Work Text:
chapter 1
it was actually a nice day not hot with the sun out luckily the wide made it nice a cool on ones skin. McQueen or Monty sometimes with blonde hair soaked with sweat finally finished his morning run to get the blood pumping before he needs to start practicing for the next pistol cup that's coming up in Spain. to be honest hes been doing okay in his racing… a lot of his old friends retired trying to save face and not to get burned out. he was still able to keep up but it does leave a toll on your body trying to keep up with the youngsters. the pains and acks his neck and legs are getting to him even if hes 42.
so far hes been keeping a good pace with first places but lately hes been getting seconds and third on bad races sometimes it is the reason from the whether but he was trained out of being scared of weather racing or terrain racing, especially when hes hanging with Mater.
as he continues to run he sees the Rust-eze racing training center its very close to the place him and Mac his brother are staying. the first time he went in the it was not quite welcoming and to be honest made his quite insecure..
Monty shakes the past insecurities away so he doesn't get stuck about the past.
again.
'if i remember correctly a lot the new drivers sing high praises for it.. i know i heard storm went to the this center to practice time to time..' he sees familiar competitors cars outside of the center which made Monty pause…
'maybe? maybe it wont be as bad as the first time?' McQueen thought about it. He glanced down at his white long-sleeve compression shirt red and yellow detailing, a bold 95 across the chest, checkered flags stretching across his back. Slightly sweaty, but he’d only just finished his run. It’s basically a gym, he reasoned.
He called Mac, letting him know where he was and asking him to bring his car over just in case.
Before he could overthink it, McQueen walked toward the entrance.
Again.
as he walks in he sees that not a lot of things changed there is a lot of high tech and a lot of boring Grey and white lounge so he decides to to walk 'if my memory isn't failing me' the same way when he was given the tour around.
he walks by the receptionist desk giving her his iconic smiles and just walks right by not seeing her shocked face as she starts getting a call in for her supervisors.
he walks through the metal doors feeling like hes in some kind of hospital with how clean everything is.
Still very… sterile.
he walks in and sees garages where people can bring their cars in so the can practice with them he also sees a lot of tread mills and and as he keeps walking he walks to a glass windows he sees a miniature track for racing and a lot of high class tech just everywhere.
Runners on treadmills paid him no mind at first.He offered polite smiles anyway. A small wave here and there.When a few finally did a double take, he gave a respectful nod.
He wasn’t here to make a scene.
Just looking.
That’s all.
he sees a small commotion happening in the a specific corner of the place and lots of shouting so he decides to see what the drama is about. As he walked, people began noticing him.One stumbled. Another nearly tripped off a treadmill. Someone’s face turned bright red.
McQueen blinked.
…Weird.
as he gets closer he sees some one in a car driving on a treadmill thingy cant remember the name of it, but it just helps them see how fast some can go… quite bring in my opinion
hes sees a gray car almost what you see in arcades when shooting games but more for racing the car fits people in a makes you go through different tracks and terrains and weathers almost realistic the car calculates all the the micro movement and reactions and speed to see how fast you can go. theirs also levels which is quite interesting.
'quite interesting if i say so' he watch a couple of young racers g through the simulation. this tech feels so futuristic that McQueen is getting whiplash.
'damn im getting old'
he watches and he can see how everything is working how to play this simulator game, he see that theirs a timer at the end of the the game and a lot of racers are trying to get the fastest and theirs probable a score bored by the groans hes hearing.
a bit of excitement serges in McQueen wanting to try the games simulator thingy out but he doesn't see a line so he goes to to a man that looks like trainer and taps on his shoulder.
Quietly he asks, “Hey man, where can I sign up to try this?”
The trainer doesn’t even look up, scoffing. “Buddy, the only way to try this training simulator is if you’re racing academy, and even then you’ll have to wait your turn. Just wait until everyone’s done, boy, if you even have a chance.” The man puffs his chest. “There are too many newbies thinking they can beat anyone here. There are 10 levels, and even then not most can get there.” He sneers again.
McQueen lets go of the trainer’s shoulder like he was burned by the guy’s attitude.
“Ugh, they all have the same attitudes since the day I came here.”
“Was I like this? Gosh, I was an asshole back then.” He just shakes his head as he goes to a corner to watch and see how everything still works and just wait out the group.
as the group was finally dispersing some going their separate way and some still taking in a groups. lightning decides that he can finally try the simulator out while no one was using it or paying attention. he crawls in closing the doors.
' it does feel like im in a racing cars..' he thinks he sees a helmet and puts it on.right after a hologram of a lady talking about rules how this simulator works. the lady explains that there are 10 levels and each one will get harder, this game will be monotering his body for safety he will experience the same force same same shakes it will also watch eye move meant and micro expressions watching his every movement and reaction speed. there was a warning that the G-force will be felt in this game which is quite interesting. so after he went through the rules he starts it.
"hey when do you think storm storm will come for practice?" one rookie asks. Flip Dover one of the close friend of storm just shrugs " In hour maybe soon? who know? the guy practices day and night trying to practice for the pistol cup that's coming up and so are we, but hes on a different level." he fidgets with brown hair. thinking back to how late storm stays to practice even when everyone leaves.
"damn no wonder!" the rookie laughs actionably but then scoffs " i mean sooner or later hes going to beat the lightning McQueen, we already can see that the old man barely can keeping up!" most rookies laugh either because it actually funny or they are just tiring to act tough in front of the the next racers and trainers to act like they are the hot shot.
Flips eyebrow twitches from that comment and looks over to his best friend Eric Baker short hair and slightly darker then his hair and bit curly, he also looks at him with a disgusted look on his face probably at the rookie who made that common Eric sucks at hiding his emotions so i give him a look so he quickly changes it as he stay silent.
they hear a ding from the simulator where most of them where trying it out and competing to see if anyone can beat Jackson Storm which is in first place highest time 2 min and 30 sec for going through all the ten levels. so far hes in first but im getting g second and Eric is third slowly going for my spot 'tch like ill let him' he thinks with a smirk on his face.they see that the simulator is being used again and hasent started probable going through the rules.
"pst another rookie probable tiring to get in the top 5 again" a rookie says like they also weren't competing as well 5 minutes ago and didn't make it. Flip just rolls his eyes as the the group of rookies continue to flaunt in front of them and not leaving them alone.
he gets a tap on his shoulder and a familiar smell of colon that comes from one person, Jackson storm he smiles and and turns around as he see a dead expression of no emotion like always like od bordom and annoyance.
"you want to practice with me im about to go an the treadmill?" he asks with a monotone deep voice. if I didn't know him ill think this guy has no other expression except bordem and annoyance but Jackson has is the most sarcastic person hes met and its hard to compete with him when it comes to wit or come backs well…. except lightning McQueen of course the man is a legend when it comes to come backs that there edits where he destroys racers and co workers or friends alike the guy is hilarious but nobody want to be the one getting roasted even in his prim years he he was brutal with his words he still remembers how he watched the 2006 Pistol cup where he destroyed Chick Hicks on screen, to be honest watching Chick Hicks and lightning McQueen rivalry is hilarious to a lot of viewers and fans. He was able to to shut Jackson down with just a couple of words literately first day too.
The simulator hums softly as it calibrates.
Flip barely glances at it at first. Another rookie trying to crack the leader board. It happens daily. They walk in confident, walk out humbled.
everyone is just keeps talking and whispering some are trying to get storms attention. i still look at the simulator as he talks with storm. " you sure you want to train with me man? i know you are trying to get first place and all but ill just drag you down with all my talking" he say with a shit eating grin looking back at storm. he see storms lips twitch trying not to smile but he just huffs instead. Eric pips up " you know man with all this working out nonstop when will you get a partner?" he start waggling his eyebrows, storm just shakes his head.
they all hear a beep and turn toward the simulator on the top level 1 done quiet fast but its level one so nothing much they continue to watch but with all the gossiping around them its getting annoying.
another beep goes of this one just as fast.
storm look at the clock on the wall then back the the game just watching probably zoned out or waiting for a turn after probable to see his progress again or something.
another bee goes off now more people are taking interest seeing how fast the beeps and level are being beat.
the another and another level eight and its if they keep going with such speed the just might..
Flip looks over to storm but his expression is very neutral not reveling any emotion or thought.
no whispering start all over again but now its focused on the person in the game and that's beating the levels like there nothing
Only three racers in the academy have ever cleared Level 8. him and Eric and storm of course level eight has a lot of rough turns and you need to know how to drift if you want to get past it.
they continue to watch then a beep goes of signaling an end to level eight to nine.
Flip exhales sharply.
And that’s when he was about to say something
The main double doors to the facility swing open harder than usual.
Heads turn.
The CEO of the entire Rust-eze Racing Center strides in suit sharp, expression tight. Grey hair almost silver like . The receptionist hurries behind him, slightly out of breath, followed by his personal assistant holding a tablet.
The room stiffens.
It’s rare for him to leave the upper executive floors. He scans the training area quickly, eyes sharp.
Then his gaze locks onto Storm.He walks straight toward the group.
“Storm.”
Storm straightens automatically. “Sir.”
The rookies glance at each other, confused. The CEO doesn’t waste time.
“Have you seen him?”
Storm’s brow furrows slightly, probably confused on why the manager is here in the first place. “Seen who?”
The receptionist speaks quickly, still catching her breath. “He just walked in earlier."
The CEO cuts in, voice lower now but urgent. “Lightning McQueen.”
The name hits the room like a shockwave.Several rookies visibly freeze like they just been caught.
everyone starts to look around ton maybe see the infamous driver, the celebrity, some of theirs hero and maybe childhood crushes.
Storm’s heart kicks once, hard.
“…He was here?” Flip asks carefully.
The CEO’s eyes scan the room again. “Yes. He entered the facility. We were notified at reception.”
Storm slowly turns his head toward the simulator dome. a chill going down his back.
The final sector is still running.
the manager fallows Storms line of sight. just as a loud bee is heard level ten has just been finished its flashing
The simulator emits a sharp, final tone.
The massive central display screen flashes.
LEVEL 10 — CLEARED
FINAL TIME: 1:54
its quiet for a moment then every person looks to the leader board open mouths gaping.
The leader board updates.
McQueen — 1:54
Jackson Storm — 2:30
Flip Dover — 2:41
Eric Baker — 2:44
'fuck' that's the only thing that pops in to Jackson's head. he looks around and everyone is watching the simulator some have awe struck eyes and some are just gaping like idiots.
he hears the door open the capsule and he see a man with blonde hair come out, 'definitely McQueen'.
he see the manager start to move forward and gives a a hand shake probably congratulating him for getting first in the leader and to welcome him here. McQueen just smiles but he does look uncomfortable that for sure, he does look over to where he his probable seeing a large crowd form trying to see him.
McQueen and the CEO are still talking when he sees McQueen eyeing the door but also looks at him and the other racers.
he starts walking toward him and
'shit hes walking toward him!!'
'OK Jackson you talked to him a couple of time your fine, why am i nervous?? i mean the couple times he did talk to McQueen the weren't that great' he tries to not grimace from the first race he ever done with McQueen, ' god i wish i did that differently…'
zoning back in he see the shorter blonde man standing a smiling in front of him.
after leaving the game which was quite fun i can say so, maybe he can invite his buddies to give this a try.. he gets out of his musing when he see a man with gray hair and some people behind him walking or speed walking towards him making him tense, he does relax a bit knowing it not the same man that gave him troubles the last time..
" Mr lightning McQueen! its so nice to meet you and congrats on you new score for the simulator Rt-20 you got a new time a everything! and I most say welcome for coming and visiting us here and im Charles by the way!" the CEO finish the little speech.
"thank you, i was just curious how the next generation is training, and can see the game was quite fun give you quite an adrenaline kick" he fake smile as Charles to talk away.
'fuck, maybe if i start walking ill be able to leave'
he looks at the door but something catches his eye a group the was looking at him.
then he see the blue and black jacket the very familiar… huh is that..
Jackson! of his little friends I see! the kiddos are quite fun to talk to, they do have some spunk when they are out of ear shot of cameras.
wait now that i think about it..
'I was invited to fun high class reunion or gala and I do have 4 tickets.. usually i would go with sally, mater and mac maybe some other guys from the town but this time they are getting ready for a new party for the town promoting their businesses.'
'…maybe they wont mind coming?"
before overthinking about his choice he just starts to walk up to the large group of people walking straight to Jackson, Flip and Eric giving them a smile.
Jackson just stares not saying much but that how he usually is i guess.
standing in front of the group he smile getting their attention.
McQueen chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Uh… hey guys.”
Still silence.
Flip finally coughs into his fist and nudges Jackson slightly. “Storm,” he mutters under his breath. “Your turn.”
Jackson straightens a little, clearing his throat.
“McQueen,” he says simply. God, that sounded stiff.
McQueen smiles at him though, like he doesn’t even notice.
“Storm. Flip. Eric, right?” he says, pointing at them one by one. Eric’s eyes widen slightly.
“You remember us?”
“Yeah,” McQueen shrugs. “We’ve raced together a couple times.”
Flip snorts quietly.
Raced together was a polite way of saying Jackson and him tried to beat the hell out of each other on the track.
everyone giving what they can on those tracks blood, sweat, tears…
McQueen shifts his weight slightly. “Actually,” he says, suddenly remembering something. The group looks at him.
“I kinda wanted to ask you guys something.”
Now everyone’s curious.
McQueen pulls out his phone for a second, glancing at the message again before looking back up.
“So… I got invited to this fancy gala thing tomorrow night,” he says.
Flip blinks.
“A gala?”
“Yeah,” McQueen nods. “Some high-class racing reunion event. Sponsors, old racers, media… that kind of stuff.”
“I got four tickets.”
Flip immediately looks between Jackson and Eric.
McQueen continues.
“Usually I’d bring Sally, Mater, Mack… maybe some people from Radiator Springs,” he explains. “But they’re busy helping set up a big town event back home.”
He pauses, glancing between them again.
“So I was wondering…”
“…if you guys maybe wanted to come.”
“You’re… inviting us?” Eric asks carefully.McQueen nods.“Yeah. Thought it might be fun.” Flip claps his hands together once “Oh I’m in.”
Storm shoots him a glare.
Flip shrugs. “What? I like free fancy food.”Eric laughs nervously“I mean… yeah. That sounds awesome.”
Then both of them slowly look at Jackson. Storm still hasn’t answered.
McQueen raises an eyebrow slightly.
“You good, Storm?”
Jackson blinks.
“…Yeah, um ill come..” smooth Jackson, Flip thinks smirking.
"great!" He pulls out the tickets from his jacket and hands them over. “Event starts at eight tomorrow night.”
Flip grabs one immediately.Eric carefully takes another.Jackson takes his last.
as lightning McQueen about to leave a journalist ' how the hell did they get in here" Jackson thinks
"excuse me Mr lightning McQueen I'm doing a magazine on racers.. may i ask a couple questions?" the journalist looks about 16 maybe 18 "its um.. for my school.."
McQueen just miles his eyes going soft "of course anything for a future journalist" giving his winning smile that got him into a bunch of news anchors and newspapers making the poor kid blush and some people around.
"um mm.." the kid scrambles for a recorder and the piece of paper that had the questions "first question..Mr lightning McQueen sir on all the racer on or off track what will be your top speed that you went?"
McQueen crosses his arms in thought, a lot of people left to go back to training but a lot mostly stayed to listen to so gossip or just see whats going on having nothing better to do.
"very good question.. the fastest i went for racing would be 300.. i mean in my prime haha i was such a dumb kid thinking its fine gassing it without stop haha"
jaws dropped, but he continued without noticing.
“To be honest, a couple of years ago my friend Mater entered a competition with rockets, trying to see how fast cars could move if modified. I, of course, did not trust the little science experiment, but before my best friend could do anything, the rockets just started propelling him quite fast.”
Some people around them lean in closer.
“I had to stop him, of course, because he was headed for a big ravine. Anyway, I believe my top speed with adrenaline trying to catch up to my friend Mater was around 450 mph… maybe 600 mph. It’s between those numbers.”
He shrugs casually.
“But yeah, that was off track.” He smiles a little. “Good memories.”
Around him, the room goes silent.
Several racers are staring at him like he was some alien or has another head.
Flip slowly turns toward Jackson.
“…Did he just say six hundred miles per hour?”
The journalist’s eyes go wide for a moment, clearly trying to process the four hundred… maybe six hundred miles per hour comment, but then he shakes himself out of it quickly.
“Oh—uh—thank you, sir,” the kid says nervously, scribbling something down while his recorder continues running.
The racers around them are still staring. Jackson hasn’t moved.
Flip slowly leans toward Eric.
“…I thought the rocket thing was just a rumor.”
Eric whispers back, “I thought it was exaggerated as well..”
“Second question!” he blurts. “What was the most dangerous race you’ve ever been in?” McQueen hums softly, thinking.
“Hmm… that’s a tough one.”
He scratches his chin.“Well, there was that time I raced through a Europe with exploding oil tankers everywhere" "to be honest i don't think i can say much because the queen said something about..anyways ” he says casually smiling tying to down play it.
The kid’s pen freezes.
“…exploding?”
“Yeah,” McQueen nods. “My friend Mater accidentally got involved with some spy stuff, so there were missiles, oil rigs, a few secret agents… the usual.”
The entire group of racers goes silent.Jackson blinks slowly 'what the fuck' is all he can think.
Flip mouths what the hell to Eric.
McQueen continues like he’s talking about grocery shopping.
“Oh! And there was that race in Tokyo where I accidentally caused a huge pileup on a drift corner.”
The journalist scribbles faster.
“That was a mistake though,” McQueen adds quickly. “Sally didn’t let me forget it for months.” his checks become red from embarrassment.
“Okay—next question!” the journalist says, gaining confidence now.
“Have you ever… crashed?”
“Oh yeah,” he says easily.
“Plenty of times.”
He leans back slightly against the wall, clearly getting comfortable now.
“My worst one was probably in the desert during the Piston Cup a few years back.”
Several racers straighten.
They know that race. the regret and guilt flashed on the three racers especially Storms.
“That was the crash that messed up my engine pretty badly,” McQueen continues. “Had to relearn a lot of stuff after that. my knees got messed up and back that's for sure sometimes it still hurts.” McQueen doesn’t sound bitter.
"to be honest..this crash made me think a bit on my new other races and made me realize to actually stop pushing myself so hard, it was a hard pill to swallow" he shacks his head with a smile.
The journalist nods respectfully
Then his expression brightens again.“But the scariest thing that ever happened wasn’t a crash.”
Everyone leans in.
The journalist’s pen hovers over the paper.
“What was it?” he asks.
McQueen chuckles. “Driving backwards at 200 mph.”
"haha it was 2006 i believe?.. During the final race in California for the tie breaking pistol cup I believe..? sadly i didn't win it but hey its fine by me not everything is about winning hah aha thanks to thunder coughs i mean Chick had to drive backwards for that race, I'm still holding a grudge on that.. god he was annoying as hell back then." McQueen shrugs like it was nothing.
but that nothing was something for a lot of fans and future racers.. it was core memory for everyone that was watching it.
That race got replayed everywhere,News channels, racing magazines, highlight reels.
The veteran racer Strip "The King" Weathers was in second place, trailing Lightning McQueen. but something happened on the race and The King suffered a violent rollover crash, flipping multiple times and sustaining severe body damage that left him unable to drive.
Unlike some cars, The King was an older model and lacked roof flaps, which are safety features designed to prevent cars from becoming airborne when they spin backwards.
McQueen slammed on his brakes, stopping just short of the finish line and allowing Chick Hicks to win the race. McQueen then reversed back to the damaged King and used his bumper to push him across the finish line.
it was a significant moment in history when that race happened hailing that the best sportsmanship in history. after that day he became everyone's hero.
When asked why he gave up the cup, McQueen simply stated, "I think The King should finish his last race."
" to be honest when i decided to help Weathers, the only thing i could think of was my mentor.." McQueen frowned
"Mr Doc right?" the kid pipes up.
"That's right! that old man gave me a lot of good pointers.. to be honest he taught me to do a lot of stuff theirs time i don't even know how to compete with him. hes just a very stubborn old man sometimes pain in the butt" smiles down at the kid making the kid giggle "and also one of my heroes as well..he made me the way I am today." he said with a gentle smile
Jackson remembers the race like it was yesterday he was training in the gym and the race was on people were more focused on the race then their work outs cheering on the racers even though they wont be heard they all watch as one more lap was at stake. the the crash happening make everyone pause breathing it was bad.. but watching THE lighting McQueen stop before the finish line just to go back was worth the loud cheers and hugging, even if he was against hugs and touching that race gave him the push to keep on going.
The journalist flips his page again, looking more excited than ever.
“Last question!”
McQueen nods “Go ahead.”
The kid looks up from his paper, meeting his eyes.
“After everything you’ve done… all the races, the crashes, the wins, the losses—”
He swallows.
“Why do you still race?”
The room quiets.
Even the distant hum of the simulators feels quieter.
McQueen doesn’t answer right away.
For the first time since the questions started, he actually pauses.
His gaze drifts past the journalist.
Across the training floor.
The simulators.
The tracks on the screens.
The younger racers watching him some trying to hide it, some not.
For a moment, he looks like he’s somewhere else entirely.
Then he genially smiles
“The speed,” he says simply.
The journalist blinks, quickly writing it down.
But McQueen isn’t done.
“The feeling right before the race starts… when everything goes quiet for a second,” he continues, voice calm. “Your engine’s running, your heart’s pounding, and you know once that green light hits nothing else matters.”
“You’re not thinking about winning,” he adds. “You’re not thinking about losing.”
A small pause.
“You’re just driving.”
The journalist’s pen slows.
McQueen’s eyes flicker slightly, something softer there now.
“And yeah… the competition’s part of it,” he says with a small shrug. “Pushing yourself. Seeing how far you can go.”
" and no matter how many haters" he chuckles " or negative thoughts go through your head, You can use anything negative as fuel to push through to the positive, racing is a reward not stuff"
McQueen gives a small chuckle as he looks a the kid.
“Hope that helps your article.”
The journalist nods quickly “It does. Thank you, Mr. McQueen.”
McQueen gives a small wave and a smile before leaving.
“No problem.”