Work Text:
“You have to, kid.” Doc’s voice crackled over the phone speakers, but even then, Lightning heard his exhaustion, heard the shortness of temper. He heard them, but only just barely above the quick beating of his heart that drowned out all rational thought.
“No, I really don’t.”
“I already called Hollis down. You’re not going to go out there without a crew chief so help me God.” Doc’s voice rasped on the other line like it hadn’t been used for days. That scared Lightning even more.
His mentor had a heart attack three days ago at six fifty-three A.M. The timestamp felt burned into his brain from looking at his outgoing calls from that night.
Lightning remembered hearing a yell for his name that woke him up and struck fear into his body. He called 911 the second he saw Doc lying there with wide, panicked eyes, barely able to speak in pain.
The thing about being a doctor in Radiator Springs was that if you were sick, there wasn’t any other doctors around. So Lightning and the sheriff struggled getting into the police car. Sheriff pushed 100 mph with his sirens on, which Lightning had never seen him do before, and they managed to make it to the emergency room in just under thirty minutes.
Doc just kept snapping at him every single time he asked and what does it feel like now? You okay? Now? Nothing’s changed? Are you light headed? Every single second had felt like an eternity.
That night had been one of the most terrifying nights of his life.
But this?
This was one of the most frustrating.
“Doc, I did it alone before you. I can do it alone again. You’re only going to be there for a few more days, then you’ll be back and it’ll be fine,” he tried to reason, holding his phone in the crook of his shoulder and chin as he grabbed his racing suit.
Lightning would lose it if he heard anybody else on the other side of the headset. He was perfectly sure Catherine Hollis was a wonderful crew chief who knew her stuff. She kinda had to be with the amount of years and wins under her belt as a crew chief, but she wasn’t Doc. Nobody was Doc.
“I’m not arguing with you. You’re racing with a crew chief.”
“I already have one, Doc! It’s you!”
“Well, now you have another.”
“No! I don’t want another.”
“Tough.” Doc was snappy. He’d been pushing this ever since he realized he wouldn’t be able to make the race. Lightning had almost stayed in Kingman to be with Doc, but he’d refused to let Lightning even try to stick behind.
“Doc. Don’t make me,” Lightning pleaded. There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment. Lightning heard the beeps of the heart monitors.
“I ain’t gonna let you go out there without someone watching your back.”
“I only got into a minor crash without a crew chief. The rest of the time I've been with you!"
“I know that.” He heard Doc sigh on the other end. “It’s for my peace of mind. You think I don’t want to be down there?”
“I really wish you were.”
“I do too, kid. I do too. But I’m not. And- And maybe it’ll be good for you to drive with other people on head-set.”
“Why would it be good?” Lightning really hoped Doc wasn’t implying what he thought.
“I’m not young, rookie. I just had a heart attack and-”
“Doc. I need you to stop.” Lightning took a deep, shaky breath. He had laid out his racing suit, but now he slid down onto the floor of his motor-home and sat with his legs crossed. If this were a normal racing day, Doc would be in the other room, yelling at him to get ready. Why couldn't it be a normal racing day? “You can’t talk like that. Not before I have a race. Not if you want me to drive with Cathrine.”
“I’m sorry.”
Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes. Lightning wiped them away the instant they appeared. “The doctors said that it wasn’t bad. You’re going to be fine.”
“I’m going to be fine, kid. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you.”
“Then you can’t say stuff like that.”
Lightning could practically see Doc’s pursed lip expression. He knew that Doc wanted to say so much more that Lightning absolutely did not want to hear right now.
“Isn’t it about time you got yourself to the track?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to let Hollis in the box?”
Screw it. If it made Doc stand down. “I'll do it.”
“Really?”
“I’ll race with her. For your peace of mind. And I’ll hate it. And you owe me.”
“Thank you, kid.” Lightning heard his sigh of relief from the other end of the line. He got up from the floor. “Good luck out there.”
“I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“See you at the finish line.”
He ended the call and tossed his phone onto his bed. Screw Doc for doing this to him. Now he had to go and just do the Lightyear 400 like nothing was wrong. With a whole new crew chief he’d never met before.
It'd be fine next week. Next week Doc might even be back. Next week he’d never have to see this Cathrine Hollis person ever again.
Lightning made his way out to pit row after changing into his racing suit. He plastered on his usual bright grin as the reporters took their pictures, chatting to them whenever they forced a question on him.
Did they even know that Doc wasn't here, right now?
“Lightning!” Bobby ran up to him, tackling him into a hug. “Hey buddy. How are you holding up?”
Lightning’s smile turned into more of a grimace. He'd told Bobby about the heart attack after he hadn't shown up for qualifiers. “Doc’s making me race with another crew chief.”
“You went solo for a while there, though?”
“I told him that.”
“Huh. Well. You’re gonna kill it.”
“Thanks, Bobby.”
“Doc’s gonna be proud.” They walked over to pit row together. Bobby gave him a small punch on his shoulder, a show of sympathy.
“I hope so.”
“My place is open afterwards if you wanna talk or hang or anything.”
“I appreciate that.” They came up to the hustle and bustle of a race nearly about to start. Bobby gave him one last hug.
“See you soon.”
“See you, Bobby.”
With a grin, Bobby raced over to #19, and Lightning went on to his pit.
“Lightning!” Luigi yelled in greeting. “Here-a he is!”
“Nice to see you,” Lightning smiled. At least his usual pit-crew was still here. Sheriff and Sally had stayed behind with Doc, Flo was keeping the town all running. Otherwise, everyone had stuck with him. Lightning really appreciated it.
“Heya, buddy,” Mater grinned, the taller man squeezing him into a bone-crushing hug. Lightning laughed.
“You’re going to break something, Mater.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” a new voice said. Lightning removed himself from the hug to find a taller woman with deep brown skin and a bright smile wearing a #95 crew shirt.
“You must be Ms. Hollis,” he greeted, extending his hand for a handshake.
“Cathy’s fine,” she smiled. “Let's get you sorted, then. I’ll be pretty hands off with you, Hudson’s already warned me that you’re not a fan of too much guidance. Which I respect.” Lightning wished he could just hate her on the spot, but she seemed nice. It was almost frustrating.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m really not.” She was fine. Perfectly fine. Probably really communicative and great, but she wasn’t Doc.
“Let's talk strategy. We’ve got fifteen ‘til racers are supposed to be in their cars.”
As his new crew chief talked at him, Lightning’s mind was on anything but the race. He answered her questions, gave nods when it seemed like he should, but he couldn’t focus.
It had been six years since he’d done a race without Doc. Six incredible years. Now Doc was laying in a hospital ICU and Lightning couldn’t even be there with him.
How was he supposed to just do this today?
Lightning loved racing. But today, he hated that it was his job.
Was it too late to drop out?
“Looks like they’re calling racers to the track,” Hollis mentioned, breaking his train of thought. “Good luck out there. It’s an honor to be out here with you.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Lightning said dimly, beginning to make his way out to the #95.
The acrid smell of oil and gasoline filled his lungs once he got out to the track. Usually it was a smell that made him smile, that signaled it was time to get into the headspace of a racer. Today, it brought him dread.
He climbed in through the window and got himself sorted with all the buckles and straps. Guido and Sarge checked him over and gave him a thumbs up. They reinstalled the netting.
It was go time and yet he felt so divorced from the track around him.
“Hear me okay, Lightning?”
“Hearing you loud and clear, Cathy.”
“Drive like you always do, I’ll let you know if anything’s weird out there.”
Thanks, he thought bitterly, great advice.
Lightning drove into formation next to #78, near the back since he didn’t make it to qualifiers. They creeped up on the starting line, the pace-car keeping everyone in line.
This race was going to be rough.
“You’re a few seconds away from start and- Go!”
The track whirled to life around him. The roars of engines drowned out his thoughts. Lightning gripped the wheel as he came onto turn one, already passing a few cars on the inside. #47 blocked him immediately.
The other racers didn’t like to make it easy. They were always more combative with him, which usually wasn’t a problem when he was in first, but when he was starting out here? More of a problem.
“You have a gap outside,” he heard Hollis say. Lightning grit his teeth.
She didn’t know his car. She didn’t know his style.
“Thanks,” he huffed out, checking his left side. He could make it on the inside. With a little bit of a reckless jerk, he darted inwards and got his nose right up to #47’s left tire. The racer held steady, but Lightning pushed the #95’s speed and got ahead on the straight-away.
“I told you there was a spot.”
“And I said thank you.”
“I’m here for your benefit.”
“Okay, then could you just let me race?”
She fell silent. Lightning raced on, falling into his usual routine and passing as many cars as he could. It went fine. Perfectly fine.
Fifty more laps and three more awful, frustrating cautions later, Lightning was in eleventh.
Lightning knew this damn track, he knew his car. He knew when to ease off and he knew when to give it more gas. He also knew exactly what Doc would be saying. At every turn he could practically hear his voice. Quit it, kid. Get off their bumper he heard when he kept hugging #33.
What he didn't know, however, was how annoying hearing Hollis' voice would be. Every single time, it startled him out of his groove.
“Give it space,” she’d told him. Lightning wanted to yell in frustration. He gave #33 a bit of room. More than he wanted to, less than he would if he was being smart.
“Who’s in the lead?” he asked later, twenty-five laps from the end, in seventh.
“I don’t see why you have to worry about that. Put your head down.”
“Just tell me.”
“I’ll tell you if you pass #14.”
“Why’s it so hard to tell me who’s leading?!” Frankly, he was feeling insulted. Lightning gripped the wheel in frustration, wishing that he could just have the quickest talk with Doc, wishing that he wasn’t doing this awful race in the first place. Doc had a fucking heart attack and yet Lightning was here. And yet Lightning was just carrying on like everything was fine. With another crew chief.
The rest of the race was a blur. Lightning lost ground. He wasn’t careful enough up in the rubber and dinged the wall, sending him into a sway that he nearly didn’t recover from.
When he ended in thirteenth, Hollis was quiet on the other end.
Lightning didn’t care what she thought.
He exited his car as soon as he could, tearing off his gloves and his helmet and practically shoving them into Mater’s open hands. He could barely look at his friend’s expression.
“I’m going to clean up. See you, Mater.”
“See you, buddy.”
Lightning stalked off to his trailer and slammed the door behind him. He barely made it into his room before tears streamed down his face. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be racing, right now. He shouldn’t ever have anybody in that seat that wasn’t Doc.
Lightning grabbed his phone from where he tossed it and went straight to his calls, dialing Doc’s number. Doc answered on the second ring.
“I was watching,” he said without greeting.
“Don’t ever make me do that again,” Lightning insisted, his voice thick with emotion. He wiped his cheeks with the palm of his hand. “I don’t care. I don’t care what happens, I’m not racing while you’re in the hospital, and I’m never racing with anybody else as my crew chief.”
“Okay, okay. Lightning. Hey. Take a breath with me.” Lightning already felt better, hearing his voice. He complied, listening to Doc’s breathing through the speaker and matching it with his own, shaky breaths. “What happened. Talk to me.”
“Nothing! I just- She’s fine. I’m sure she’s fine. I just- She’s not you, Doc.” Lightning’s throat constricted again. He sat down on his bed and put his phone on speaker. “She just told me what she thought was right and I’m sure it’s fine advice, but I didn’t want to hear it. I don't trust it.”
“She raced for five years, she won quite a few times. She’s an even better crew chief.”
“She’s not you!”
Doc fell silent. Lightning felt a few more tears slip down his cheek.
“She’s not you and you’re in the hospital. And I’m not there.”
“I don’t want you to be here.”
“Tough. I’m leaving tonight.”
“Lightning, I don’t want you to fall behind. This is your life, this is what you do. I’m going to be fine and I’m going to get back out there with you in just a few weeks, but there’s no reason for both of us to be on the bench.”
“I don’t care! I really don’t care if I fall behind. Racing only started to mean anything when I started doing it with you and with our team. Racing isn’t my life, you guys are. I’m not doing this while you’re not okay, I’m not going to pretend like everything’s fine.”
“I’m going to be okay, son,” Doc’s voice was low with gravity. “I’m being taken care of. I’m going to recover.”
Hearing that loosened something in Lightning’s chest. It made him stop, helped his breathing even out. Lightning knew that Doc was going to be okay, but it was hard to believe it when he was in a hospital, hundreds of miles away.
“I’m not racing while you’re in the hospital,” Lightning insisted quietly.
“Okay.”
“I’m never going to have another crew chief.”
“Kid…”
“No. It’s not happening. I’d rather race alone. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.”
“We’ll see.”
That had to be enough, for now. Lightning flopped back onto his bed with a shiver. Today had sucked. It had sucked a lot.
“She didn’t tell me who was in the lead. I don’t know who won,” he mentioned with his voice half muffled in the sheets of his bed.
“Danny did. He put up a good fight with Yardley, but he beat him in the end.”
“No Cal?”
“Cal ended fourth. Bobby seventh.”
“Not bad. Better than thirteenth.”
“I finished thirtieth once.”
“What happened?” Lightning shifted so that the phone was right up next to his head. He could almost imagine Doc was in the room with him if he closed his eyes. He’d be leaning against the wall, looking down at him with a smile.
“My head mechanic was on leave at the same time that my old crew chief was dealing with some home stuff. Back in those days we didn’t have the head-sets, but it was hard. It was hard knowing he wasn’t able to give me pointers or check over the Hornet.”
It was Doc’s form of an apology, his way of saying that he understood.
“You’ll be here soon.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
“And I’ll be with you by tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to. I got Sally here, and she’s a great replacement.”
“I bet she is. I’m going anyway.”
“Hang out with your friends. I’ll bet they’re worried about you.”
“Yeah, well, I can just text them. I just want to get out of here.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Doc?”
“Yes, kid?”
Racing without Doc was something Lightning never wanted to do again. It wasn’t something he even wanted to think about. But right now, it was nearly all he could think about.
“I care a lot about you, old man.”
Lightning could hear an exhale from the phone speaker. They really never said those sorts of things to each other. They both felt it, they both knew they were important to each other, but it was never necessary.
“I know, kid, I do too. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The line clicked quiet as Doc hung up.
Lightning flopped back onto his bed, knowing that he was going to go back out there to people who were all going to be concerned about him, who were going to ask him why he’d placed lower than usual, why Doc wasn’t there. He knew he’d have to head right to Mack and tell him that they’d need to leave as quickly as possible.
He’d face it all, though. He’d face it in order to go and be there with Doc. If today had shown him anything, it was that racing could wait. His Radiator Springs crew, they couldn’t.