Work Text:
"I know your life . . .On earth was troubled . . . And only you could know the pain . . . You weren't afraid to face the devil . . . You were no stranger to the rain."
The song reverberated through the garage as Pops cursed under his breath. Maybe it was because of the song. Maybe it was because the car he was working on was being rather difficult. Either way, he was not having a very good time. Why did the radio station have to play that damn song?
"I'll never get any work done at this rate," he growled to himself as he walked away from the car. His eyes were wet. Again. He paused for a moment to listen to the song.
"Go rest high on that mountain . . . Son, your work on earth is done . . .Go to heaven a shoutin' . . . Love for the Father and Son."
Pops sighed raggedly then slumped into a chair. In a far corner of the garage sat a car covered with a tarp. He made quite sure that he never looked at it. The memories that came with that car were far too painful for him to bear remembering.
'Yet, that's all I do. Remember. He loved that car. God, did he ever love that car. More than what I did and I built it!'
Slowly, Pops turned his head and looked at the covered vehicle. Even under the tarp, the Mach 5 had a very distinctive shape. Despite his desire to not remember, that's all Pops had done since the day his son passed away unexpectedly into the night.
"Oh, how we cried the day you left us . . . We gathered round your grave to grieve . . . I wish I could see the angels faces . . . When they hear your sweet voice sing."
Somehow, Pops had made his way to the Mach 5. A hand rested gently on the hood, a hand that did not belong to Pops. He blinked then it was gone.
"Go rest high on that mountain . . . Son, your work on earth is done . . . Go to heaven a shoutin' . . .Love for the Father and Son."
"Oh, my boy," Pops whispered, tears threatening to take over his eyes. "I wish I could have told you more just how much I love you."
Pops rested a hand on the hood of the Mach 5, his head bowed in reflection. The car would never see another race. He had already vowed that. If Speed wasn't around to drive the car then no one would. His own tribute to his son.
"Give them hell on wheels up there, Speed. You were the best. I love you more than what you could ever know."
Pops turned and walked away from the Mach 5. He had a car to fix and another to design. Pops Motor Factory would be sponsoring another racer but, in the meantime, Pops was content to do what he did best and believe that his son, the one who had done him proud, was in a much better place, healthy and happy. And racing to his heart's content. Somewhere, up above, someone smiled.
"I know, Pops. I love you, too."