Chapter Text
As soon as he's in the cab with Mack, the waterworks start, roughly the same time as the truck's engine.
"Oh, kid." There's no banter, no joviality, just someone who's known and cared for a long time trying his best to help at a hard time. "I'm sorry, but we really gotta go."
"I don't wanna leave." It's whimpered out, an exact echo of words spoken years ago when things went to hell. When Dad decided he wasn't worth the trouble anymore. Flashes attack, catching the wet lines tracking down his face. Harv won't like that. "Why can't they go away?"
"Say no more." Mack presses his foot down, the truck immediately shooting off far ahead of the paparazzi, their consuming flashes dying down in the distance, along with the flickering colourful neon of the little town Lightning's come to love. There's a self-satisfied smile on the man's face. He'll get in trouble later for breaking the speed limit, but nothing more will come out of it than an exasperated chat and a fine if it comes to it. He slows down to the limit and holds the steering wheel one-handed, while searching in his glovebox. "Here," he says, passing a packet of tissues over. "Must be one heck of a place if you wanted to stay so bad you'd miss the race."
It was. It is. And once the race is run, there'll be another, and another. No more friends, no more peaceful drives, no more being woken up by a war veteran and a hippie arguing like a married couple. The town had shown a part of life he'd been missing, people he'd needed and wanted him around. Not because of who he was, but because for whatever reason they liked him. The thin plastic crackles in his hands, tissue tearing as he pulls it out. The salt burns his skin. "They're what I was looking for. That kind of thing." Family. It was a family. But he found it so hard to talk about that he didn't, although he was certain Mack had guessed it for himself through little puzzle pieces Lightning had accidentally left over the years.
"You do have a thing. You know, Rusty and Dusty were freaking out. They thought they'd get a ransom for you, and when a couple days passed, we thought..." Mack's body stiffens. His hand reaches out again, this time grabbing his shoulder. "I thought something had happened I'd never forgive myself for."
He's feeling guilty? But it wasn't his fault. "I made you keep driving. It was my fault, Mack."
"I lost you."
"Because I was being a jackass and wouldn't let you sleep." Right now, he still hears the Sheriff threatening to arrest him if; 'you don't get to bed and get some shut-eye this goddamn minute.' Second grumpiest man in town, but was damned if he was going to let his prisoner come to harm while carrying out the sentence. And there Lightning had been not even a week ago making his sleep-deprived driver continue. "I don't want you to feel bad. It was my fault."
Mack looks at him strangely. He's right to. A week ago Lightning would never have admitted fault. "I take it all-nighters are gonna be a thing of the past now, huh?"
"Yeah. You've always been there at tough times and you deserved better than that. I'm sorry."
That gets an even bigger look of curiosity. Mack swerves the truck to the side of the empty road, parks it up, and unclips his seatbelt before wrapping his burly arms around Lightning. He's a big guy, comes from a line of lumberjacks. The height and structure was proof enough even if he doesn't say. But for some reason, it takes Lightning back to Flo, whose first embrace came from when he found and returned a lost crate to her from when he'd crashed into her town. 'Thank you, honey. Get in here and have some breakfast.' She always made him pancakes with a smile drawn on with syrup. Like a mom would. "I'm always here for you, kid. Not just a job perk."
Brought back to the awful present, Lightning blinks. His eyes drown. "I can't, Mack. I can't do this race."
"Let's get you to California, kid. You've been out here for almost a week, so it can't have been easy to get your head back in the game. Once you start practising on a track, I guarantee this doubt will just go. You'll win the cup and laugh at yourself for thinking you couldn't." He pats Lightning's back and then eases him back against the seat, placing his own cap on his head so the peak covers his eyes. "Try and get some rest, kid. California's still a way away."
Trouble was, California wasn't anywhere near far enough.
"Take it easy on him, he got a little sad coming back."
"Okay, okay. Thank you. Please can we open the door now?"
The world is violent red until Lightning remembers the cap and pushes it upright. Sunlight blinds him with all its might and then a face scarred by dermatitis appeared. "Rusty?"
"McQueen!" Joy splits his face into a beaming grin, those crooked teeth making Lightning's heart grate against his chest for a different, way more painful reason. "It really is you!" He thumps on the dashboard excitedly and starts pulling on his arm. "Come on, you must be thirsty...why won't you come out?"
"Seatbelt."
"Oh!" Rusty lightly slaps his balding forehead with his hand. "Don't tell my brother I just did that, will you?" The grating gets worse. Lightning unclips it and slides out where Dusty immediately swoops in before Lightning has the chance to understand he's even there. There's paparazzi everywhere and the guy hugs him so hard all the air gets pushed from his lungs and then he adds insult to injury by straightening himself up and carrying him into the Rusteze tent. 'Shoot, Lightnin', I'll help you reach that.' Same casual strength, same total advantage of his height. Or lack of. But he still holds onto Dusty, even as he's deposited in one of those folding chairs the brothers keep around. Rusty elbows his brother away, gently taking off Mack's cap. "Oh, it's so good to see you. You're lookin' tanned. Maybe we oughta take a vacation in Arizona sometime, eh Dusty?"
"You don't tan. You turn the same colour as his car!"
With a bashful grin, Rusty shrugs. "And you even change colour? We spent a month in Australia and you came back paler than a ghost! Speaking of...Mack!"
Mack obligingly puts his head through the tent's flaps. "Yeah?"
"Is there any word from Harvey?"
Mack's eyes are apologetic, but his mouth is set in a disgusted line. "He sends his love."
"Okay. Grab a drink from the cooler and go take a rest." Rusty takes Lightning's hands and looks at them intently, like he's doing a palm reading. "There's something wrong here, Dusty."
"What's that?"
"He doesn't have a drink yet! Get him one and make sure it's cold." Rusty places the inside of his own wrist against Lightning's forehead. He chuckles. "You did get the sun. I knew it. You gotta be more careful with sun protection, kid."
'I telled you to put that stuff on, like Doc telled me to tell you. Well, he said you don't listen to him, but you might just listen to me Why didn't you?' Out of guilt, he's put it on religiously for the past two days. Generally, best friends should take each other's advice, according to all the movies he's seen. He sees a look in Rusty's eyes, a kind of resigned understanding as the man moves back. Well, of course. He's never given them the pride they deserve The gratitude. He'd never hidden his disgust at their condition, something he's so ashamed of now. Mater's the same as them. The thought of someone treating him like he's lesser makes his blood boil. "I'm sorry."
"You couldn't help gettin' lost, kid." The drink is wrapped inside his hand, the ring pulled.
"I saw all those missing posters on the way down here. The rewards." He drinks, tasting the bitter orange before the shudder at the cold of it makes him shudder. "You could've signed on another racer for that."
"Why would we want another racer?"
"Because...I don't treat people right."
They exchange looks. Surprise, maybe at the fact he's figured out that they know how he used to feel. "Our brand isn't glamorous, kid." Rusty laughs as he points to the volcanic crusts scattered over his cheekbones. "And this ain't pretty."
"But it doesn't matter. It never mattered. You guys have always been good to me, even when we first met, even when I lose."
Another, more unreadable look is exchanged. They approach him like he's an injured lion, wanting to show they care, but not daring to touch him again. "You were eighteen when we first met, kid. Most eighteen year old kids can be a little..." Dusty doesn't know how to finish his train of thought and lets it trail into nothing.
Rusty tries, his eyes flitting as he struggles with his words. It's funny because he's the one who talks the most. "Harvey's all about image. We know that. It rubbed off on you, that's all."
"I'm sorry." He is. Because just like Mater, they're unfailingly sweet, even knowing what an asshole he is.
Dusty's mouth tries to smile, but there's sadness like pity in his eyes. "You don't need to apologise to us. Kid, we thought you were dead. You could set all our warehouses on fire and we'd forgive you."
"Don't do that, though." Rusty does manage a smile, a more real one. "We might have to fire you if you do that!"
Dusty sighs. "Only a bad comedian laughs when others don't."
"Better than any joke you've told, brother."
"I'm lookin' right at a joke here!"
"Oh, yeah? How about we-" Rusty must've remembered Lightning was there because he narrowed his eyes at Dusty and then ignored him. "Look, all that matters to us is you're safe and alive and healthy. We love you, kid. Not as a little moneymaker, but 'cause we do. Nobody is perfect, but you are capable of treating people right. Old you never would've admitted to anything or said he was sorry. We're super proud of you."
"Motor mouth here is right. You gave us something to fight for, not fight about."
Looking from one brother to the other, Lightning leaves his drink on the narrow wooden armrest and stands, raising himself on his toes so he can loop an arm over the back of their necks. Their arms support him as he starts to wobble. They've always supported him. He just hopes that on Saturday, they'll support him when he inevitably chokes.