Chapter Text
Lightning felt his heart pounding in his ears as a smile broke onto his face. He was ahead. Not only was he ahead, but he was facing two of the strongest drivers in the Piston Cup, had been a whole lap down, and had managed to pull through at the very end. This was everything he could have ever hoped it to be and more. First place was his, he had won in one of his toughest races fairly, Dinaco was his, and at the end of the day he had friends to celebrate with. Everything—everything he’d been through was all culminating into this one moment of victory.
Coming across the final turn, he heard a sharp inhale through his headset. He smirked. Well Doc, there’s no need to act so surprised that he’d won! Glancing up at the display screen to watch as he approached the finish line his stomach plummeted as he realized what Doc had actually been gasping about.
There were probably a thousand things that were running through the minds of all the fans in the stands, of the medics who were likely already jumping into action, of all the people at home, and all the other racers who were watching. But there was only one thing Lightning thought in that moment. And it was of another racer who’d had his dreams seized from him and thrown out in a spiral of hatred only to end up in a small town where his bitterness solidified over the years. Lightning didn’t know The King very well, had only really met him twice, but knew he could never want any of that to happen to him.
Without thinking twice, he slammed on the breaks.
It was tough, pressing down on the pedal so hard and trying to prevent himself from spinning out from it, but he had run practices like this in case he needed to stop behind a collision and managed fairly good control. He stopped less than 5 meters from the finish line. Barely a second later, Chick’s car rocketed by, the checkered flag waving frantically. Somehow, the flag seemed to have lost its meaning. It was supposed to signify the end of the race but how could he end things like this?
With that thought in mind, he made a decision and put his car into reverse. He wasn’t quite as good at driving backwards as Mater was so he took it slow, checking the condition of The King’s car as he did so. It was still in one piece, though the wing was barely holding on and at least two of the tires looked deflated, but at least the car was right side up. The King hadn’t gotten out, but that could mean any number of things.
Lightning lined his window up with The King’s and peered inside. Weathers had ditched his helmet, but there was no blood to be seen so he was probably out of immediate danger. There was no smell of gas so the car must have held together fairly well despite how it looked. His hands were on the steering wheel and he was leaning his forehead against it, not looking up. His knuckles were white, but he didn’t look to be in too much pain.
“Hey, Mr. The King? You okay?”
The racing legend looked up, a sort of resignation pushing down on his shoulders that jerked up in confusion, followed by a wince. “Rookie…” He sagged slightly. “I’m alive. That’s one thing I got going for me at least.”
There was no small amount of relief that Lightning felt at being reassured. “Think you can put the car in neutral?”
Weathers’ confusion seemed to double, but with some pained motions he managed. “Wha…What are you doing?”
“Don’t you think The King deserves to finish his last race? Hold on, I’m gonna see if this works.” Lightning backed up his car.
The injured driver finally looked up to the board and saw Chick in first with Lightning’s place not yet posted. It took a few moments for the information to put itself together in his head. Once it did, he attempted to look back at the kid but gave up when his ribs protested painfully. Instead, he just raised his voice to be heard. “Did you give up the Piston Cup for me? Why would you do that?”
Lightning couldn’t help but chuckle a little, even as he tried to focus on lining up his car behind The King’s. A week ago, he wouldn’t have given up his first place trophy for anything in the world. “It’s like this old guy once told me. It’s just an empty cup.”
The nose of the Rust-Eze stock car was able to get under the Superbird’s back bumper and with the car in neutral Lightning was able to push it forward at a steady 8 mph. The power steering apparently didn’t work anymore because he could see Weathers struggling with the wheel but between the two of them they were able to get the wreckage across the finish line. The sound of cheers lit up the entire stadium—not a single person was sitting down silent as they crossed. It wasn’t the cheer of earning first place, of breaking records, or putting his name in the history books, but it was the most fulfilling sound Lightning had ever heard. Of each and every person cheering for them.
They didn’t get much further than the finish line before the medic team came driving up, hurrying to help Weathers out of the wreckage and to do a check on him. Lightning pulled his car up next to them and got out, keeping a certain distance away to give them all some space but wanting to get the word on his condition before he just drove back to the pits. He checked that his team was okay with waiting up for a bit and was met with a chorus of “take your time!”
After about twenty minutes of them doing several different checks and asking about pain, they gave Weathers some medication and started leading him to the medic car to bring him to the nearest hospital to get a full check.
“That’s okay,” he said, waving them off. “I think I’ll catch a ride with Lightning if it’s all the same.”
Lightning felt no small amount of pride at that.
The medic team grumbled unhappily about it, but there was only so much they could do with their mobile unit anyway and as long as Weathers got to the hospital for a full diagnosis by the end of the day they weren’t going to be strapping him down to a gurney. So Weathers got in Lightning’s car with him and Lightning drove them down to the sponsor tents where everyone and their mother was waiting for them.
Mrs. Weathers was the first to come running up to the car, looking simultaneously relieved and worried to see her husband climbing out of the car on his own. After giving him a once over, as if she could tell more about his condition than the medical officers could, she pulled him into a gentle hug. Lightning gave them their moment, watching with a smile on his face as they both were just glad to be able to hold each other once again. When she was done, Junior quickly filled her place, making sure his father was okay.
After sending another watery look to her husband, she turned to Lightning and before he could say anything had pulled him into a hug as well. “Thank you,” she said before drawing back again.
“Your welcome,” he answered gently and the family focused on one another. This time felt more private so he quickly turned away, looking for where his friends were. He spied the Rust-eze tent nearby. His car would be fine where it was for the moment, he just wanted to regroup with everyone. He didn’t get far though when he heard someone calling his name. Turning, he saw Tex Dinaco jogging over from the Dinaco tent, holding his big, cowboy hat in place with his hand.
“Glad I caught you before the cameras did,” he said, shooting a look over to where the men and women with microphones were standing, unable to cross the line between them. It looked like they were all there at the sponsor tents rather than at the winner’s circle even though the ceremony should already be going. “Listen,” Tex let out a huff, then put his hands on his hips and chuckled, “what you did out there today? That was real racing. I haven’t seen that kind of sportsmanship in over twenty years. I just want to say that you should be proud of what you did today. And let you know that I’m proud of you too. Proud enough that I have an offer for you.” He smiled, a wrinkly but kind expression. “How would you like to be the new face of Dinaco?”
Lightning was shocked. He looked over to the baby blue tent to see that anyone on the team that wasn’t watching the Weather’s reunite was watching the two of them with measured excitement. Dinaco wanted him. He turned back to Tex with astonishment. “But…I didn’t win.”
Tex just laughed. “Son, there’s more to racing than just winning.”
The wording, the meaning behind it, reminded him of Doc. He turned back to look at the Rust-Eze tent. Everyone was standing in front, chatting and laughing with one another about something Lightning couldn’t overhear. Rusty and Dusty had seemingly already charmed the majority of the Radiator Springs folk as they said something and everyone laughed in response. Luigi and Guido were rushing around the tent, finding tools and either excitedly showing one another what they found or searching for something to test them on. Sarge and Fillmore were talking with an interviewer who had snuck past the barrier, seeming completely composed and at ease in front of the camera despite how they were clearly disagreeing with one another again. Mater snort-laughed with the Rust-Eze guys and Mack. Doc chuffed with everyone else before his gaze moved over and Lightning locked eyes with him for a moment. His new crew chief gestured for him to come join them.
Lightning couldn’t help but grin at the sight. “Thank you, Mr. Dinaco, but…I think I want to stick with the Rust-Eze team for a little longer, if that’s okay.”
Tex smiled fondly and nodded. “You’ve got a good set of people on your side. I don’t blame you for wanting to stand by them. But the offer stands. You’re a good racer and I think we could both benefit from you joining my team. In the meantime, if there’s anything I can do for you, you just name it. I figure I have a lot to pay you back for after everything you’ve done for us today.”
Taking his eyes off his friends, Lightning looked back at Tex to nod in appreciation. “Thank you, sir, really.” He paused, a thought coming back to him that he’d almost forgotten about before a grin stretched across his face. “There is one thing that I can think of that I’d like some help with. That is, if you don’t mind?”
Chuckling, Tex raised a bushy eyebrow. “You name it, son.”
->'v'<-
“Dag-un ya’ll would not believe how much fun that there heli-copter ride was!”
Mater had walked into Flo’s diner half an hour ago and had not shut up about his incredible ride in the helicopter ever since. Everyone was there that night, well, almost everyone. A good majority of the town had gotten together earlier that evening at the community center for a democratic vote of whether to allow the Rust-Eze Racing Co. to build their racing headquarters for 95 in their town. All the shop owners who weren’t too busy to attend had come by for the short amount of time it took Doc to lay out what all that entailed followed by a quick, nearly unanimous vote to allow it. Lightning, thrilled that his residency had more or less become permanent with the verdict, had said the first round of milkshakes at Flo’s was on him.
He was buying a lot of milkshakes that night, but he didn’t much mind. Flo was busy, but just enough that she kept a real smile on her face every time she got up to attend to the other customers in the diner. She had been sighing all week about how she would have to go about hiring a few waiters or waitresses if business continued picking up as it had been. Although everyone could tell behind the gentle pout she was absolutely brimming with happiness.
Everyone had been getting more business in the last week than they had in the past year. Apparently, Radiator Springs was the place to be for any and all kinds of racing fans. After the string of attention that Lightning had gathered leading up to and during the Piston Cup finals people were curious about the little town the racer’s pit crew had popped out from. Not to mention all the Hudson Hornet fans who just would not leave town until they’d caught a candid photo of the legend himself. Thus far everyone who was visiting had been from within the state aside from some diehard fans, but the crowd flow was expected to pick up over time. Especially with the racing headquarters going into its construction phase.
Rusty, Dusty, and Mack were all there for the next couple days as well, mostly to set a few things in motion for the headquarters, but were at the moment entertaining the Radiator Springs lot. The Rust-Eze brothers had taken to Lizzie rather quickly as the three of them could each separately talk the ear off an elephant. When Mater had gotten back from his flight around the county, the four had sat themselves down at their own table in the center of everything, switching between telling long-winded stories and interjecting into the conversations of those around them. The four were so energetic and happy to talk to everyone that their chatter was as warm and constant as the neon lights that streamed in through the windows from the street.
Mack was getting along really well with Red, Sarge, and Fillmore as each traded stories about their incredibly different yet thorough lives. Lightning was learning more about Mack just by listening into their conversation than he had ever known about the guy. He never would have guessed the big trucker had been a voice actor once upon a time. Sarge and Fillmore each had a plethora of stories having to do with some such war and some such spiritual gathering, respectfully. It seemed like they were trying to outdo each other as each story got wilder than the last. Red nostalgically recalled some tales from when he had been going through firefighter training and how he’d worked in Austin, Texas for a time before deciding that work in a large city with a big team just wasn’t comfortable for him.
Lightning had been zoning in and out of all these conversations, happy to just listen in for once rather than lead the discussion. His arm was around Sally’s shoulders as she leaned into him, sipping on a chocolate milkshake she had one-hundred percent stolen from him after she’d finished the strawberry one she’d started with. She had offered him a peck on the cheek as payment but he could not scrub the feeling of betrayal he had. Sally could kiss him all she wanted; the loss of that milkshake would leave a hole in his heart forever.
His attention lazily drifted back to his own table’s conversation when Doc clicked his tongue and Sheriff laughed at the other man’s annoyed expression.
“You didn’t actually think I had no clue did you?” Sheriff said, the ends of his mustache tipped with the pink of his own strawberry milkshake.
Doc grumbled. He had gotten coffee instead of a milkshake because he was a snub. “Figured that if anyone recognized me that they’d mention it when I first got here.”
Sheriff shrugged. “Thought if you wanted someone to notice then you woulda gone around wearing a patched up jacket like the kid here. Or maybe driving that car around that you apparently still have?”
He was met with another grunt and the gathered company chuckled. “Didn’t think anyone here was all that interested in racing. ‘Sides Luigi and Guido.”
Luigi, for his part, sniffed a little, as if still put out about the fact that he had not realized that their mayor was a racer, let alone a legend. “I do not follow the American circuit! The European circuit has much more finesse, bah!”
“Lo sapevo!” Guido said, grinning happily.
His friend gasped dramatically. “You did not!”
“L’ho fatto!”
“Why did you not tell me!?”
“Non hai mai chiesto!”
Ramone chuckled. “How do you two do that? Talk in two different languages like it’s the same thing?”
“Bah!” Luigi said, although he puffed up proudly. “Being bilingual is a chore when there is only one other person who can speak both your languages! Guido speaks Italian so I don’t forget and I speak English so he doesn’t forget.”
“Easy peasy!” Guido piped up and as always it was a bit startling to hear him speak English.
“I guess that makes sense,” Lightning conceded before attempting to capture the straw to Sally’s milkshake with his teeth.
She pulled it away from him. “Get your own!”
He could see the teasing look in her eyes and scowled playfully. “I did and some little valley girl stole it from me!”
The laughter distracted her enough that he could finally steal a sip again. Victory! Lightning McQueen has won the Chocolate Cup!
“Speaking of the American Circuit,” Doc said, bringing the conversation back around, “we’ve got some time until the racing for the Piston Cup starts up again. I figure that we can use a bit of that time to get some training in for your pit crew. We pulled it together in that last race, but things are just going to get tougher from here on out.”
Ever since Doc had come out about his origins and had been accepted by the town all over again he couldn’t seem to stop talking about racing. It was either this about getting on the track and doing laps or that about exactly how many miles it was away to the closest speedway. It was this about how his experience as a racer perfectly folded into his new career as a crew chief or that about how Lightning had big shoes to fill. It was nice to see the regularly crotchety guy go on about the subject and all the plans he had for the future, but for once Lightning almost wished they wouldn’t talk about racing and could just enjoy the night.
…
Hah, as if! He’d always be happy to talk about racing.
“I bet Sarge would love a couple of drills to run,” he said with a chuckle, looking over to the table as if to ask them what they thought.
“You’d be part of the training too, hotshot.”
He sat up a little straighter. “What? Seriously? Why would I need to be there?”
Ramone laughed outright but Doc snorted, looking thoroughly amused at having riled the rookie up. No, not rookie anymore. “There’s a lot more to having a pit stop done than just sitting around and waiting for everyone to do their jobs. You gotta listen to the folks around you, gotta learn to trust them, let them be your eyes and trust ‘em to look out for you just as much as you’re looking out for yourself.”
Brows furrowing, Lightning thought that over. He had made leaps and bounds with genuine social interactions in the last couple of weeks but he wasn’t sure he was quite ready for that kind of level yet. “I dunno…”
“C’mon Patches,” Sally said, leaning up so she could kiss his chin and halt any kind of thought process he’d had. “It’s not so bad to trust someone now and then. Unless you don’t think you can handle a little bit of training.”
What had seemed like a nervous idea just a moment ago had turned into a challenge in only a few words. Oof. This woman was dangerous. “I’m up for anything you can throw at me, old man.”
“You got it, kiddo,” he shot back.
“McQueen!” Mater said, suddenly leaning over their booth so that his face was hovering an inch away from Lightning’s.
The racer leaned back, if only so that the smell of root beer float wasn’t being blown into his face with every word from his best friend. “Yeah, buddy?”
“Boy, next time you’s gotta come wit me on that heli-copter! It was so much fun!”
“You know, I’m more of a four-wheels on the ground kinda guy.”
“We could go parachooting!”
“Or, you know, not do that?”
“Skydiving!”
“I think if you’re jumping out of a helicopter you’ve gotta do both at some point.”
“Bungee jumping!”
“Are we still talking about a helicopter or is this something else?”
Sally piped up, “I think that sounds like a great idea!”
“Which one?” Mater asked, practically buzzing with excitement.
“All of them!”
Lightning angled his neck so he could look down at her dubiously. “Most girls want to see their boyfriends live.”
She equally met his gaze with one of cool amusement. “I do. I want to see you live it up.”
He felt like slapping his forehead but couldn’t quite manage it while also holding onto what had become a staring contest. “I could die.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh?”
“If you did I might just have to go to the European Circuit to find my new boyfriend. Mmm, a drive around the Italian coast in a Ferrari? Sign me up.” He scowled, losing the staring contest at the same time. She laughed and tugged on his jacket sleeve where the bolt was sewn in. “See? You wouldn’t leave me to some European racer, would you?”
“Good point.”
“It’s decided then!” Mater hollered, jumping away excitedly.
“Which one!?” Lightning called back, but the other man was already hurrying back to Rusty and Dusty to relay his plans.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sally said, tugging on his jacket once more before snuggling into his chest. “I’m sure he’ll tell you before it happens.”
“Hopefully not when it’s happening.”
Sheriff and Doc were talking about the possibility of re-opening the old drive-in movie theater that had been set up between two of the buttes years and years ago. Mater was attempting to convince Rusty and Dusty to go bungee-diving-parachuting out of a helicopter and the two seemed worryingly interested in the idea. Lizzie had turned around in her seat and had enraptured Red and Mack about the story of how she’d left New York as a young lady and made her way across the country on her own before meeting Stanley and settling down in Radiator Springs. Sarge was informing Fillmore that no he had no idea if gmo was a government conspiracy and no he didn’t want to find out. Luigi was explaining to Ramone that just because the artist knew how to use a air-pressurized spray gun did not mean he was qualified to give a car a paint job. Flo hopped back over, handing out a couple baskets of fries that had been made up for eager friends and family before sliding a new chocolate milkshake over to Lightning, who snatched it up before his girlfriend could steal that one too. She raised an eyebrow at him before turning away with a huff to chat with Flo as she slid into the booth with them.
Lightning leaned his cheek against the top of Sally’s head with a sigh, just drinking in the sound and the scenery for the moment. His friends were all around him, talking about the future or the past and everything in between. His childhood idol was sitting across the table from him, shining more brightly than any of those dusty trophies in his garage ever could. The girl of his dreams snaked her hand beneath the table so she could wind her fingers with his and squeeze his hand just slightly.
He smiled. It was good to be home.