that…”

“First off, I don’t hate dogs. You’re putting words in my mouth, kid. Second, not wanting a pet does not equal hating animals. Third, where is it?”

“Where’s what?” The feigned innocence was laid on hard and thick in typical Lightning fashion.

Oh, it’s been too long a day for these games.

“The dog. The one you clearly want to talk about or else you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Oh, yeah… That one.”

“Yes, that one. Where is he?”

“It’s a she.” Lightning leaned back against the counter.  “Are you sure you’re ready to see her?”

Doc made a show of closing up his paper.

“I mean, you’re not gonna shout at her or anything.”

“Lightning,” Doc said slowly, folding his hands on the table top. His patience had long since begun to dwindle. “Since when have I ever yelled at a dog?”

The kid just raised a brow.

Right.

“That was one time and it was a street dog trying to steal our food.” The brow was still up there—higher this time—so Doc sighed. “No, I promise not to shout at your dog.”

“My dog?” The kid perked up at that. “So is that a yes, we can keep it?”

“That was a slip of the tongue. I’m not committing until I get a look at the thing.”

Lightning moved toward the side door. “So, it’s not a no then.”

Doc made a show of rolling his eyes, a last ditch effort to hide the grin threatening to poke out. If he was ever going to win this thing, he couldn’t let on that he was the least bit amused by the kid’s excitement.

As he followed Lightning into the driveway, Doc furrowed his brows. “Please don’t tell me you’re keeping her in the garage with the Hornet and all the tools…”

“She wouldn’t dream of getting into any of your stuff, don’t worry. When you see her, you’ll understand. I’m telling you, Doc,” the kid added as he slid open the garage doors, “this is by far the laziest dog I’ve ever seen.”

It sounded an awful lot like the old hound Smokey used to keep on his porch… But Doc refused to let his mind wander. Wandering meant sentiment, and getting sentimental meant there was an increased chance he’d keep the dog.

And they were not keeping the dog.

He had to give the kid credit, though. The mutt was nestled in a neat little box stuffed with blankets. Doc didn’t let himself wonder where Lightning might’ve gotten the blankets. It was just easier that way.

Lightning knelt down beside the makeshift bed. “What breed do you think she is?”

“Looks to me like a mutt.” Doc got down on one knee, ignoring the way his old joints violently protested the movement. “The real question is, where on earth did she come from?”

After giving the dog a gentle pat on the head, the kid shrugged. “Mater and I found her just wandering around early this morning. He thinks one of the tourists left her. Probably because she doesn’t do anything. But she’s super cute, isn’t she?”

Cute wasn’t the first word that had come to Doc’s mind… However, he had to agree, the animal looked very lethargic.

“Why didn’t Mater take her home?”

“‘Cause I called dibs. See? She wouldn’t take up space or anything! She wouldn’t mess anything up or be in the way. She’d probably just lay here and chill all the time.”

“Sure, rookie, for a few more weeks at the most.” This time, Doc couldn’t help but chuckle at the kid’s expression. “Lightning, she’s pregnant.”

“What?” The kid slammed a hand to his forehead. “No wonder she’s so lazy! I just thought she was, like, really fat or something. Wait, does that mean we get to keep the puppies too?”

“Right now, we’re not keeping anything. Let’s just make sure she delivers the puppies safely, then we’ll talk about what to do with them all. You didn’t name her yet, did you?”

Lightning just shook his head.

“Good. You don’t get as attached if you don’t name it. Makes things easier.”

“Actually, on second thought, I think I’ll call her Tasha.”

Doc shot the kid a look. “Did you pull that out of thin air just now?”

“What?” Lightning scoffed. “No.”

“Sure.” Standing, Doc crossed his arms and gazed down at the poor animal. “Well, did you feed her?”

“Uh…”

“I figured as much. You need to find her something to eat for tonight, and tomorrow we’ll get her some proper dog food.”

“Okay, so, like… what do dogs eat? What can they eat?”

It was all Doc could do to keep from facepalming. Instead, he waved the kid over. “Come on. We’ll figure something out.”

And just like that, his evening of reading went down the drain.

In the long run, keeping the dog in the garage proved to be detrimental to Doc’s resolve, which slowly deteriorated as the days dragged by.

It didn’t help that Tasha reminded him of Smokey’s old dog, the one that would always curl around his feet after a hard day of practice.

It didn’t help that working in the garage meant getting used to Tasha being there.

And it certainly didn’t help that the kid seemed enthralled with the creature—and she barely did anything except lay there.

Wait till she can run and fetch, kid.

Thoughts like this were quickly banished from his mind.

Because they were not keeping the dog.

When the puppies arrived, everyone in town wanted one, which posed a challenge considering there were only three. In the end, Sheriff snagged one for the station, Mater called one because he helped find the mother, and Red took the last of the litter.

“So,” Lightning said one night after the puppy mania had finally drawn to a close, “do we have to keep her outside all the time, or…?”

And here we go again.

Doc stifled a sigh. “For the last time, we’re not keeping her.”

“Why not? Where else is she gonna go?”

“Why don’t you see if Sally wants her?” Avoid eye contact. He can’t turn you if you don’t look him in the eyes. Those sad, pleading blue eyes…

Doc turned the page, trying to keep his focus on his book and not his kid.

“If Sally wanted a dog, she would’ve been the first to grab a puppy. Come on, Doc, you know and I know you love Tasha. Just admit it! She’s grown on you.”

“No.”

“You can’t imagine that garage without her there anymore.”

He turned another page without having fully read both sides, lips pursed.

“You know, Mater says he’ll take care of her when we’re gone for races,” the kid carried on. “And if we don’t keep her, she’ll have nowhere else to go. You don’t want to be the one everyone blames for throwing a poor dog out into the cold, do you?”

“Since when did I become the bad guy in this situation?”

“So we can keep her?”

A long moment passed in which Doc opened his mouth and nothing came out.

This time, Lightning didn’t even try to give off the pretense of disinterest. He was waiting for the judge’s verdict on pins and needles.

Heaving a sigh, Doc turned another page, the actual contents of the book completely forgotten by now.

“She can’t sleep in the house,” he said at last. “She’ll shed all over the place.”

“Wait, wait—so is that a yes?”

“And I’m not going to get stuck being the one taking care of her all the time, I can tell you that right now. That’s all on you, got it?”

Lightning let out a loud whoop, pumping his fist in the air. “I promise, Doc, you won’t regret this!”

“I better not.” His gruff tone of voice, however, didn’t match the smile creeping across his face.

After all, it was good exercise to walk a dog. Doc took daily strolls around town anyway… Might as well do it with some silent company.

She made the kid happy, too.

And Doc had found he could never regret anything that made Lightning happy.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Swift, slow down, will you?”

Honestly, was it really that much of an unreasonable request? But Bobby rolled his eyes anyway, glancing back at Lightning with a smirk.

“Did I just hear Lightning McQueen the Speed Machine tell me to go slow?”

Yep. Definitely an unreasonable request. Way to go, Lightning.

Rolling his eyes right back at his friend, Lightning shook his head, pressing his foot down on the floor of the passenger side as if he could somehow slow the car for Bobby.

“You're coming into a residential area,” he explained. “And no one calls me that. At least, they better not…”

“Well, I didn’t see any speed limit signs.” With a smirk, Bobby added, “Since when do you care about residential areas.”

“Since we crashed in that fountain,” Cal added helpfully from the backseat.

Lightning couldn’t contain his wince. “I thought we both agreed never to speak of that again.”

“And I thought you weren’t Mr. Cautious,” Boddy said.

“Look, the fountain thing didn’t make me cautious, okay? "Fillmore's rabbits just had babies and they're hopping all over the place, so..."

Cal let out a gasp before lunging forward and grabbing Bobby's shoulder. "Dude, the last thing I want to hear is the sound of you running over a bunny."

"Look, I'm not gonna run over a bunny, okay? You're being paranoid. Also, why doesn't he have them in a pen or something."

Lightning just shrugged. "He claims they're free spirits and he doesn't want to 'tie them down,' or whatever. So just slow down a little."

"Fine."

Lightning watched as the needle sagged a mere five notches. "That's it? Seriously?"

"What do you want me to do? Go under the speed limit?"

"You're nowhere near the speed limit!"

"I'm gonna slow down once we get closer to town, trust me."

"Do you even know how far baby bunnies are capable of traveling when they put their minds to it?"

The look he got from Bobby was the epitome of unamused. "Bro, are you serious right now?"

"Just slow down or I'll have to..." The smirk came gradually as Lightning savored every second of the oncoming idea. "Or I'll have to write you a ticket—or better yet, take you into the station."

Bobby let out a laugh. "You can't arrest me for speeding. That's not how it works. Actually, you can't arrest me at all."

"Uh, yeah, I can."

The fact that Bobby now appeared to be slightly confused and a bit wary gave Lightning more satisfaction than he would ever care to admit. He loved his friends, sure, but that didn't mean they weren't complete idiots sometimes.

Says the pot to the kettle, right?

Oh, shut up.

"Yeah?" Bobby scoffed and even Cal was giving Lightning strange looks now. "With what?"

"With this."

In hindsight, he probably should've had his wallet out before he made his declaration, but how was he supposed to know that prying the thing from his back pocket would be such a hassle?

"Just, uh, give me a second..."

Bobby took his eyes off the road for a good five seconds or so to watch the struggle. Lightning supposed he’d have to cite his friend for that, too.

One last yank got the wallet free and he flipped it open to reveal a shining gold badge.

"Man," Cal breathed, "is that real?"

Bobby replied before Lightning had the chance. "Naw, man, it's not real. It has to be one of those things that are just for show... Right?"

"Nope, it's real, all right. You just happen to be driving with Radiator Springs' only deputy—and you just crossed the town line back there. We're in my territory now, which means I have no choice but to cite you for speeding."

"You've got to be kidding me."

Lightning nodded at the side of the road. "Pull over, please."

"I think you have to do what he says..." Cal whispered.

Though he bit out a curse, Bobby slowed to a stop. "Where'd you even get that, anyway? How'd you even get that?"

"The details aren't important." It only took one solid look from Bobby for Lightning to cave. "Sheriff deputized me temporarily a while ago, but he forgot to un-deputize me, unfortunately for you. I honestly don't think he remembers I still have this..."

"Great." Bobby rolled his eyes. "Just my luck."

Cal shrugged. "I mean, you were speeding."

"We always speed!"

"Dude, think of the bunnies."

"Right." Bobby turned back to Lightning. "Okay, so what now?"

A shrug was the best he had to offer. "I don't know. How fast were you going?"

"Man, you know how fast."

"Yeah, but it's part of the whole procedure."

Bobby pinched the bridge of his nose. "I shouldn't have to put up with this."

"Come on, how fast?"

"I don't know, like forty-five or something?"

Lightning worked up his best unimpressed stare.

"All right, fine! It was probably closer to fifty-five."

"Fifty-five in a thirty-five." Lightning clicked his tongue. "You know that's against the law, don't you?"

"Cut the dramatics, McQueen, and just give me the damn ticket."

"I'll need your license and vehicle registration." Lightning held out an expectant hand, making a show of examining the documents once they were in his possession. "This isn't a fake license, is it? Like one of those things that are just for show? It doesn't exactly look real."

"Lightning, I swear... "

"All right, all right! Here." As he handed everything back to Bobby, Cal raised an important question.

"Hey, how much do speeding tickets usually cost, anyway?"

"Uh, I think it varies..."

And Lightning wasn't overly fond of the smirk that had taken over Bobby's once sullen expression. "Sounds like you know from experience."

"What? No! Just… the ones I get are usually different depending on how fast I was going."

"Really?" Cal frowned. "That doesn't seem right."

"So you admit it! You admit you speed, too!"

Walked right into that one, I guess...

"Yes, okay, fine. I speed. Come on, you know I do."

"Or you wouldn't have landed us in that fountain."

"Knock it off, Cal," Lightning snapped, then made a note to apologize later. "What I don't do is speed in a sleepy little town where baby bunnies are hopping all over the street!"

"Bro, that's literally how you found this town in the first place: 'cause you were speeding!"

A hard glare was all Lightning could come up with as a retort, his brain scouring the depths for a good comeback.

Finally, he sucked in a breath and tapped his badge. "I'm letting you off with a warning this time. Don't make me change my mind. And don't make me have to write you up for animal endangerment."

The staring contest was short, yet intense, lasting only until Bobby sighed.

"Fine."

He started up the car in silence, proceeding to go five miles over the speed limit.

Lightning would allow that. For now.

Cal was the first to break the tension, a thing he had an unusual gift for, Lightning had noticed throughout the years.

"Since when does Fillmore have rabbits?"

"Since when are you a deputy?" Bobby added. "Sorry, I just can't get over that. Doesn’t seem right…"

"The rabbits,” Lightning began, “he picked up somewhere on the road home a few races ago, and I had to do a stakeout with Sheriff once, that's how I got the badge. Super boring. Not like how it is in the movies."

"Well, anyway," Bobby shrugged after a moment, "thanks for not giving me a ticket, I guess."

"Thanks for slowing down."

A ghost of a smirk danced across Bobby's lips. "You know I'm gonna speed out of here when I leave tomorrow night, though. Right?"

Another interjection from Cal had Lightning chuckling. "Just watch out for the bunnies, okay?"

They pulled into town at last. Lightning could've killed someone when they passed the sheriff and Bobby said, "Hey, don't forget Lightning still has that deputy badge!"

The look on Sheriff's face told Lightning he probably wouldn't have the star for that much longer.

Nudging Bobby in the ribs, he said, "Yeah, thanks a lot for that one."

The smug smile Bobby sported was too predictable. "Just being truthful. I wouldn't want to get pulled over again for something stupid like lying or going ten over the speed limit."

"It was more like twenty!”

"Guys, can you cut it out so we can go see the bunnies already?"

"They are really cute," Lightning admitted.

Bobby shrugged. "I mean, we might as well. I want to see the cause of all that trouble back there."

"Oh, okay." After a quick snap of his phone camera, Lightning turned the screen toward his friend. "There you go."

"That's a horrible picture of me. Delete that right now."

"Are you going to speed out of here when you leave?"

"... Maybe..."

"Hmm. Then maybe I'll keep it..."

"Fine, fine, all right!" But Bobby was laughing now. "I'll drive like Cal's grandma going out of here. I promise."

A single click of a button banished the image to the technological abyss.

“Does Doc know you have that badge?”

Ignoring Bobby, Lightning rolled his eyes one last time before leading the way to Fillmore’s place.

“I bet doesn’t, does he?” Another laugh. “Aw, bro, I would kill to see you give your old man a citation.”

“You know, you’re really making me regret letting you off with a warning, and I do still have that badge…”

“Stopping.” Bobby put his hands up in surrender. “I swear, I’m stopping now…”

Cal ended up leaving the next day with a bunny and Bobby kept his promise.

And though Lightning did his best to distract the sheriff, his wallet weighed considerably less than it had before Bobby had burned a hot streak into town.

Maybe that was just as well.

After all, it was harder to be a cop than he'd thought. And in the end, he wasn't sure the badge was worth all the hassle. Or the headache.

Chapter Text

"It's pitch black."

"I know."

"I could trip and die and you wouldn't even know."

"Oh, believe me, kid, I think I'd know."

"What?" Lightning's voice drifted into the kitchen from his place in the living room. "Because this is such a small house?"

"Because," Doc corrected as he felt around for the matchbox, "you're so overly dramatic. About everything."

"I am not."

"There. Proves my point."

"Wait, how did that prove your point? Doc? Doc, are you still in there?"

Grinning, Doc continued to rummage around the kitchen. Things would've been a lot easier if their only house flashlight hadn't been mysteriously out of batteries and the rest of them hadn't been stored outside in the garage.

"Next time you go exploring random places in the dead of night with Mater," Doc had said when he'd flicked on the flashlight earlier, only to be greeted with more darkness, "remember to replace the batteries."

"Well, I would've," Lightning had protested, "if we had any."

Of course.

Doc's hand landed on the matchbox at that moment and he sighed. Finally. Striking up a flame, he lit the candle and joined the kid in the living room. Lightning was right where Doc had left him, still sitting in front of the television as if it might pop back on at any second.

As if the worst storm Radiator Springs had seen in years hadn't knocked out all the power in town that night.

"Maybe it'll fix itself before the commercials are over." That had been the kid's hope at first, until the sheriff called asking if they were out of power, too.

"Wow." Though the kid's voice was crystal clear, Doc could barely see Lightning in the dim glow cast by their one and only candle. "I can see so much better now."

"Why didn't you hang onto all those candles from your little séance a few days ago?"

"It was a funeral, and you told me to give them back to Lizzie, remember?"

"I guess I did, at that. Well, we'll just have to make due with one candle until I find the others."

"And we can't go outside to get the other flashlights because...?" A clap of thunder answered the kid's question. "Right, well, that's it, I guess. We'll never see again."

"We'll be fine once we find the other candles. I have them stashed around here somewhere..."

"Or," Lightning said, his tone adopting a slyness Doc didn't know if he cared for, "we could sit down here in the dark and tell spooky stories."

"You know, I think I'll leave that to the sheriff."

"Oh, come on. I'm sure you're good at it, too."

With a huff, Doc relented and said, "All right. So, once there was this one girl who always wore a thick ribbon around her neck and nobody knew why—"

The kid groaned. "I've heard that one a million times. Everyone's heard that one."

"Good. Now I don't have to tell it. You hang tight, I'm going up to the attic to find more candles."

"Whoa, wait, the attic?" As Doc ascended the stairs, he heard the kid tumble off the couch and race after him. "There's an attic?"

"Houses have been known to have them," Doc replied.

"How come I've never been up there before?"

"Because it's a black hole for junk. And it's above my closet," Doc added, leading the kid into his room.

"Why couldn't it be above my closet...?" came Lightning's inevitable grumble.

"Hold this while I get the ladder."

To his credit, the kid guarded their only source of light with his life.

Getting into the attic was the easy part. Actually finding the candles would be an entirely other hill to climb.

"Somehow, it's worse than I remembered," Doc remarked, setting the candle down in the center of the small room where it would give off the most light.

"And I thought the garage was bad..." Lightning said, kneeling down to sift through the first box he laid eyes on. "Oh my gosh! You seriously have an original Atari?"

"Kid, everyone had an Atari whether they wanted one or not."

"I never had one. Are you good at it?"

Doc gave a shrug, never breaking from his search. "Sarge got it for me ages ago. I didn't play it much."

"Which is probably why it's up here, right? Wait, what are we looking for again? Candles?"

Doc briefly noted the way Lightning carefully set the console off to the side, as if intending to come back to it later.

"Wait, is this what I think it is...?"

And so their search went, with Doc dutifully looking for their only potential light source and Lightning finding some sort of forgotten treasure every fifteen seconds or so.

"Honestly, you should sell these vintage cameras. They'd be worth a fortune! Did you get any of the photos developed?"

"Does this old typewriter still work? I've only seen ones like this in the movies..."

"Would you consider me opening these letters an invasion of privacy?"

“Where did you put the photos? Can I see them?”

"Okay, but if I could get the typewriter to work, could I use it?"

"Doc, how many old Life magazines do you have? Can I read some of them?"

"Why on earth is this mini TV not down on the kitchen table? Do you know how much morning cable we've been missing out on? Breakfast will never be dull again!"

"Do you even have a record player for all of these...?"

"But, like, what if I find someone who could fix the typewriter? Then could I use it?"

“Please? Just one letter? It can’t be that personal, right? Wait, is it a love letter?”

"So, what happened when the ink dried to the inside of these pens? Did you have to change out the ink every time you used it? Or could it go for a few days without drying up?"

“We could totally set up our own mini casino with all these old poker chips!”

If Doc was being honest with himself, he had forgotten about most of the things the kid was digging up, but a trip down memory lane was never a bad thing. Not when it was these kinds of memories, at least.

"You know," the kid said after a few moments of silence, during which Lightning had paged through an old TV Guide, "if you'd just stored your racing things up here, too, I never would've found them."

"Good thing I didn't," Doc returned. "Besides, I couldn't very well fit the Hornet up here. You would've still found that sooner or later."

"True. Hey, any luck finding the candles?"

"Son, I think we've found just about everything but."

"Okay, but in all seriousness, do you have a record player for all these things?"

"If I did, do you think those records would be tucked away up here?"

"I don't know. There's a lot of good stuff you've been hiding up here that should definitely be downstairs."

"Such as?"

"Like, literally everything I've pulled out so far."

"We're not bringing the whole attic downstairs, rookie. It's up here for a reason."

"Those magazines shouldn't be up here."

"All right, I'll give you that one. The magazines can come down."

"That typewriter shouldn't be up here."

"It's broken."

"Because it's up here without anyone around to fix it!"

Doc shook his head. "I don't think anyone can fix that. "

The kid paused for a moment. "Well, it's aesthetically pleasing to look at. We should display it or something."

“Where?”

A shrug was all the reply he received.

Though Doc rolled his eyes, the two came out of the attic with several Life magazines, a busted typewriter, an Atari and two controllers, and a couple records—with the promise that one of them would find a vintage record player at some point.

And the small box of candles that had been tucked away right beside the attic door. Both Doc and Lightning shared a knowing glance at that revelation, silently vowing not to feel like complete idiots.

Days later, when the power lines were fixed at last, Lightning plugged in the Atari, which still worked, much to Doc's surprise.

“You know… it’s so boring to play by yourself.”

"One round," he'd promised the kid.

A promise he hadn't realized he'd broken until he glanced at the clock three hours into their gameplay.

"I thought you said you never played this!" Lightning groaned as Doc took home his umpteenth victory of the evening.

"I said I didn't play it much. Seems I'm just a natural."

"Or I just really suck at this."

"Oh, come on, you'll get the hang of it… eventually."

Lightning seemed to take Doc's smirk as a challenge, and if it was past midnight when they finally turned off the television, well…

What could Doc say? Maybe he was a little competitive. A little.

Just like his kid.

Chapter Text

It was Bobby who brought the announcer over, against his better judgment. But honestly, how was he supposed to know the guy would follow him?

I’m his defense, he did try to be discreet.

As he made his way to the door of the motorhome, he consoled himself with the fact that the guy probably would’ve found them out anyway. No one in their right mind would’ve been able to ignore the growing line.

“Sorry. Make way. Excuse me,” he said, cutting the line of drivers and pit crew alike, “friendship perks and all that. Come on, let me get past. There we go—Oh, hi.”

He wisely bit down on his tongue before the “you’re still here?” slipped out and got unwanted air time. The camera and microphone were in his face before he could even think about opening the door.

“We’re here outside the McQueen coach wondering what in the heck is going on,” the announcer said with a grin. “Bobby, what are all these people waiting for?”

A shrug would look better to all the fans watching than a sigh, and with that, Bobby beckoned both microphone and camera inside.

“Top secret stuff, reserved only for the absolute worst rain delays. Come on and see for yourself,” he added, fixing a smirk on his face as he retreated to the relative safety of the motorhome.

Lightning greeted him at the door like a bouncer at a club. “Ready for a rematch?”

“Are you kidding? No, man, I’m just here to watch this time.” He jerked a thumb at the announcer and cameraman. “They followed me.”

Without missing a beat, Lightning plastered his winning, made for TV smile on his face.

“Welcome to the Indianapolis Bar and Casino. Are you feeling lucky? Then you’ve come to the right place to test that luck against the experts on our original 1977 Atari.”

Bobby watched the announcer’s brows shoot up and a smile spread across his face. “An original Atari? Now, that’s really something. Is that what everyone’s waiting for out there?”

“That and the free drinks.” Lightning added, “Drivers excluded, since we still have half a race to finish whenever this rain lets up. But until then…” He made a sweeping motion toward the TV.

“And what’s the prize for winning against fan-favorite driver Lightning McQueen?”

“Oh no, you’re not playing against me.” Lightning let out a chuckle. “I said the experts.”

Bobby ducked past the TV to join Cal on the couch. Beads of sweat collected on the young racer’s forehead as he fought for his life against the Atari champion.

“What did I tell you about cameras, rookie?” Doc scolded Lightning without ever taking his focus off the screen.

“Oh, come on, Doc! Just think of all the fans watching who are bored out of their brains with this delay. The least we can do is give them something entertaining to watch.” Lightning glanced at the announcer. “You wanna try? Cal’s not going to last much longer.”

“Hey! I resent that.”

With a pat to his friend’s shoulder, Bobby shook his head. “Don’t take it personally, Cal. I’ve watched you lose three times already. He’s unbeatable.”

Cal just stared harder, visibly increasing his focus by ten.

“All this commotion,” Doc explained, “will ruin my concentration.”

“Oh,” Lightning waved a hand, “you’ll be fine. Sorry, Cal,” he added when the Dinoco driver threw down his controller.

“Watch out, that’s an antique.” Doc grabbed the stray controller and readied it for the next player. “Better luck next time, Cal.”

“Man, four times! Wait till I get my uncle in here. He’ll wipe the floor with you.”

“In his dreams, kid,” came Doc’s easy reply. “Now, who’s next?”

As Lightning welcomed in the next player, Cal stomped off, leaving Bobby chuckling in his wake.

“Hey, Doc,” Bobby whispered. “Think I can sneak in a quick game before the next guy comes in?”

“I thought you were just here to watch this time around.”

“What can I say? I must be feeling lucky or something.”

Though the older man appeared to consider it, Bobby saw the shake of his head coming a mile away. “No, I don’t think so, but there’s a perfectly good line forming outside. You can go stand in that.”

“What? You know there’s, like, twenty guys out there, right?”

“Twenty-one,” Doc corrected with a smirk, “if you really want to lose that badly.”

Grumbling, Bobby joined Lightning over by the door and waited until he was out of earshot of the microphone to mutter, “Sometimes, your dad’s the worst.”

“You know he has really good hearing, right?” Lightning returned, unable to hide a smirk of his own.

“Yeah, right.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“Okay, so did he hear that, then?” Just to make sure, Bobby glanced at Doc, searching for a reaction.

“Uh, probably not.”

“Thought so.”

It was shortly after that, when Bobby had just helped himself to a LaCroix, that Cal returned.

Followed by the King.

Cal grinned. “You’re not the only one who grew up with an Atari.”

Doc cracked a smile, breaking his concentration for a split second to spare the Weathers team a welcoming glance. “I didn’t grow up with an Atari, it was just bestowed upon me at a time when I couldn’t have wanted it less.”

“Then how are you so good? ” Bobby just couldn’t understand it.

“Yeah,” Lightning said, crossing his arms, “I’m still trying to figure that one out, too.”

“So,” Doc began as the latest competitor slunk away in defeat, “I heard a little rumor that you can dethrone me.”

“Well,” Strip chuckled, “I sure can try.”

“No!” Cal was at the man’s side in an instant, hovering as he took his place on the couch and picked up the controller. “Uncle Strip, you have to win! He beat me four times.”

Bobby flashed a good-natured grin. “Everyone beats you, Cal.”

“Uh…” He turned when Lightning nudged his shoulder. “Scratch that. Remember Super Mario Bros?”

Bobby’s grin disappeared faster than fans in the grandstands that afternoon. “That was a fluke and we all know it.”

“That was victory,” Cal corrected with a triumphant smirk.

An eye roll was the best reply Bobby could give.

Watching the two legends go head-to-head on some 70s game Bobby had never heard of was probably the most entertaining thing he’d seen all weekend. As the minutes ticked by, the entire motorhome seemed to hold its breath. Cal maintained his supportive position of hovering over his uncle’s shoulder and, at some point, Lightning had drifted over to the side of the couch and perched on the armrest beside Doc.

“Come on! You’ve won literally every single game so far! Knock him out, Doc!”

“Don’t let the enemy distract you!” Cal grasped Strip’s shoulder and held on for dear life. “Focus and you’ll bring home the gold!”

“That’d be a whole lot easier,” the King said, brows furrowed in concentration, “if you’d quit shaking me, son.”

“Oops.” Cal released his grip. “Sorry.”

The heavy hand of disappointment slammed down on them all when the rain delay came to an abrupt end without an Atari champion having been declared.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Cal moaned. “It seriously couldn’t have rained for just a little longer?”

Bobby raised a brow. “You seriously wanna be here all day?”

“Of course, not. But I do want to see who’s gonna win this thing.”

“So do I,” Doc interjected, shutting off the game. “Which means we all should’ve been out there five minutes ago.”

“No, not the race, the game.”

Lightning clapped his friend on the back. “Rematch. We’ll just have to make sure they have a rematch.”

“Right.” Cal nodded. “Right, and Doc’s going down.”

“In your dreams, Cal. In your dreams.”

As everyone disbursed, Bobby came up between the two racing legends. “I just want you guys to know that I was rooting for both of you the whole time. Nice game.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Strip replied with a laugh.

“Good to know you’re impartial,” Doc added, a ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips.

Bobby shrugged. “Well, I try.”

Laughter echoed through the coach and Bobby made a mental note to snag a front row seat at the rematch. Whenever that would be.

Until then, it was time to get his head back in the game and race.

Chapter Text

Smokey,

If you even get this far, you're a far better man than I am. In your shoes, I wouldn't even get past the sealed envelope. Fifty years. I have no excuse, so I'm not going to try to make one.

An apology is in order, that's for damn sure. You gave the world to me and didn't deserve my silence all these years. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, then you're still the better man. You always were.

You know me too well for me to pretend that's the only reason why I'm writing you after so long—though I do mean the apology with the utmost sincerity, let me make that clear right off the bat.

No, the real reason has a name: Lightning McQueen. Maybe you've already heard of him—if you still follow racing, you have, no doubt. He crashed into Radiator Springs—let's be honest, that's where I've been for most of the last five decades; a little town in the Arizonan hinterlands—and he turned my world upside down. He's young, very early twenties. Reckless, wild, confident yet not, if you know what I mean.

He reminds me a lot of myself back in the day. You'd like him, I think.

If you still follow racing, you'll already know what I'm about to tell you, and if you don't, find a television and turn it on on Sunday afternoon. The kid's amazing. I've never seen anything like him. A devil behind the wheel—and I can almost hear you saying that also reminds you of me.

I never saw myself stepping back into the world that was so quick to discard me, but here I am, the kid's crew chief and mentor. We took the Daytona 500 by a landslide. He told the press he couldn't have done it without me, which is a load of bull, but Lightning can say what he wants—he's made that clear several times.

I think this is going to be the year he wins his first Piston Cup. I can just feel it. Hope you're around to catch the playoffs this fall. The kid's going to make history again.

He already did once at that tie-breaker race. If you didn't see or somehow haven't heard about it yet, go ask someone. Or read the newspaper clipping I've enclosed with this letter. The short of it is: the kid's got more heart and compassion than I initially gave him credit for, and every day, he continues to surprise me.

If you've gotten this far... Thank you. I can't think of much else to say that will make up for all the years I spent acting as if you and everyone back home didn't exist, but I hope there's still time for me to try.

Sincerely,

Hud

Chapter Text

There was an eclipse coming that spring, and apparently, Radiator Springs was one of the few locations sitting smack dab in the path of totality.

Sarge had explained the whole thing to him in extensive detail.

And that was fine; it was cool. Lightning honestly hadn't given it much thought other than ordering a large pack of eclipse glasses online with Sally for the townsfolk.

It would be interesting, sure, but it would also be done and over with before the afternoon sun had even reached its zenith. These were the simple thoughts of the unsuspecting, and Lightning was perfectly happy to live with them…

Until the crowds began swarming in.

"Can't they all just, I don't know, go somewhere else?" Slumping against the window sill with a huff, Lightning glared out at the clusters of cars and people, all fighting for a spot on the road.

Doc came up beside him, his afternoon coffee in hand. "I'm sure the other places are just as crowded. Besides, it'll be good for the town. Look how much business everyone is getting already, and the eclipse doesn't even start until tomorrow."

"Yeah, but look," Lightning pressed. "The town's practically doubled in size already! The Cozy Cone's completely full. What happens when the Wheel Well fills up, too? Then where is everyone gonna go?"

Gesturing with his half-empty mug, Doc turned Lightning's attention to the open areas of desert off in the distance. "Doesn't look like that's stopping them."

Lightning resisted the urge to facepalm at the sight of the campers. It felt like a race weekend, except nobody was paying for a camping space and everyone was just parking it wherever they could.

And he wasn't in his car or in the pits, completely separated from it all.

Great…

"Hey," he said, shoving the growing crowds from his mind for a moment, "I think the best place to watch the eclipse tomorrow would be on the roof."

"Sure," Doc said and Lightning caught him hiding a smirk behind his mug, "you climb up there and watch, and I'll try to catch you when you end up falling off. No promises, though."

"Ha ha. I'm serious, wouldn't that be so cool?"

"Not when you fall. And by the time I made it up there," Doc went on, "the eclipse would be long gone.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d be fine.”

“Still, that’s not a theory I feel like testing. Now, where are you off to?"

Lightning had grabbed his jacket and was already halfway to the kitchen. "I'm gonna see what Mater's doing. He's the only one not busy with all the tourists."

"I thought you didn't like the crowds."

"Eh, I'm sure I'll live." Lightning flashed him a smile. "I'll be back later."

“Sunglasses might be a good idea. To fend against the sun and the crowds and such.” Doc tossed the suggestion out there, but Lightning just waved it off.

“I’m fine. Besides, I think I left them at Sally’s the other day, so… Yeah, maybe I’ll stop and pick them up on my way back.”

He had barely gone five steps down the driveway when someone from the crowd pointed at him. Maybe he should have at least grabbed his ball cap… But it felt too late to go back now, especially when Doc was no doubt sitting in the kitchen with an “I told you so” fresh on his tongue. So, Lightning gave the pointing fan a quick wave and picked up his pace.

If he could just disappear into one of the larger masses, he figured he'd be able to make it to Mater's place unaccosted.

"Excuse me, Mr. McQueen…" He had nearly made it past Flo's when the small voice stopped him. "Could I get your autograph?"

Putting on his best Victory Lane smile, Lightning granted the little girl's wish. Had she not been equipped with an already open notebook and pen, he might have just kept walking. But she was cute, probably no more than seven or eight years old, and she wore a red jersey with his number on it.

If anyone deserved a quick autograph, it was her.

"What's your name?" he asked, bending down to her level.

"Cassie," she replied, beaming.

"Well, Cassie, I hope you enjoy your stay in Radiator Springs. And I hope you have fun at the eclipse, too." With a wink, he returned her book and melted back into the crowd.

She definitely deserved an autograph. The group of teenagers pointing at him from across the street did not. Especially not after they chased him halfway down the road, pulled at his jacket, and then screamed in his ear.

Even if he'd wanted to give them an autograph, they were all making it physically impossible for him to even breathe long enough to pick up the pen one of the brunettes was shoving at him.

He heard a couple photos being taken and he hoped they were halfway decent at the very least—or that they would never see the light of day…

"Please, just one autograph!"

"I can't believe it’s actually him!"

"Lightning! I'm your biggest fan!"

"No, I'm your biggest fan!"

"Lightning, over here!"

"Oh my gosh, he's so hot, you guys!"

"Lightning, come back! Please, just one autograph!"

He did not come back and he never even touched the pen. Instead, Lightning fought his way out of the crazy herd and booked it back down the road. Forget Mater, he needed to go home.

The girls followed him as best they could, but he lost them somewhere near Casa Della Tires, much to his temporary relief. The second he dashed up his drive and slammed the kitchen door behind him, he stole a brief moment to thank his lucky stars.

Then, he locked the door and began pulling all the curtains shut.

"That was fast," Doc said from his chair in the living room. "Did you two even talk to each other, or did you just give him a quick wave?"

But Lightning didn't have time to respond as he made a dash to lock the front door and pull the blinds.

"They're all crazy!" he exclaimed once he'd finished, collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh. "Doc, whatever you do, don't answer the door for anybody you don't know."

"Well," Doc began, stretching out of his chair, "I don’t think I’ve heard anyone tell me that since I was, oh… about ten years old." Lightning watched as he meandered over to the large front window and took a peek out the curtains. "The fangirls get you again?"

"It’s way different from the tracks. I never realized how important the security teams are until now."

"Son, you're getting to be a regular Elvis Presley these days."

"Yeah, right. ” Better not to let on that he didn’t know the first thing about the King of Rock and Roll. “At least he could probably leave his own home whenever he wanted to."

This earned him a chuckle from Doc. "The fans would actually line the gates at Graceland to the point that he couldn't even get his car down the drive. Sort of like you right now."

When Doc gave a beckoning nod of his head, Lightning joined him at the window.

Only to find that same herd of teenage girls standing on the sidewalk… their group having nearly doubled in size.

"Great. Just great. Now I'll never be able to get out of here!"

Doc raised a brow at him. "Do you really want to?"

"Well, it was getting kind of boring around here just watching people walk by and waiting for the eclipse tomorrow."

"I thought you weren't even excited about it."

"Yeah, but like, it's something to look forward to, you know?" Lightning gave the girls a scowl before tugging the curtains closed. “Now we’re gonna miss the whole thing because of them. I think one even scratched my neck…”

"I was wondering where that came from. Well, I'm sure they'll lose interest soon enough." Though Lightning shot him a look, Doc didn't seem to be the least bit fazed as he made his way back toward the TV. "In the meantime, I think you said something over dinner last night about beating my new high score…?"

As distracting and entertaining as the atari was, Lightning found his mind wandering more often than not to the fans outside.

“I swear,” he told Doc later before bed, “if they attack me while I’m trying to watch that eclipse tomorrow…”

“We’ll figure it out, rookie.” And there was a slight twinkle in Doc’s eyes as he took one last peek out the curtains. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

“Hey, maybe you can go out and distract them all while I watch. You’re famous, too.”

“Yes, because that certainly sounds fair.”

“Maybe we can, like, take turns or something…? Ugh! I’ll never be able to go outside and breathe fresh air again!”

“Like I said…” Doc’s hand on his shoulder lended Lightning just the right amount of calm. “We’ll figure something out.”

Chapter Text

Doc heard the door slam, but he kept his attention fixed on the crackling television. Of all the days to have a bad signal, it just had to be when he was trying to watch the news about the eclipse.

Figures.

"So..." The kid's voice filtered in from the kitchen and Doc heard him kick his shoes off against the wall. "Remember that one time you told me not to forge your signature again...?"

"Ever again," Doc corrected, still fiddling with the antenna. For as many times as Lightning had tried to convince him to get an updated TV, he couldn't bring himself to cave.

This one's classic. If the kid wants a clear picture, he can use the one in the basement.

"Right. Ever again. Yeah, so… How serious were you about that? And, like, you mentioned consequences, but what kind? Like, something really bad? Or something that's more like, 'Oh, that's it? Well, that wasn't so bad.'"

Taking a breath and steeling himself for whatever he might find, Doc finally glanced up, turning his attention to his kid standing in the kitchen doorway.

You've got to be kidding me…

"Because," Lightning went on, "I think I might have signed a few autographs as you."

Decked out in Doc's Fabulous 51 crew chief jacket, his hat, and one of his button-up shirts, the kid looked like a younger—blonder—version of the Hudson Hornet himself.

"I thought you were going out to the garage."

"Yeah, to find your hat. You left it in there the other day," Lightning clarified. "Then I tried to take a walk to Mater's without being seen. You know, sort of incognito? But I guess I picked the wrong disguise because you're famous, too. Only, this time, it wasn't the teenagers that got me, it was the adults. Like, the really old adults—"

"Watch it, Hot Rod."

"Right, sorry, anyway, they asked for a few autographs, so..." The kid shrugged. "Long story short, I had to come back because I was attracting too much attention."

Doc raised a brow. "And they never realized you weren't me?"

"I mean," Lightning said with a small smirk, "it's a pretty good disguise, if I do say so myself."

"Kid, you look nothing like me."

"Like I said, they were old; they probably couldn’t even see me that well." At Doc's pointed look, Lightning amended, "I mean, old-er."

"And are those my reading glasses?"

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't think you'd be using them until later. Anyway, it just goes to show that neither of us can go outside while these crowds are here, which means neither of us will get even a glimpse of that stupid eclipse!"

Shedding his—Doc's—hat, jacket, and glasses onto the kitchen table, Lightning wandered into the living room and collapsed into his new beanbag chair. Something Mater had given him for Christmas, which meant Doc couldn't ever get rid of it. Which meant he was doomed to listen to that awful crunching and grinding sound whenever the kid sat in it.

I’m sure you’ll live.

"How many autographs did you give out?"

Lightning shrugged. "Maybe half a dozen? Does that still count as forgery?"

"Well…" Doc gave a soft sigh. "I'll let it slide this time. Besides, if I can get the cable to work, we won't have to go outside. We can watch the eclipse along with our friends from 12News."

"Doc," Lightning whined. "That's second-hand eclipse footage! We have to look at it with our own eyes! Besides, we can't let these cool little glasses go to waste." As if to prove his point, Lightning pulled out his pair—the one's he'd been carrying around in his pocket since yesterday—and put them on his face. "Believe it or not, I can actually see through these better than I could through your reading glasses."

Doc chose not to comment on that and turned back to the television, which seemed to be crackling even more now just to spite him.

"Maybe we need a new TV," Lightning suggested for what had to have been the hundredth time.

"Maybe you need more patience."

"Come on, Doc, everyone knows that. But maybe we need to figure out how to watch this eclipse before history happens without us." Hefting himself out of the giant beanbag with a huff, Lightning disappeared upstairs to change out of the button-up.

Fifteen minutes later, however, Doc began to suspect that some sort of shenanigans might be about to take place, if the ominous thumping was anything to go by.

When Lightning came back down at last, he was grinning wider than a country mile.

"So, for viewing purposes, the roof will definitely work."

It took everything in Doc not to heave a sigh. "Please tell me you didn't go up there."

"Well, you know that little ledge of roofing right outside your window?" Oh, dear lord... "I jumped onto that, then climbed up the other side—the one that's not as steep—and it worked! We could even lay a picnic blanket out there and everything."

In his vain quest not to think about Lightning slipping and plummeting twenty feet to the ground, Doc turned off the television and made for the kitchen. He had yet to have his morning coffee.

Lightning was hot on his heels.

"I mean, if you can find a better place, then I'm all for it, but it's starting to look like the roof is our only option," the kid pressed.

"Do you know how easy it would be to slip off there and break an arm or a leg—or both? "

"Not if we nestle in that little corner section toward the back. And if I start to tumble off, then you can grab onto me or something."

"Then I'll tumble off, too. What then?"

Lightning only shrugged.

Doc started pouring his coffee.

He hated to admit it, but the kid was right. With the crowds and their respective celebrity status, they wouldn't last ten minutes out on the front lawn.

Come on, old man. Live a little.

Feeling himself beginning to cave, Doc eyed his protégé. "Now, are you sure this is our only option? And that you're not suggesting this just because you want to go sit on the roof?"

The kid spread his arms out wide. "Hey, like I said, I'm open to any alternatives."

"But you're kind of glad there aren't any, right?" Doc said, trying desperately to hide the knowing smirk that threatened his lips.

Another shrug was all the reply he received.

Then, Lightning began rummaging through the fridge, placing random food items on the counter. Cheese, lunch meat, an apple, and a giant bag of chocolates that had somehow lasted them since Christmas were all part of the conglomeration.

Doc caught the apple before it rolled onto the floor. “Are you planning on setting up a grocery store out on the sidewalk? Hate to break it to you, but I think a lemonade stand would be better received.”

“I’m gathering supplies. I mean,” Lightning said with a shrug, “if we’re gonna be camping out on the roof, we’re going to need more than a couple bottles of water. Because I guarantee, the second I get up there and get all settled in, I’m gonna get hungry.”

As he gazed down at the growing pile of food, Doc couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t doubt it, rookie. I don’t doubt it.”

Well, old timer, he sighed to himself, smiling as his kid dashed down to the basement to find an old blanket for them to sit on, it looks like you’ll be viewing the eclipse from the roof after all.

Chapter Text

“What. On earth. Is this?”

Lightning cringed as Sally held up the shirt for everyone in the room to see. He didn’t know if anyone else knew this, but her tone of voice made it clear that someone just might perish if the logic caps didn’t go on soon and that last brain cell they’d all been sharing didn’t multiply fast.

Clearing his throat, Lightning stepped up when Luigi and Guido seemed too hesitant to take on Sally’s growing wrath. “Uh… Looks like the shirts we ordered. And hey, they are looking great! The different color options are really gonna sell well, I think.”

“No,” Sally said, jabbing her finger at one of the words on the graphic print. “What is this?”

The word in question spelled out “Greeting” in a fancy cursive script. To the naked eye, it looked pretty great. To anyone who knew what they were looking for… well, it would be considered lacking.

Hence Sally’s irritation.

“It says, ‘Greeting from Radiator Springs!’” She exclaimed when no one spoke up.

“‘Gateway to Ornament Valley,’” Lightning finished, a forced aura of cheer lancing his voice. “Just like you wanted.”

“I wanted it to say ‘Greetings!’ Lightning, it’s missing an ‘S!’ Why is it missing an ‘S?’”

All Lightning could do was shrug and look at Luigi, who now stepped up to the plate at long last.

“Ah, yes, well, I wrote down exactly what it should say on a paper note, but Guido must have gotten, eh, confused when he placed the order. English, it’s not his first language, you know?”

“Yes, I understand that,” Sally replied, her face pinching tighter in a mess of frustration and utter confusion. “What I don’t understand is why Guido placed the order when you were the one who volunteered to do it.”

Her accusing finger had drifted from the shirt to Lightning’s chest.

Right…

“See…” Lightning ran a hand over the back of his neck. “When I volunteered for that, I honestly thought I could do it, but then I realized I don’t, uh, really make any of my own merchandise, so… yeah. Anyway! I knew Luigi had ordered things for the town before, like helping Lizzie with all those bumper stickers, so I asked if he would do it…”

“And you know I would have,” Luigi chimed in, “but the shop… it got so busy! I had no time. But Guido here, he volunteered to do it.”

At this, Guido made some sort of indignant exclamation in Italian that Lightning couldn’t understand. Sally, however, seemed to get the gist of it just fine

“After he made you do it?” Guido nodded as Sally flashed a glare at Luigi, who threw up his hands in defense.

“He was not busy! I thought he would enjoy doing it!”

Guido said something else, but Lightning wasn’t listening anymore. His only goal was to diffuse the situation—and somehow smoothe over his own mistake.

“Look,” he began, taking the shirt from Sally, “it’s not like you can even tell, am I right? And who’s to say this isn’t the proper grammar? Maybe we’re not sending a bunch of greetings, just one greeting from Radiator Springs.”

Her deadpan stare rivaled Doc’s in I am absolutely, one hundred percent done with you right now ferocity.

Lightning hadn’t feared so hard for his life since he saw Doc’s expression after he and Mater broke the bell on the fire station. Accidentally, of course.

Sally took a breath, one that Lightning supposed was meant to calm her inside, and asked, “Would you like it if a piece of your merchandise just all of a sudden didn’t have the ‘N’ at the end? If it said, ‘Lightning McQuee’ instead?”

Though the mere thought was enough to make him want to cringe, Lightning forced a shrug. “I mean, I probably wouldn’t mind.”

Wouldn’t mind burning it in a fiery rage outside in the fire pit, that is.

“Really?” He noticed the beginnings of a small smirk tickle the edge of her lips. “Because I’m pretty sure you’d throw a fit and make whoever messed it up order a whole new line of merchandise.”

“All right, first off, rude. Second, I would not. I would graciously accept it, knowing that someone out there was really just trying their very best.”

Her face took on a thoughtful expression for a moment and Lightning held his breath.

“I guess you’re right,” Sally began, giving him a smile at last…

… Then turning to flash it at Guido. “Thank you, Guido. You really did try your best. And actually, the shirt design is kind of growing on me. It has… character. Well done.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait!” Lightning said, jumping back into the conversation just as Guido’s chest began to puff up with pride. “I feel like the guy who suggested that Guido order that shirt design should get a little credit, too, right?”

“You’re right,” Sally said, her smile only shining brighter, though not in Lightning’s direction. “Thank you, Luigi.”

The tire salesman beamed, clearly relieved that his blunder was now being praised rather than cursed. “Think nothing of it! I just knew Guido was the man for the job, so it seemed only natural to, how you say, pass the baton.”

“But,” Lightning pressed, “he wouldn’t have been able to pass the baton if I hadn’t given it to him in the first place.”

Sally put on her thoughtful face once more. “True… But then maybe we wouldn’t have needed to have this little conversation. If you insist on having some sort of affirmation, though…”

Before he could plead his case any further, she leaned in and enveloped him in a kiss. And he was not complaining, but it did seem a little contrary to her earlier frustration.

As she pulled away, she whispered, “Next time, don’t volunteer for something you don’t really want to do.”

“Right. Got it.” Giving his brows a suggestive wiggle, he went on, “Just let me know if there’s anything you want me to do to make it up to you.”

“Well…” Sally replied, flashing a suggestive smirk of her own. “There is one thing…”

Lightning barely had time to bask in the thought of a lovely, romantic evening when he found two of the Radiator Springs shirts shoved into his chest.

“You can buy the first two shirts,” she explained with a grin. “Thank you for your purchase. Make sure to wear it with pride.”

“But… wait…” Though Lightning fumbled for an excuse to give them back, all that ended up coming out of his wallet was the correct amount in cash, and all that came out of his mouth was, “But why two?”

“One for you and one for Doc, because he clearly didn’t teach you anything about following through on things.” Blowing an air kiss, she began sifting through the box of shirts. “But I’m sure you’ll remember that when next time comes around, Stickers.”

Lightning did, in fact, remember to follow through the next time he volunteered to help his girlfriend out because he knew that if he didn’t…

… he would find himself purchasing another ‘Greeting’ shirt to add to his growing collection.

Chapter Text

Fillmore had just flicked on the television when Doc heard it. The unmistakable voice of his protégé coming through the tinny speakers of the mini tabletop TV Sarge always brought to their pit space.

“I’m not the one who scheduled the football games at the same time as the race,” was the veteran’s only explanation. “You can’t tell me you don’t appreciate it.”

And he did, but now, even when it wasn't football season, the television still showed up in the pits somehow.

Until that afternoon, Doc had never been more grateful for the little device.

At first, he thought nothing of the current program. Probably just a commercial. Or an interview.

Only… it didn't sound like any interview Doc had ever heard, and if this was the kind of commercial Rust-eze was putting out nowadays, he wasn't sure how they expected to make any sales.

"... America's best, if that's what you want to call it," Lightning's disembodied voice was saying as images of the raceway and the surrounding landscapes flashed across the screen, "have all gathered here today to tackle the tricky road course of Sonoma, California."

Another voice chimed in as the shot panned over the track, leading into the exterior of the commentators booth. "You're looking at the great Hollywood Hotel…" Doc snorted at this, the voice laying the sarcasm on just thick enough to be amusing, while still keeping with the typical vocal clips of a narrator, "where you'd usually find some famous former driver, maybe a famous former crew chief, and some other guy hosting the pre-race show."

At last, the camera cut to the inside of the booth and Doc couldn't decide whether he wanted to laugh or massage his temples.

Because there sat Lightning and Bobby, looking as pleased as could be with themselves.

"I'd wondered where he'd run off to," Doc muttered, feeling the first twitches of a smile on his lips.

"But, honestly?" Lightning flashed the camera a smirk. "We're tired of them! So, we've decided to take over for a while."

"Hey, man," Fillmore said, glancing at Doc with a grin of his own, "you think they're gonna announce the whole race?"

"Well, someone has to drive their cars," came Doc's dry response. Yet, he found himself unable to look away as Lightning continued to introduce the pre-race show.

"Good afternoon, race fans. I'm Lightning McQueen and he's Bobby Swift, and for the next ten minutes or so, we'll be taking over your TVs."

"Maybe make that five," Bobby corrected, absently shuffling through a stack of cue cards. "I don't think it's going to take Cartip and Cutlass very long to finish getting their coffee."

"You heard it here first, folks. We might be dethroned before our reign has even begun, so let's get to it." Lightning turned to Bobby, mimicking the typical pose of the actual announcers. "Bobby, are you hoping to conquer Sonoma today?"

As Bobby went into vague detail about some of his potential strategies, Sarge strolled into the pit, doing a double-take when he noticed the TV.

"They're hosting the pre-race show," Doc helpfully pointed out.

Sarge's brows shot up. "Who signed off on that decision?"

This got a chuckle out of Doc and he turned back to the TV just as Bobby began reaching under the desk.

"You know, I've been finding some interesting stuff around here. Like this super old hairspray can. Think we should use some of it so we'll be like real commentators?"

Lightning shook his head and took the spray, turning it over in his hands. "Nah, let's save it for Cal, just in case he wins."

They exchanged a knowing look and Doc found himself pitying poor Cal. Should he win today, he would have some sort of unfathomable prank waiting for him at the end of Victory Lane.

"Do they have any makeup down there?" Lightning asked. "For those in between shots when they need to powder their cheeks?"

For his part, Bobby kept from chuckling, even as Doc noticed his face twitching with a bundle of humor just waiting to be expelled.

"Nope, just this hairbrush."

"Save that for Cal, too."

"Right. What about this water bottle?"

Instead of replying to Bobby, Lightning fixed the camera with a winning smile and said, "Like our award winning commentators do, stay hydrated out there, kids. And stay in school, too, if you feel like it."

"You can't say that," Bobby said, giving Lightning a small punch to the shoulder. "You're gonna have an angry mob of parents after you when their kids come home early tomorrow and say that Lightning McQueen told them they don't have to go to school."

"All right, fine. Scratch that. Stay in school all the time, kids. And tell your parents to buy Rust-eze."

Bobby turned his attention back to the stack of cards. "I kind of feel misled because this commentating stuff doesn't look nearly as hard as they make it out to be. With all the stuff on these cue cards, you don't need to know a damn thing about racing. You just use these cards and you can know anything in the past. These guys, they don't do hardly anything."

"I agree. I mean, look at this." Lightning grabbed one of the cards and read off some random historical facts about Strip Weathers. "See? I didn't even know all that, but if you're just hearing my voice over the race, you won't know that I don't know that."

"Exactly."

"Hey, is there anything about me in here...?"

As he flipped through the cards, Bobby smiled at the screen. "Well, it's about time for us to get ready to race, but first we're going to go round up the usual characters that host the pre-race show from the Hollywood Hotel. Any final thoughts, Lightning?"

"Not really." Abandoning his search, the kid shrugged. "I'm just ready to go green. And I'm just really glad I don't have be the one to say 'boogedy, boogedy, boogedy.'"

"... I think you sort of just did."

Lightning blinked, as if only just then catching himself. "Oh yeah… I guess I did. And they got that on tape, too, didn't they…? Dang it!"

"Oh well," Bobby said, gathering up the hairspray and comb, then glancing at the tech guys offscreen. "All right, gents. Roll the opening."

Before the intro for the pre-race show began, Doc saw Lightning turn to Bobby and ask:

"Okay, but on a scale of one to ten, how dumb did that catchphrase sound coming out of my mouth?”

"Like really dumb. You don't have the voice for it, bro."

"Yeah, but on a scale of one to ten, though…"

Doc couldn't help it. The laughter started soft, growing until it had him in borderline hysterics.

"Best pre-race intro I've ever seen, hands down. "

"Someone should knock those two upside the head," Sarge declared with a gruff voice and smiling eyes. "Telling kids not to stay in school…"

"Man, that was far out," Fillmore commented. "Lightning's, like, a celebrity or something now."

At that, Sarge rolled his eyes and left to find the carjack.

Later that day, when Lightning was all suited up and driving in the lineup behind the pace car, Doc couldn't hold back another little bout of laughter.

"What? Doc, what's so funny?"

"Nothing, rookie," he replied with a grin. "But I think someone needs to tell you…"

"What? What is it?"

Doc let the silence fill the headset for a minute before replying.

"On a scale of one to ten, I'd have to say it was an eight. Ten being the worst, of course."

First, there was nothing. Then, Lightning let out a long dramatic groan.

"Ugh, they caught that one camera? Was it in the broadcast? Please don't tell me it was in the broadcast."

"Sorry, kid, it was in the broadcast."

"Great…"

Doc just chuckled again.

Today had already been such a good day so far.

Now, let's keep that up by winning this thing…

Checkered flag, here we come.

Chapter Text

“I think about how it ain’t fair,

That you weren’t there to braid my hair

Like mothers do.”

~ “I Wonder,” Kellie Pickler

Her hair wasn't very long for a four-year-old's, but it was just long enough. Running his fingers through the dark, wavy locks, Lightning found he was able to take his mind off everything.

If only for a brief moment.

Sitting with his precious child on the living room floor, the crash and Jackson Storm seemed lifetimes away.

Sometimes his arms still ached from when they had wrenched against the wheel, or maybe that was all in his mind. Phantom pain, Sally said when he was being particularly mopey.

It's all in your head, kid, Doc would've said…

As his fingers flew through her hair with practiced ease, Lightning took a steadying breath. He had never been more thankful to have little Paula to pour all his time and energy into than in that moment, and she deserved it, considering he'd been so distant and moody lately.

"Tell me if I'm pulling too hard," he said and she tried to glance back at him, her chubby little cheeks caught in a smile. "No, wait!" Holding onto her hair, he gently guided her head back around until it was straight again. "You don't want to mess it up, do you?"

Paula simply giggled, clasping her hands to her cheeks in anticipation. "Make it really long, Daddy!"

"It'll be the longest it's ever been," he promised.

Which wasn't a lie, exactly. Her hair was the longest it's ever been at that point, so her braid would be, too.

He was just tying it off with a rubber band when he noticed Sally hovering in the doorway. There was a look on her face that he couldn't decipher and he hoped that meant she was just surprised to see that he'd finally emerged from Doc's garage.

Lightning expected her to smile and say something like, "It's nice to see you finally came up for air." Then, he'd make some sort of similar reply and they would banter for a moment or two. Paula would giggle at their antics and then Sally might join them on the floor.

Instead, a minute crept by and Sally continued to hover in the doorway. That was… odd.

Maybe she's mad at you for spending so much time in that damn garage.

But that couldn't be it. She wouldn't have been enabling you by bringing all those snacks around if that were the case.

So... what?

Tying off the braid, Lightning gave Paula a gentle nudge. "Go on. Go show Mom."

"Mommy, mommy! Look!" She ran to Sally and twirled. "Daddy says my hair is long enough for it now! Does it look pretty?"

Though that expression didn't quite dissipate, Sally smiled and knelt down beside her child. "It's beautiful, baby." When she glanced up at Lightning, the look returned full-force. "I didn't know you could do that."

Lightning chuckled and waved a dismissive hand. "I know, I know. Guys don't usually know how to braid hair. You could probably do it ten times better, if we're being honest, but I think it turned out all right."

Her lips pursed as she ran her fingers over the tiny braid. "Could you show me how?"

Blinking, Lightning hoped his shock wasn't written all over his face. He could've questioned it; could've asked why in the heck she didn't know how to do something so simple, especially since she was once a little girl herself.

Instead, he beckoned Paula back over and Sally followed a few seconds later.

"Do you mind if we take out your braid and do another one?" he asked.

Paula shook her head, her bottom lip sticking out. "It's too pretty!"

"Yeah," Lightning pressed, slipping his hand into Sally's as she sat down, "but Mommy wants a turn. Don't you think it would be a nice thing to do if we gave her one?"

Paula took a moment to think about this before finally plopping back down on the floor.

"'Kay, but it has to be the most beautifulest one in the whole world!"

"That is a promise I definitely can't keep," Sally commented, almost entirely under her breath.

"Kid," Lightning began as he took Paula's tiny hand in his own, "this is going to be the most beautiful braid you and I have ever seen."

Excited now, Paula started trying to take out the braid on her own.

"Hold on! You don't want to tangle it all up…" Lightning undid the braid until her hair was flowing freely again, then he turned to Sally. "Okay, so you watch this first one while I explain what I'm doing, and then you can give it a try."

Sally just nodded, having smoothed that earlier expression off her face for the most part, though its ghost still lingered.

"How did you get so good at this, anyway?" she asked after a moment or two of watching.

“My mom taught me,” Lightning explained. “I mean, my hair was never long enough, but she liked it when I braided hers. It was so long. Or maybe it just felt long because I was so young… Anyway, I would also give it a little massage like this if she had a headache.”

He began wiggling his fingers through Paula’s hair until she was giggling about being ticklish.

A soft laugh escaped Sally’s lips. “I’m sure that really helped her headaches.”

“Oh, for sure.” Scooting to the side, he motioned for her to take his place. “All right, your turn.”

With slight hesitation, she slid behind Paula. As Lightning gave her instructions, Sally slowly began twining the thin locks together. He only had to help her once, stopping her before she got trapped in a tangled mess.

“Wow,” he praised when Sally showcased the final product. “See? I don’t know what the heck you were talking about earlier, you’re a natural!”

“It looks so beautiful!” Sally told Paula, voice full of the kind of Mom energy that over-hyped even the most mundane things. “Go look at it in the mirror!”

With a burst of excitement, Paula hopped up and disappeared down the hall to the bathroom. 

Once she was gone, Sally slumped back against the couch with a heavy sigh. “Mom used to braid my hair when I was really young,” she explained. “But she left before she could actually teach me anything like that.”

Oh…

That… made sense. And it also hurt his heart. It was the one thing he wished they didn't have in common.

Because she deserved to have a mom who stuck around. If anyone deserved that more than anything, it's her.

"So," Sally went on, sucking in a quick breath and shrugging her shoulders in a way that meant let's move on. "Anyway, I'm just really shocked that I've known you for how long, now? And I'm just learning that you know how to braid."

Lightning chuckled, but it felt forced and dry. Like they were trying to move on too fast from something too devastating. Something that still had its claws sunk deep in both their skin.

"Honestly? Sometimes, I forget I can do it. But hey," he said, taking her hand again and leaning close until their shoulders were touching. "Maybe you didn't know how to braid growing up, but I'm sure you could throw a mean curveball."

This got her laughing, if only a little bit. "Are we really going to play the gender-roles game? Dads aren't only known for their throwing and catching skills. And a lot of moms know how to throw a baseball."

Lightning shot her a wink. "And some dads can braid. But my mom wasn't a baseball fan and your dad wasn't a hairstylist, so…"

She lifted a brow. "So…?"

"So… Can you throw a good curveball?"

Though it took her a moment, she nodded, smiling back at him. "Yes. I haven't done it in awhile, but I might still be good at it. Is that something I'm going to have to teach you?" she added with a sly smirk.

"Nah." Lightning waved a hand. "Mack already did that a long time ago. You can teach her, though."

At that, Sally glanced up just in time to see Paula skip back into the room.

"It's the most beautifulest one in the whole world! Thank you, Mommy!" She plopped into Sally's lap and started pulling at the hair tie. "Do it again! Do it again!"

Lightning grinned and nudged his wife's shoulder. "Your public awaits, Madame."

Later that evening, once Paula was safely tucked into bed, Lightning had just sat down on the couch, TV remote in hand, when Sally came in and claimed the spot beside him.

"My turn.” When he lifted a brow, she ran a hand through her hair. “I’d like one braid and one head massage, please.”

“Oh, well then,” Lightning said, smirking as he cracked his knuckles. “Step into my hair salon.”

“And…” Sally put a hand on his wrist, stopping his hands before they could get too far. “I want a massage that actually does something, not whatever you gave our child.”

“What?” Lightning feigned offense. “You mean, you don’t want something like… this? ” He couldn’t tickle her head for more than a handful of seconds before she flinched away laughing. “Or… this?”

“Stop!” Sally laughed. “Stickers, stop!”

And that’s how Lightning found himself shoved onto the floor. “Ow, hey!” But he was laughing as he climbed back up to the couch.

“Okay, okay!” He put his hands up in mock surrender. “I swear, I’ll actually do it right this time.”

Though she gave him a skeptical look, her eyes were smiling. So, he started the massage.

“It’s never too late to learn something new, you know,” he said after a minute.

Sally’s shoulders gave a little shrug.

“I mean, we’re always learning, right up until we’re in our graves. Doc used to say that more times than I can count.”

A long beat of silence passed before Sally sighed. “I miss him, too.”

“Yeah…” It was Lightning’s turn to suck in a sharp, let’s move on breath. “But hey, I might already know how to throw a curveball, but I’m pretty sure there’s, like, a bazillion other things you can teach me sometime.”

“Like how to not let the trash overflow?”

“Hey, I get it before it gets bad. Usually.”

“Or how to make your side of the bed?”

“Eh, I never did that anyway, even when we weren’t married.”

“Or how to—”

“Okay, okay! Okay,” Lightning laughed. “I think you’ve made your point.”

Sally flashed him a smirk over her shoulder. “Good.”

“And, with that… voila! One braid, as ordered.”

Sally ran her hand over it and smiled. “Thanks. So, what kind is this?”

“Uh… What?”

“Is it a French Braid, a fishtail?”

Lightning scrunched his nose. “The heck is a fishtail?”

“Maybe I didn’t exactly know how to do a braid, Stickers, but I do know about all the different kinds.”

“What are you talking about, different kinds? It’s… It’s just a regular one. It’s not whatever the heck a French Braid is, it’s just a braid braid!”

As Lightning continued muttering about braids, he heard Sally laugh again seconds before he felt her lips connect with his.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“The most beautifulest one in the whole world?”

Another laugh was music to his ears. “The most beautifulest in the whole world.”

Chapter Text

The kid had been distracted all day. First during the drive to LA, which had been nothing short of hell thanks to Lightning's nervous energy, and now while they were trying to get through the pre-practice preparations.

"Looking at you," he'd told the kid on the drive over, "one would think you're headed to the first race of your rookie season. Where are the nerves coming from?"

Lightning had waved him off, then proceeded to talk about the cows back in Radiator Springs. How one just had a baby in the sheriff's backyard, of all places, and how Mater was supposedly going to be helping it get back to its pasture at some point.

"If you boys would quit going out there and scaring them like you do," Doc had countered, “and making them want to scatter all about, then maybe she could've had her baby somewhere else..."

By that conversation alone, Doc honestly should have known.

He could have asked Lightning again about the nerves that the kid just couldn't seem to keep at bay, but he didn't know how much good that would do. If he waited long enough, his kid would spill it.

Lightning always did sooner or later.

Knowing him, it should be sooner…

Pulling on his cap and jacket, Doc watched as the kid finished getting into his tracksuit. It was just the two of them left in the trailer, the rest of their team having gone out to prep the #95 pit box.

Any minute now—

"All right, I can't take it anymore!" Lightning threw his hands into the air and Doc knew he would have paced if the floor space wasn't so narrow. "She wanted it to be a surprise and do a whole reveal party sort of thing, but I swear, we were going to tell you first anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter that I'm jumping the gun like this. I just can't keep it in any longer because I keep thinking about how I don't even know if I'm ready for a baby or if I could even handle it right now, what with the racing season having just started..."

The kid was saying something else—Doc didn't think he'd paused for a breath yet—but all Doc could hear was the same word echoing like a joyful little bell in his mind.

Baby.

Were Sally and Lightning really having a—?

"And what if I screw it all up, huh?" the kid pressed, having stopped for the slightest, smallest breath Doc had ever seen. "I mean, I knew we were going to try for something like this at some point, but I guess I didn't think it would happen this quickly, you know? Like, well, I mean, we talked about it, and stopped using protection and all that—sorry if that’s too much information—but now? Already? What… What if I don't know what to do? What if I hold it when it's born and immediately, like, drop it or something? Huh, Doc? What then?"

"Hold on, son," Doc said. "Back up for me for just a second or two. I heard you right, didn't I?" Please, tell me I heard you right. "Sally is..."

Lightning paused just long enough for his face to entertain half a second of confusion. "Yeah… Yeah," he went on, taking a longer, deeper breath this time around. "Yeah, Doc, Sally's pregnant. We're… Gosh, we're having a baby. Doc, we're—"

Pulling his kid into his arms, Doc held him tight, blinking away the tears of joy that wanted nothing more than to make themselves known.

"Congratulations, Lightning," he managed, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper. "Congratulations."

It only took a handful of seconds for the kid to return the embrace. "Thanks, Doc. She really shouldn't have told me before a race, though."

At this, Doc couldn't help but chuckle, pulling away until he could look at his kid face to face. "Son, when it comes to news like this, there's really no time like the present. And if you think you're going to screw this up, then you don't know yourself like I do."

The kid still seemed unsure, but already, Doc could see the stress lines fading from his face and the tension slipping out of his shoulders.

"It feels good to tell someone, at least."

Doc, for his part, couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear. "Feels good to be told. Do you have any names picked out?"

Lightning barked a laugh. "She just told me this morning before we left. I haven't even had time to breathe, much less pick out names! But don't worry, when I think of something, you'll be the first to know."

"If it's a boy, you could always go with Steve," Doc suggested, doing nothing to hide the sly smirk that was creeping across his features.

Flashing him a look that was the absolute epitome of unamused, Lightning rolled his eyes. "I'm not naming my kid Steve McQueen."

"Why not? He raced cars, too."

"Yeah, but then the kid would have to go through the rest of his life having to deal with people asking him if he was actually named after the actor and which of the movies were his favorite. Besides, I don't think Sally would go for that…"

"Hmm. Probably not."

Baby. He couldn't believe the kids were finally going to have a baby.

"Do you…" Lightning cleared his throat. "Uh, do you think you could pretend to act surprised at the reveal party? Or whenever Sally and I 'tell you?' I really wasn't supposed to say anything…"

Doc's eyes softened. "Of course, rookie. I'll put on a performance worthy of an Oscar."

"Just don't overdo it."

"I believe you're thinking of yourself." Lightning waved a dismissive hand and shook his head, smiling, but Doc wasn't done. "Do you remember when you told me that you and Cal were going to be featured on an episode of Top Gear?"

"Uh… yeah?"

"Strip had already told me before that."

"What?" Lightning gaped. "But… B-But, you looked so shocked! So surprised! How…? Oh, dang. You really should have an Oscar…"

"Nah. I already have three Piston Cups. I think that's enough trophies for one lifetime. Now, come on. Let's go out there get you closer to winning another one. You've got to pass me up one of these days."

"I don't know," Lightning said with a smirk. "I thought three was enough for one lifetime…"

"Funny, but you're not giving up on me that easy. And kid?" Doc went on, slipping an arm around Lightning's shoulders as they both made for the door of the trailer. "Congratulations. You're gonna make one hell of a father."

"Thanks, Doc," Lightning replied, giving Doc a slight nudge in the side. "I mean, I did learn from the best, after all."

The warmth that had been building in Doc's chest after hearing the news was compounded by the shine in his kid's eyes.

"Well, I don't know about that," he replied, "but I do know that this is shaping up to be one perfect day for racing."

"Okay, well, then obviously, you don't know you as well as I know you."

Doc laughed. "Touche, kid. And…" He tightened his grip around Lightning's shoulders for a few seconds. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, Doc."

Chapter Text

Doc hadn’t been working on that morning’s patient for more than five minutes when the echo of a door bursting open filled the clinic. Stitches were always a nasty business. They required a delicate, steady touch, and relatively no distractions.

Sometimes, it seemed that, to Lightning, everything was relative.

The kid burst into the room not a moment later, a skip in his step and a gleam in his eyes.

Doc knew that gleam. It meant the kid was here for more than just a friendly chat.

“I’m working,” he told Lightning. “What do you want?”

“What? I can’t just drop by for a visit like a normal person?” Doc shot him a brief look before returning his gaze to his patient’s arm. “I mean, I haven’t even seen you since last night!”

“Maybe if you got up at a decent hour, like a normal person, we could’ve had a cup of coffee together.”

“First off, it’s Saturday on one of my only off-weeks, and second… Do you really want me to have coffee?”

“Seems to me like you either already had some or don’t need it today. Now, let’s conclude this little get-together so I can focus on what I’m doing. Does that sound reasonable to a normal person, such as yourself?”

“Oh, geez.” Lightning finally seemed to notice the patient sitting with his arm out on the small table. “That looks painful… Anyway, I was gonna take Sally up to the Wheel Well for a drive, but my car’s out of gas…”

And here it comes…

“Can I use the Hornet?”

Doc shared a one-sided look of exasperation with his patient before turning his attention back to Lightning. “If you couldn’t already tell, I’m in the middle of putting in stitches.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s why all I need is a quick little answer and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“There’s a gallon of gas in a can toward the back of the garage. Just use that.”

“Yeah, but the Hornet would just be so much faster. Besides, what if I spill gas all over myself accidentally and then have to change? You don’t want me to have to make Sally wait, do you?”

“Sounds like a you problem, kid.”

“Please? I swear, I’ll be so, so careful!”

“No.”

“Please?”

“If you don’t want to pour the gas yourself, then just take Sally’s car. Better yet, have her pour it for you. She knows how to do it.”

“I know how to pour gas. But fine,” Lightning relented with a huff, drawing out the fine until it had three syllables instead of one. “I don’t need to drive your dumb car.”

“Good. Glad that’s settled.”

“... Please? I promise, I’ll drive ten under the speed limit and—”

“No, and that’s final. Now, let me work before I come over there and stitch you up.”

“Fine!” Crossing his arms and decidedly not pouting, as he would swear to Doc later on, Lightning got in one last jab before heading toward the door. “I bet you learned all your doctor skills from watching House, anyway.”

With a practiced ease, Doc returned, “And I bet you learned your driving skills from watching episodes of Speed Racer as a boy.”

Lightning muttered something under his breath that Doc couldn’t catch, and neither did he care to.

“Have a good time and tell Sally I said hi,” he added. All he got was a short wave in reply.

And with that, Lightning was gone, disappearing almost as quickly as he had appeared.

“Man,” his patient said after a moment, sounds as exasperated as Doc felt, “your son’s a bit of a whirlwind, isn’t he?”

Doc chuckled at this, a warm smile gracing his features. “He sure is. He sure is… ”

Chapter Text

He was about to lose his mind. This was worse than when Paula was a baby.

Worse than when either of his kids were babies.

Lightning would take a screaming newborn over screaming children any day. He always thought it would be easier once his kids could use their words to communicate.

Turns out, some days it was harder.

“For the last time, ” Lightning managed to get out through clenched teeth, “if you keep hitting your sister, I will take that dinosaur away and throw it in the garbage!”

A rare moment of silence settled over the car.

Sally wouldn’t have approved of this particular method of discipline, but Lightning didn’t care at the moment. He was just trying to drive his kids home. Was that too much to ask?

It had been hard enough getting Jason into his car seat. Lightning had fought worse battles on the track. Nothing in the world had prepared him for a toddler with bones of jelly and a will of iron.

“Dad,” Paula’s voice cried out after less than a minute. How had it not even been a full minute yet? “He did it again!”

“Then frickin’ defend yourself!” Lightning exclaimed, risking a glance at his kids through the rearview mirror. “Wait, never mind, don’t do that. And don’t tell your mother I told you to do that. I said, don’t defend—!” he added when he heard the telltale smack of his seven-year-old’s hand against her little brother’s head.

“You told me to!” The growing tears in his daughter’s voice did nothing to tug at Lightning’s heartstrings. If anything, it made him want to slam on his breaks and get out of the car.

Instead, he took a breath and reached behind his seat, groping for Jason’s T-Rex toy. Eyes half on the road but mostly keeping a watch on his kids, he felt the car swerve.

No one else was on the road, so it was probably fine. He just hoped Sally had some sort of comfort food ready by the time they got home—he was gonna need it.

The second his fingers brushed against plastic, he grabbed the toy.

Jason’s instantaneous crying filled the car, almost making Lightning regret tossing the dinosaur into the passenger seat.

“Dad!” Paula shouted. “He’s so loud! Make him stop!”

The second-best solution—the first being returning the dino to Jason and letting him continue to whack Paula—was to turn up the music. That idea came back to bite him hard when he remembered what was playing.

Whoever had introduced his daughter to K-pop was going to die when Lightning got a hold of them. He would have changed the playlist ages ago if he hadn’t promised Paula when they had all driven down to Flagstaff last week—as she was so eager to remind him earlier that afternoon—that the next long car ride would be her turn to pick the music.

This is it. Lightning almost banged his forehead against the steering wheel as Jason’s cries escalated. This is how I die.

The blue and white flashing lit up his mirror before he could even make out the sound of the sirens.

Great…

As he pulled off to the side of the road, he tried turning the music down, but it chose that moment to glitch. 

Crazy old car…

So, he tried to turn it off. The only thing he got for his efforts was a high-pitched vocal riff that crescendoed into lyrics in a language he couldn’t understand. There were probably a bucketful of swear words in this song and he would never even know the difference.

That would be just my luck, wouldn’t it?

The officer looked nice enough when he walked over, but Lightning couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn.

“Can you turn off the music, sir?”

“No. It’s stuck,” he told the cop. In the background, Jason continued to wail.

“Right… Well, do you know how fast you were going?”

“Honestly?” Lightning heaved a sigh. “I have no idea, so could you just give me the ticket and we can get this over with?”

The cop looked at Lightning, looked at the kids in the back, and then offered an understanding smile.

“You know what? I’ll let you off with a warning this time.”

No sooner had the officer returned to his car than Lightning was speeding—though not exceeding the max limit—down the road.

All he needed to do was get home…

… It was only after both kids were in bed that night that Lightning found himself collapsing on the couch at Doc’s. It was a mini rant session under the guise of an evening visit. He would rant to Sally, but… he figured that would do more harm than good. He’d seen how frazzled she’d looked after putting the kids to bed. Hopping over to Doc’s seemed to be the best option.

“Doc,” he sighed, stretching out and throwing an arm over his face, “just be so glad you never had any kids.”

From his place in his easy chair, Doc snorted. “I’m sorry, son, what was that, now? I don’t think I quite heard you.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll give you that one,” Lightning replied, trying not to roll his eyes and prove Doc’s point. “I mean, toddlers.”

Another snort from Doc had Lightning giving his eyes the biggest roll known to man.

“All right, ouch. But I wasn’t that bad. Besides, you didn’t even know me when I was a child.”

“I didn’t…? Huh. Could’ve fooled me.”

“Ha ha. Okay, but somehow, Paula discovered this type of music called K-pop and it’s, like, just a bunch of hot boys singing falsetto or rapping in Korean. I can’t stand it! I don’t even know what the heck they’re saying! I would’ve rather her get hooked on literally any other boy band. At least I could actually sing along to One Direction or Backstreet Boys. I swear, she plays it just to annoy me.”

“Wow. That’s so sad,” Doc began, and for a moment, Lightning thought he might be close to getting some real sympathy. Then, he heard Doc say, “Alexa, play the Brittney Spears playlist.”

Oh no.

As the first bars of “Oops, I Did It Again” filtered through the living room, Lightning let out a groan and pulled a pillow over his face.

He could just picture Doc’s smug face. “I think it’s called karma, rookie. When I told you way back then show much this singer annoys the absolute hell out of me, I remember having to listen to you play this song and “Toxic” on repeat. I think you can suffer through a little of Paula’s music. She’s probably not doing it on purpose… unless she learned a thing or two from her father…”

“Okay! Okay! I give! It’s my turn to suffer, I get it! I just… need to work on my patience, I guess,” he finished in a mumble. “Also, remind me not to give you any new technology this Christmas. Getting you an Alexa was a huge mistake.”

“Oh, I don’t know. She’s really been growing on me lately.”

“ Right. If I’m remembering right, you didn’t even want her when you first unwrapped the thing.”

“I thought nothing of the sort. But…” Lightning peaked out from underneath his pillow just in time to watch a fond smile settle on Doc’s face. “I supposed I should let you have some peace and quiet. Alexa—”

“No, wait!” Lightning held out a hand. “I like this song. At least wait ‘til it gets to the dialogue part, then you can turn it off. It’s mostly over by then, anyway.”

The sly smirk returned to Doc’s face in that moment. “I thought the ‘ending was the best part?’”

“Okay, to be fair, I only told you that because I wanted you to have to listen to it all the way through.”

“Oh, I know, kid. I figured that out around the third or fourth replay in a row.”

“Come on, I did not play it that much.”

Doc merely raised a brow. “Wanna bet?”

Lightning took a moment to contemplate this. “Uh, not really… You know what, maybe I’ll go back home. Sally’s probably wondering why I’m taking so long. I told her I was coming to borrow your newspaper.”

“You? Reading a newspaper?”

“What?” Lightning gave a shrug as he pulled himself up off the couch. “It’s your fault for getting me addicted to crossword puzzles. Anyway, see you later, Doc. And, uh… Thanks for the reality check.”

Doc smiled. “Anytime, son.”

Sally was waiting for him when he got home.

“So,” she began, arms crossed as she greeted him at the door. “Paula’s allowed to hit Jason now, huh? Gotta say, Stickers, that’s an interesting new parenting style you’ve got going there…”

Lightning couldn’t help the laugh that shot past his lips. His wife was clearly trying not to smile, and failing so hard.

“That’s little snitch…”

Chapter Text

Something was wrong, he noticed it from the start.

Well, maybe not from the very start, but the longer he let the shower cascade over his head, the more Lightning began to realize that the water wasn’t getting warmer. It was getting colder.

Not good.

Turning the faucet handle all the way toward the red did more harm than good, it felt like. The heck is happening…?

Mondays were for long showers and turning the bathroom into a sauna. The day after a race, he figured he deserved that much.

But this was not supposed to happen.

Washing all the shampoo out of his hair, he barely made it out of the shower before the ice water began to soak into his skin. Shivering and grabbing a towel, Lightning didn’t hesitate.

A situation like this required action.

Pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he dialed a plumber. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve just complained to Doc, then hovered over his mentor until the water was fixed. However, with Doc out of town with the Sheriff—some annual Bingo tournament thing or whatever—Lightning was alone.

It didn’t occur to him until after he hung up that maybe someone in Radiator Springs knew how to fix water pipes…

Oh, well.

All he had to do now was wait, and hope that he would be able to do a shower redo later on. The plumber promised to be there in the next couple of hours.

Yeah. Lightning grinned as he flopped on the couch and flicked on the TV.

It was all coming together.

“You didn’t really think we were going to win anything, did you?” Doc spared a glance at his friend.

The sheriff had been moody ever since leaving Flagstaff. “I didn’t think we’d lose that badly.”

“But did you have fun?” This earned Doc a glare. “All right, be that way, then. Maybe next time, I’ll bring the kid along instead of you.”

“Like he would be any better at it…”

Doc shrugged. “You never know. He tends to have these hidden talents that only surface when it’s relevant to the situation.”

Sheriff couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at this, though his expression remained dismal.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Doc focused on the road ahead. At least they were almost home, where he could sit down in his recliner and put up his feet. Maybe grab that week’s paper and—

“Having water problems?” Sheriff’s question confirmed what Doc had just laid eyes upon. He tried to stifle a groan. “Doesn’t the kid know that Sarge can fix a busted pipe like nobody’s business?”

Doc didn’t reply. He was too busy staring at the plumbing truck that was pulling out of his driveway.

The heck did he do now…?

He slowed down enough to let the truck pass by before whipping the car into the drive.

“You know,” Doc began, “I’m not even sure I want to go inside.”

But the sheriff was already booking it for the side door.

It’s now or never, Doc thought with a sigh.

Whatever was about to greet him beyond that door, he was as ready as he would ever be.

The kid was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a National Geographic magazine. He barely glanced up when they entered. Not a good sign.

“Hey, how was bingo?” Lightning asked in a tone that was trying just a bit to hard to be nonchalant.

“Fine,” Doc replied, risking a look at the sink. It looked normal enough… “Just fine. So, what was the plumber for?”

“Oh, it was nothing.” Lightning shrugged as he turned the page. “He was just checking out a few things.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Oh, you know… Just, like, the water and stuff. Fixing a few pipes here and there along the way.”

“Lightning, how expensive were these few things?”

The kid waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that. I took care of it—and not with your card this time.”

“Well, that’s good to hear, I guess, but I still haven’t heard why exactly the plumber was here in the first place.”

Another shrug from Lightning was the last straw.

“Maybe I should just call him and ask…”

The kid threw up his hands in exasperation. “The hot water wasn’t working, okay? So I called the plumber and he just went in the basement and flipped a dumb little switch like it was nothing!”

Doc blinked.

The hot water. Wasn’t working.

Lord… give me strength.

A soft chuckle echoed beside him and he turned just in time to see Sheriff revving up for a full-on belly laugh. “You called the plumber just to have him turn on the hot water, son?”

Lightning rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Well, how was I supposed to know what was going on? I’m not a plumber.”

“Clearly,” came Doc’s dry response. “Next time, just call Sarge. He’s good with plumbing. Or call me. I could’ve told you how to flip that switch and turn the water heater back on.”

“Sure. So, what? I’m the only one in this whole town who didn’t know about the hot water heater?”

Doc clapped his kid on the shoulder. “Don’t let it get to you, rookie. We all have our moments.”

This just made the sheriff laugh harder.

“Doc, can’t you get him to stop that? I don’t see what’s so funny about this situation. I almost froze to death in that shower this morning!”

But Doc had already rounded the corner into the living room, trying desperately to swallow a chuckle of his own.

Sometimes, Lightning just beat everything.

And Doc didn’t know what he would do with that kid.

Chapter Text

Over the last year or so, Doc had found himself categorizing the kid in two main ways. Predictable and unpredictable. The results often varied, and it didn’t take long to realize that Lightning was often predictable in his unpredictability. Granted, there are times Doc could see a certain response coming from miles away, or anticipate typical things the kids might do.

And yet… there were other times…

Times that made Doc question how much he truly knew about his protege. Times that had the veteran racer doing a double-take. This unpredictability had shown itself in dozens of different ways from random piano skills the kid had to deep-seeded secrets of the past sprouting up out of nowhere.

To Doc, it was all part of the package that was Lightning McQueen. By now, he was getting used to the surprises. Though, nothing had surprised him—or touched his heart—more than what happened in the Rust-eze tent that day.

They had been signing headshots, collector’s cards, and everything under the sun for the past hour. With each stroke of his pen, Doc could feel his energy slip a little further down the drain. And they still had to run a full race after this.

Why people wanted to waste hours of their day standing in line to get a celebrity signature that they could easily forge by copying the signatures on Wikipedia was beyond Doc’s level of comprehension. It didn’t make sense back in the day with the Beatles craze and the Elvis Presley frenzy, and it didn’t make sense now.

To each their own, I suppose.

But some people should just save their time and money.

Never mind the Paul Newman autograph he had tucked in the bottom of his dresser. He’d gotten that at a garage sale, so it probably wasn’t even real—except he’d had it appraised and not only was it very real, it was now very priceless.

That was neither here nor there, and he brushed the thought away as he glanced at Lightning.

If the kid was getting tired, he didn’t show it. Didn’t even flex his wrist or roll the kinks out of his neck. He just flashed that dazzling smile and thanked each and every person for being such an amazing fan.

“People like to think it’s the sponsors who keep drivers like me out there on the track,” Lightning told one young boy, shooting him a quick wink, “but it’s actually fans like you. Without your love and support, none of us would be here right now.”

The girl glowed, clutching her freshly signed #95 hat like it was the Holy Grail.

“Thank you, Mr. McQueen!”

As the girl left, making way for the next fan in line, Doc muttered, “I can’t believe we still have another half hour of this. Don’t they know there’s a race on?”

It was good-natured complaining, Doc’s favorite kind, and it had the kid rolling his eyes. “You’re just bitter because a lot of these kids don’t even know who you are.”

“Yeah? I’d like to see one person my age who even cares about who you are.”

“Oh, you are so gonna pay for the comment later…” But the kid was laughing as the next fans stepped up to the table.

A mother and her son, who looked to be no older than seven or eight. By the red t-shirt and the #95 diecast car, it was clear who they were here to see.

More power to them. It would give Doc a moment to sit back and relax.

“Hey there!” Lightning began, leaning over the table to be closer to the boy’s height. “What’s your name?”

Though the boy smiled, he made no reply. That’s when his mother stepped in. “My baby’s deaf,” she explained, “so if you have a moment, I can translate for both of you. I know you’re super busy, but you’re his favorite driver and he’s been dying to meet you ever since…”

She trailed off as Lightning turned his attention back to the boy, letting his fingers fly.

“Hey there,” he repeated with all the enthusiasm of the first time, except now, his hands spoke along with his lips. “What’s your name?”

Doc couldn’t describe the way the little boy’s face lit up. Like a thousand Christmas lights or something. No, brighter than that.

The boy signed something in reply, then the kid signed back.

“Nice to meet you, Jonathan.” Doc’s head got lost in all those individual letters, but Lightning clearly had a handle on it.

And it was more than surprising. It was heartwarming.

“I heard I’m your favorite driver. Can I sign something fun for you?”

The conversation continued while the mother tried not to cry and Doc fought to blink the mist out of his eyes. It all came to a head when Lightning made his way around the table to give the boy a hug. Turns out it was his birthday or something.

“Thank you,” the mother beamed as she and her boy left with their prize. A signed diecast.

Doc still didn’t know how the kid managed to sign those tiny things…

“What?” At the sound of Lightning’s voice, Doc realized he must have been staring.

Right. Say something.

“How long have you known how to do that?”

“Do what?”

Doc raised a brow. “Nope. Not in the mood for games. How long have you known how to talk with your hands like that?”

“Oh, you mean ASL?” the kid replied, while signing.

“Yeah, that.”

A shrug. “One of my mom’s best friends was deaf. I liked her a lot, so I learned how to talk to her.”

Simple as that, the kid might as well have said.

“So you’ve just… known how to do that all this time?”

“Believe me, you don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to prank you and just randomly pull it out.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Another shrug. “Guess I forgot.”

“Guess you forgot, huh? Pretty significant thing to forget, don’t you think?”

“Come on, Doc, you’re holding up the line.”

“Yeah, sure…” Despite the grumbling, he couldn’t help the smile that had crept onto his face. Nor the way he ruffled the kid’s hair. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re sort of one of a kind?”

“Just sort of?”

“Don’t push it, rookie,” Doc chuckled. “Don’t push it.”