Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sky had been threatening rain all day.

Doc tore his gaze away from the ominous dark clouds and focused on the race.

If the weather would only hold off for a few more laps…

Then the race would be more than half over and it wouldn't matter if the weather man brought them a hurricane. The officials would call the win and they could all go home.

There was nothing worse than a rain delay that stretched into the next day.

"I swear, Doc, one more caution just might take me out."

As Lightning's voice filtered through his headset, Doc chuckled. "There certainly have been a lot of them, hasn't there?"

"And this thing isn't even halfway over yet. Please tell me we're at least on the verge of a record here. Most cautions ever at Texas or something like that."

"We have to be pretty close to it by now." Doc surveyed the track. "Watch out, kid, you've got Bobby a couple inches up your left side. One little swerve could take you both out for the day."

"Got it. Thanks."

As the kid adjusted his line, giving Bobby some space, Doc studied the sky again.

Dry lightning lit up the growing darkness, followed by a clap of thunder not five seconds later.

Hold off… If the rain would only just hold off…

"You'd think it would've started raining by now—Whoa, whoa, whoa! Doc!" The tone of Lightning's voice switched tracks so suddenly, Doc could hardly comprehend the sheer thickness of his kid's panic until he glanced back at the track.

And saw the crash unfolding before him.

Ten, fifteen, maybe as many as twenty cars were piling up, all smashing into each other at varying degrees of severity.

But Doc had tunnel vision for only one driver.

The #95 had swerved as Lightning tried in vain to regain control. Half a second later, the vehicle got hit by another out-of-control car, which sent it sailing across the track and smashing head-first into the wall.

If that wasn't enough damage to begin with, the #6 t-boned Lightning, spiraling both cars further into the smokey cloud of chaos.

When the #95 flipped, Doc didn't just feel his chest seize—he felt his heart fully skid to a stop.

It was several long minutes before all the cars came to a standstill—and still longer before Doc could find his voice again.

What was shaping up to be a torrential downpour now pummeled the track, but he couldn't bring himself to even think to care about a rain delay.

"Kid?" No response, but that was normal. He's probably catching his breath. "Lightning, are you all right? Talk to me, kid."

Nothing.

“Lightning, I need you to talk to me. Give me something, kid. Talk to me…”

Doc gave it a full minute before he let the silence scare him. Several drivers were already pulling down their window netting.

But not Lightning. The #95 was a smoking heap of crunched metal.

Yanking off his headset, Doc dashed down the stairs of the box two at a time, skipping the last three altogether and nearly falling flat on his face.

"I saw it, man," Fillmore said as Doc joined the pit crew. "It was the rain, for sure."

"Came out of nowhere," Sarge added, deep trenches digging themselves between his brows. "Well? Did you hear from him? Is he okay?"

Swallowing, all Doc could do was shake his head. The emergency vehicles were already swarming the crash site as he pushed past the pit crew and crossed the barrier.

With the red flag out and the vehicles that had managed to escape the crash making their way back to Pit Road, Doc figured there wouldn't be any harm in joining the medics on the track. Even if there would, he couldn't bring himself to care.

He had to know, had to see.

Let him be all right. Doc could barely catch a breath as he closed the distance between him and Lightning. He has to be all right.

Through all the races they'd won or lost together, through each and every crash, some part of Doc always knew he could lose the kid at any moment. Any word could be Lightning's last as he zoomed around corners at ridiculously high speeds, but Doc never thought the time would actually come.

He was prepared for it, but he wasn't prepared for it. Not really. He honestly didn't think his heart could handle a loss like that.

Weren't parents not supposed to outlive their children…?

The medics were pulling Lightning—pulling him—out of the #95 by the time Doc arrived.

"Sir," one of them said, stopping Doc before he could get too close to the wreckage, "you can't be on the track right now."

"The hell I can't." He vaguely registered Sarge coming up beside him. "That's my kid over there! Now, get out of my way."

Pushing past, Doc approached just as they were loading Lightning onto a gurney. With his helmet off, he looked almost fine—peaceful. Like he was just sleeping.

But Doc wouldn't be satisfied until he'd felt the kid's pulse for himself.

"Sir—"

"Move over, I'm a doctor. As a matter of fact, I'm his doctor." That seemed to pacify the medic and he let Doc see Lightning.

It was faint, but it was there. A steady thump, thump, thump that calmed Doc's nerves by a mere fraction.

Lightning was alive, but he was far from okay.

Maybe, Doc realized with a jolt, if he hadn't been staring at the sky, he would've noticed.

Would’ve been able to give the kid advice, to warn him or… or something.

Why didn't you notice?

He'd watched the replay more than a dozen times and from several different angles. From Bobby's front cam and Cal's rear camera. From Junior's and Thompson's, too, but not Lightning's. No, not Lightning's.

Doc wasn't sure he was ready for that. He could still hear the kid's panicked shout ringing in his head clear as day—he didn't need to hear it on a recording.

The second the rain had started, the first row of cars lost control, and so the chain reaction began. Twenty-seven cars in all, making it the worst pileup of the last five years. Ten injured drivers, making it, by far, the worst crash of the decade—Bobby and Lightning counted among them.

At least the young Octane Gain driver had regained consciousness before he'd even arrived at the in-field care center. Lightning, on the other hand, had been sent straight to the nearest hospital, where Doc and the rest of the team had spent the last three hours waiting for him to wake up.

Calling Sally had been harder than Doc expected and he'd eventually been forced to surrender the phone to Luigi when getting a word out through the emotion clogging his throat became too difficult.

The worst of it was that they weren't even allowed to sit in Lightning's room and wait. Something about the doctors trying to stabilize him… A fact that did nothing for Doc's impending heart attack.

"He'll be okay," Sarge said, sitting down beside Doc. Fillmore slowly paced the waiting room while Guido and Luigi conversed in hushed tones.

Doc sucked in a deep breath. "I know. I won't accept anything less."

Sarged nodded as he pursed his lips. Mack was on the phone, with Lightning's agent, if Doc had to guess. Trying to decide how to best handle the publicity side of the incident, no doubt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Doc!"

Doc winced, both willing the voice to shut off and welcoming it as his curse for not paying good enough attention.

What could you have done even if you had been? Warn him about the rain? No one could even see it when it first came down.

Sure.

Though the kid hadn't looked too bad off, Doc knew the worst injuries were always internal, and heaven forbid anything have happened to Lightning's head, spine, or neck…

The nurse came in without any fanfare. In fact, Doc didn't notice her until Sarge stood up.

On his feet a second later, Doc asked, "Well?"

The nurse smiled, so that was a good thing. Right? "He's awake and asking for you."

Doc could have cried from the sweet relief that now flooded his chest. He booked it for the hall before he even knew which room to go to. With the help of the nurse, he found Lightning's room in no time, the rest of the crew coming up behind him.

The kid looked like he hadn't slept in days, his eyes half-lidded as Doc entered.

"Hey, Doc," he croaked, a smile spreading across his face.

"Hey, kid." Doc came over to Lightning's bedside and put a hand on his shoulder. No, he wasn't going to cry. There wasn't any use in scaring the kid, but damned if his eyes didn't get a little moist. "You gave us all quite the scare, do you know that?"

"Yeah… Sorry about that. Scared me, too." The kid tried for a laugh, aborting halfway through to make room for a wince. "I mean, what happened? One second, I was going fine, and then the next I was spinning out. I don't think I've ever crashed this badly before…"

"I don't know about that. You had a pretty close one at Daytona last year."

Something in the kid's expression shifted and though Doc couldn't say why, exactly, it set his skin on edge.

"Daytona? Okay, sure. Good one, Doc." The kid laughed again, despite the obvious pain it caused him to do so. "I haven't even practiced at Daytona, yet. That's big league stuff and I haven't—Wait." Brows knitting in obvious confusion, he glanced over Doc's shoulder. "Who are all those guys?"

Doc's heart skipped a beat and he fought not to jump to conclusions. "You don't recognize them?"

"I mean…" The kid shrugged. "I know Mack, but… Why? Should I? Doc? Doc, why are you looking at me like that…? Doc?"

"Mack," Doc said slowly, voice exuding a calm he didn’t feel, "could you go get the doctor?"

Lightning only seemed to be getting more confused—and slightly more agitated. "Come on, Doc, this isn't funny. What's going on?"

Calm. Stay calm. He'll be fine… Doc took a breath. We'll figure this out and he'll be fine.

"Lightning, what year is it?"

The kid scrunched his nose. "Uh… Hold on, I know this one…" As he wracked his brain, Doc forced himself to keep breathing, even as his lungs kept threatening to stop working. "Oh! Like, 2004, right? Right, Doc?" Lightning pressed when Doc didn't reply.

2004… How did someone lose almost five full years in a simple car crash?

"Doc? Am I missing something? Come on, what's—?"

"I think," Doc cut in, trying to keep his voice gentle and worry-free. The kid didn't need to suffer from any second-hand anxiety right now. "That we should wait for the doctor to come back."

And what will that do? Tell you what you already know?

But Lightning seemed to accept this, albeit reluctantly.

That he's lost over five years of memory?

And yet, the kid remembered him. Can't recognize anyone else here, but he remembers me.

Why does he remember me?

It was the last thing Doc had been expecting, but with head trauma, he reminded himself, anything was possible.

Amnesia.

Doc pursed his lips.

His kid had amnesia.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

Chapter Text

"Do you remember the crash?"

"Uh… Did I blow a tire or something?"

"The rain made several drivers lose control."

"Oh. Then… no, I guess."

"What's the last thing you do remember?"

"Mack was driving me somewhere? I don't know, I think to our next practice track or something. I... Heh, uh, I remember not really paying attention to where we were going… That’s… That’s it.”

Doc sucked in a breath, stealing a glance at Lightning, who sat slumped in the passenger seat.

The questions had continued on like that until the doctor had been able to form an adequate diagnosis.

"It's a kind of retrograde amnesia, but a bit more selective."

"Selective amnesia?" Doc had raised a brow. "I thought he only got that when he didn't want to do the dishes."

The doctor had chuckled—more out of pity than anything close to real humor—and explained that the amnesia was most likely temporary, but could potentially last longer. Exactly how long, the doctor couldn't say.

That had been a few days ago. To say the crew had been upset over the whole thing would be a gross understatement. Doc was pretty sure Guido cried at not being remembered and he had to explain to them all that it wasn't Lightning's fault he didn't remember them.

"But he will, eventually, so there's no need to worry."

Do you really believe that?

He… He hoped the kid would bounce back…

The doctor had suggested finding things that could jog Lightning's memory, which meant taking him home. Which also meant he'd needed to call ahead and warn Sally…

That hadn't been a pleasant conversation.

"So," Lightning said as the Hornet neared Radiator Springs, "you're saying I'm actually twenty-five now?"

"Twenty-four," Doc corrected. "You have a birthday coming up in September."

"Oh, right. You know, I don't think that's really fair seeing as I was just twenty, like, yesterday. Twenty-four is so… old."

Doc had to choke down his chuckle, knowing the kid probably wouldn't appreciate being laughed at. Especially when he'd spent the majority of the ride being confused as all get out.

"Is it really 2009? Like, you're sure?"

"Positive, rookie."

"Okay, so how far is this place, anyway?"

"We're almost there." It was surprising, though Doc supposed it shouldn't be, that Lightning was still, well, Lightning even without those five years of memory. He slumped further in his seat and heaved a melodramatic sigh. "It's the place you chose to build your racing headquarters, kid. I didn't pick it for you—you did."

"And why would I pick some place so far out in the middle of nowhere?"

"It's a long story."

"Do I at least get to hear it later?"

"Oh, I'm sure you will."

The kid thought for a moment, then he turned to Doc, switching topics with an all too predictable speed. "Hey, am I super famous? I am, aren't I? Like, I have to be to have my own racing headquarters."

"Believe it or not, every racer needs a headquarters, kid, but yeah, you're one of the biggest names in motorsports right now. You have been for the last three years or so."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lightning's small grin. "Cool."

They rode in silence for a few minutes, Lightning fiddling with the radio much like he had on their first drive together back from the tie-breaker race.

"You know, you can get a CD player installed in this thing. They do it to old cars all the time."

That seemed like just yesterday. Was it really three years ago?

Watching the kid freak out all over again about riding in the Hornet would have been funny under different circumstances.

And still, Doc wrestled with the question: why me?

Lightning remembered Doc, but nothing they had done together. It was almost as if his mind had transplanted the memory of who Doc was into 2004 and hadn't yet made the connection that Doc wasn’t in his life back then.

"Wait!" Leave it to Lightning to shove Doc's train of thought right off the proverbial tracks. That was the Lightning he knew.

He's still the Lightning you know, just without some of his memories…

"Is the press gonna hear about this? About my crash, I mean, and all this dumb amnesia stuff?" The kid shook his head. "Harv would not be happy if they did… Doc, we can't let anyone know about this. It'd be so bad for my image. Right…?"

"Yeah…" At a loss for how to respond, Doc simply nodded. But the kid was still looking at him for a better answer, so he sighed. "I doubt Harv would appreciate that sort of publicity. The thing is, son… Well, he's not here anymore, so I don't think that really matters."

"What?" When Lightning's expression clouded over, Doc knew he should have phrased that bombshell a little differently. "What do you mean? Is he…?" The kid swallowed. "You mean, like… Is he dead…?"

"Oh! No, no. " Doc could've smacked himself. Yes, he'd definitely phrased that the wrong way. "No, of course not. Shortly after I became your crew chief, you fired him."

Lightning scrunched his nose. "I fired him? Why the hell would I do that?"

"It's a long story."

There was that melodramatic sigh again, however, this one was shrouded in a bit more irritation and exasperation. "Another long story? When did my life become so complicated?"

"Don't worry, son," Doc said, his tone gentle, "we'll sit down later tonight and I'll answer all your questions, but right now, we're pulling into town and don’t exactly have time."

Lightning's head shot up and he gazed out the window. "Wow… Is this, like, one of those old Route 66 towns? You know, it's been on my bucket list to travel down the whole of Route 66 for, like, ever."

A twinge of surprise shot through Doc's veins. "Really? You never told me that."

A shrug was the best Lightning could offer as he seemed not to know how to respond to that. As he continued to point out "cute little houses" and "cool looking buildings," Doc found himself comparing the stark differences between the kid's first visit to the town and his… Well, his second first visit.

Because as far as Lightning was concerned, Doc realized with a pang, he'd never heard of Radiator Springs, much less been there.

Instead of pulling into Flo's like they normally would after a race weekend, Doc took Lightning home. The townsfolk had been warned several times that, due to the delicacy of the situation, it would be best for Lightning to have a quiet night in. The last thing Doc wanted was to overwhelm him right off the bat.

An amnesia diagnosis was overwhelming enough on its own.

Unfortunately for Doc's already fraying nerves, Mater either didn't get the memo or didn't really care because no sooner had they stepped into the kitchen than the energetic mechanic was bursting through the door behind them.

"McQueen! You're back!"

Doc bit back a sigh and a curse, seconds too late to stop Mater from whisking Lightning into a bone-crushing hug.

"Don't worry! They told me what happened to you, but it's all right! I lost my memory once or twice and it came back both times! So, you're good! It's all gonna be fine!"

Lightning's confusion was palpable and, despite his half-smile at Mater's antics, he asked, "Sorry, uh… Who are you again?"

Heart clenched, Doc couldn’t find his next breath.

You should’ve known something like this was coming…

Mater seemed unfazed, however, clapping Lightning on the shoulder and grinning. "Shoot, don't worry about it! I'm Mater, your very best friend in the whole wide world."

"Look," Doc cut in, trying to keep the conversation from escalating, "it's been a long few days, so why don't we just—"

But Lightning was staring at Mater now, studying him hard. "My… M-My what…?"

"Your best friend," Mater happily repeated.

"I…" The kid sucked in a breath and Doc held his. "I, uh… I didn't think I had any of those…"

Mater tried to say something else, as optimistic as ever, but his reassurances tapered off as Lightning wrapped him in another embrace.

Doc watched as the kid squeezed his eyes shut and hugged Mater tight.

"I wish I could remember you," he whispered after a long moment.

"You will, buddy," came Mater’s soft reply. "I know you will."

Feeling an unwelcome pressure building behind his eyes, Doc grabbed a few of their bags and took them upstairs, leaving the kids in the kitchen.

You should have been paying better attention.

Maybe if he had, none of this would have happened.

Maybe nothing would have had to change.

They had a long road ahead of them and Doc didn't know if they were all truly up to the task. He was already having a hard time making it through this day, much less the next week, and he was still supposed to sit down later to talk about Lightning's missing memories.

"Damn it," Doc bit out to the empty hall as he rubbed his eyes. "Damn it…"

When he came back down a few minutes later, Lightning and Mater were sitting at the table discussing what sounded like one of Mater's tall tales.

"Look, I know I don't really know you yet—or I do, I guess, just not right now—but that sounds absolutely impossible! There’s no way you did something like that."

Mater shrugged, still grinning. "You always did have trouble believin' some of my stories, but don't worry, I'll make a believer out of ya someday!"

"Sorry, but if anyone traveled to the center of the earth, I think it would've made the news at some point."

"All right, well there was this one time I—"

Doc cleared his throat, catching both of their attention. "As interesting as that all sounds, like I said earlier, it's been a long day. I think it's about time we all wind down for the evening."

"Oh, sure, sure," Mater said, hopping out of his chair. "Hey, I'll see you around, McQueen. And don't you worry 'bout nothin'. You'll get better in no time!"

"Here, Mater, I'll walk you out," Doc said. "I'll be right back, kid."

Lightning waved goodbye before pulling out his phone.

As Doc closed the door, he took a steadying breath and turned to Mater. "I know this is difficult, but I just want to make sure you know something." Another breath. "There's a good chance Lightning might not regain his memories."

For the first time that night, Mater seemed to be thrown for a bit of a loop. "But, you said the doctors said he could."

"They did. He could. That's the thing, it's a fifty-fifty chance at this point, especially since it's been a few days already and he hasn't shown any signs of remembering anything. I'm not saying it won't happen, I'm just… I just want you to be prepared if he doesn't get his memories back."

"Well," Mater began after a moment or two and a small shrug, "if that happens, I guess we'll just have to make new ones.. 'Night, Doc."

As Mater strolled down the driveway, Doc found himself envying that simple enthusiasm, that optimism that always seemed to come so easily for some. For people like Mater, Red, and Fillmore.

For Doc, it was a crapshoot every day as to whether or not his glass would be half-empty or half-full. Since the kid had come around, it had been half-full more often than not, but now it felt like the glass had spilled altogether.

And he didn't know how to get the water back in.

Lost in the metaphor—and in a mind that wouldn't let him forget even a single second of the crash—it took a few seconds for Doc to notice the kid's puzzled, slightly panicked expression when he came back inside.

"Hey, rookie," he said as the phone call Lightning was trying to make apparently failed, "what's up?"

"It's my mom. It says her number can't be reached…"

And just like that, Doc's chest seized. He should've seen something like this coming, too. Should've broken the news to Lightning before he had a chance to stumble across it on his own.

He couldn't stop the sigh from escaping as he sat down next to his kid. "That's…" Breathe, old man. You can do this. "... One of the things we need to talk about."

Lightning was instantly on edge, face twisted in a growing distress Doc knew he wouldn't be able to calm. Not this time. "What happened to her?"

This wasn't how he'd wanted the night to go. Far from it. He'd envisioned sitting on the couch while Lightning bombarded him with questions about the town and his newfound fame. Not this.

Not yet.

"Doc…?"

Lifting up a quick prayer for strength, Doc decided the best thing to do would be to just rip the bandaid off—and rip it off fast.

"You… You remember that she's been sick for a long time, right?" Lightning nodded and Doc could practically hear the kid's heart thumping in rapid time to his own. "Well, she… Son, there's no easy way to tell you this, so I'll just say it. She passed away a few years ago."

Lightning blinked and for a moment, he seemed frozen in time.

When he finally spoke, his voice teetered on the edge of a swirling sea of emotion. "But the doctors said… They-They told me…" Lightning shook his head and took a deep breath, clearly fighting not to lose it. "Never mind. It's… I guess I should've seen that coming at some point, and I guess future me already knows that—or, present me, but not really because I don't have the memories, so it just feels like the future and… Ugh! This is all so confusing! It's like…" The next breath was shakier, swallower than the last. "Like, everything feels off. You're not supposed to be here because my mind is stuck in the past, but you are, even though you're not part of the past, and the memories don't match and… and… a-and…" Burying his face in his hands, Lightning's shoulders hitched.

Doc's arm was around him in seconds.

"What's happened to me?" The kid choked out a sob. "Why do I remember you and nothing else? What's wrong with me? Why can't I even remember that she… that she's… Doc, she's really gone, isn't she?"

Feeling his heart break slowly into half a dozen shards had never been one of Doc's favorite pastimes, but he couldn't remember it ever feeling this painful.

"I'm so sorry, Lightning. I'm so sorry."

The quiet sobs that came out of his kid made Doc want to fix everything, and the worst of it was that he couldn't.

Even doctors could only do so much in the end.

All he could do was be there for Lightning, pulling the kid close and leaning in until their heads touched.

If he hid his face in Lightning's blond locks, he wouldn't have to think about the rogue tear slipping down his cheek.

Wouldn't have to feel it cut a thin trail across his skin.

He could simply hold his kid and let himself get lost for a precious, rare moment in the dark void of emotion.

Chapter Text

"Well, you look awful."

Doc glanced up, nodding a greeting at the sheriff, coffee mug in hand as he eased himself onto his front porch rocker.

"That's just the kind of thing I like to hear when I first wake up," he said with a dry smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

The sheriff mounted the steps and leaned back against the railing. "How's he doing?"

"Well, he's inside trying to jog his memory with National Geographic DVDs, though I think that's just an excuse to watch TV."

Nodding, Sheriff studied him. Under the sharp eyes of his friend, Doc took a sip of his coffee. Something told him he'd need all the energy he could get today.

"And how are you doing?"

"Well now, let's see… Last night, I had to break it to Mater that there's a chance the kid might not get all his memories back, which was quickly followed by Lightning trying to make a phone call to his deceased mother. That ended in more tears than I thought possible. Then, we stayed up till, oh… I'd say about three or four o'clock going over how he first discovered Radiator Springs, why he fired his old agent, the tie-breaker race in California, why he lives with me instead of in Florida or on the road… You know, those sorts of things." A heavy sigh floated past Doc's lips. "We talked a little more over breakfast this morning and he told me he wants to explore the town today and meet everyone he 'used to know.' I don't think that's a good idea just yet, but he's set on it and I’m prolonging it as long as possible. That about sums it all up."

Sheriff blew out a sigh of his own and ran a hand over his face. "And it's not even been a full twenty-four hours yet, has it?"

"Not since we pulled into town, no," Doc said. "So, I guess I probably do look awful, but I'm not ready to look in the mirror just yet."

"What's he like?" The sheriff asked a few moments later.

"He's… Well, he's the same. The only difference is he's living in the year 2004."

A concept Doc still didn't really know how to wrap his head around. It was Lightning before Harv's corruption—Lightning before fame, before his solo act. His one-man show.

And it was… beyond odd. It was chilling. Like one of those sci-fi films he and the kid had watched together a while back. Their current reality was a jumbled puzzle of the past and present that Doc didn't know how to piece back together.

"Doc!" He could hear the kid's feet pounding against the front hallway, his voice echoing through the window. A second or two later, the door swung open to reveal a semi-breathless Lightning. " Doc! I think I joined the police force at some point and didn't know it!"

Doc brushed away the wallet that had been shoved into his face so he could get a better look at it. A shiny deputy badge glinted up at him and he could feel the sheriff leaning in closer.

"That," Doc began, "I believe, is something you were supposed to give back a while ago."

"Oh, he did," Sheriff clarified. "Actually, I took it back, but somehow, he got it again. I very well could’ve given it to him again and it just slipped my mind…"

Lightning seemed to notice the sheriff's presence for the first time and Doc caught him looking at the man with that same expression he'd fixed on Mater.

The one that knew he was supposed to know something about the person standing before him, but he didn't. The one that wanted so desperately to remember.

But he couldn't.

Before the silence could take the porch captive, Sheriff stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, son. I'm the sheriff 'round here and this old hermit’s best friend."

Doc had to give the kid credit for smiling like he vaguely recognized the man. "Oh yeah, I heard about you. You're the one who put me in jail, right?"

The sheriff chuckled as Lightning shook his hand. "Well, can't say you didn't deserve it." He nodded at the open wallet. "I needed help one night not too long ago and I deputized you. Now before you freak out, don't worry, it was only temporary."

"You probably want it back then, right?" The kid went to dislodge the badge, but Sheriff stopped him, placing a gentle hand atop Lightning's.

"You know?” The glint of emotion in his eyes had Doc studying his coffee. Some things were just too much to handle. “Why don't you keep it for now? I'm sure I'll get it back at some point."

Lightning just nodded and closed the wallet, clearly unsure of what to do next.

Taking another drink, Doc decided to be the one to break the silence this time. "How was National Geographic? "

"Just like I remembered," the kid replied, voice faltering for the briefest of seconds before he plastered a smile on his face again. "So, do we have to stay all cooped up in the house today like we did last night? Or can we go exploring?"

"This is my hometown, rookie," Doc said with a chuckle. "I don't need to explore."

"Okay, sure, but I do. Well, I'd like to, at least. It's boring in there."

"Excuse me?" Doc cupped a hand to his ear. "What was that? My hearing's not as good as it used to be, but I could've sworn you called my house boring. "

"I live in it, don't I?" Lightning countered as a smirk spread across his face. "So, wouldn't that make it my house, too?"

Sheriff nodded at the kid. "I think he's got a point, Hud."

"Which means, " Lightning continued, "I can call it whatever I want. And right now, it's so boring."

"Why?" Doc mustered up a smirk of his own. "Did the television stop working?"

" No. But we've been in there since yesterday. Come on, I want to see the town!"

You have seen the town, Doc thought grimly, though he kept his expression neutral. The kid was already having a tough time of it without Doc's added emotions thrown into the mix.

"Like I told you before, I don't think that's a good idea just yet…"

Lightning was leaning against the arm of Doc's rocker now, his dramatics increasing with every word. "But didn't the doctors say we're supposed to be trying to trigger my memory? How can we do that if we're stuck inside all day?"

"He's got another good point there," the sheriff said.

Doc shot him with a look. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"The right one," Lightning piped up. "What if we just take a quick walk?"

Heaving a sigh, Doc downed nearly half of his coffee before replying. "Do you know just how many people we'll come across during a simple walk up to the courthouse and back?"

The kid shrugged. "Maybe I'll recognize some of them."

I wouldn't count on it.

He couldn't seem to stop them. The depressing, hopeless thoughts. They had first started plaguing his mind during the drive over and he didn't know what to do with them.

He didn't know how to make them go away.

Mater had said that, if worse came to worst, they would all just have to make new memories.

Well. Doc didn't want to make new memories. He wanted the old ones back. He wanted Lightning to get the old ones back.

He will, eventually.

You don't know that…

"Look, you can stay here and rock the day away if you want," Lightning said after a frustrated sigh, "but I'm going for a walk."

There were several reasons why Doc felt that was not a good idea and one of them was named Sally, but he couldn't find any real reason to object. The kid did have a point: he couldn't stay cooped up forever.

And they were supposed to be trying to jog his memory.

Prying himself out of his rocker, Doc gave a sigh of his own. "I suppose I could use a walk, too. But, if you start to get overwhelmed, you need to let me know, all right?"

"Doc, it'll be fine. " Lightning grinned. "It'll be just like walking into a party where you don't know anyone. When that happens, you just have to meet new people. Now, come on! "

While the kid disappeared into the house to get his shoes, Doc pursed his lips against another oncoming sigh. At this rate, he would be sighing his life away.

But it was the only way to release the tension, the stress and emotion that kept his chest locked up tighter than Fort Knox.

"What if he sees her…?" Voice having gone quiet, Doc glanced at his friend. “We both know that’s not going to end well.”

The sheriff's face was unreadable as he gave Doc half a shrug. "What if he remembers her?"

"He won't."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But he will soon enough. We can't keep them apart just because we don't want them to get hurt."

The "we" was a kindness Doc didn't deserve. He was the paranoid one, he knew. He didn't want to have to endure the disappointment and heartache on Sally's face when her boyfriend looked at her without a shred of recognition.

It's not supposed to be like this.

Doc tightened his grip around the mug and flung the remaining coffee over the porch railing. He'd put more force than necessary into the gesture, but it had felt good.

None of it is supposed to be like this…

"It's all gonna work out, Hud."

A scoff clawed at his throat and Doc shook his head. "I wish I had your confidence. I really do."

The sheriff hummed. "Want some company on your walk?"

"Actually… If you could call or find Sally and just… Well, just let everyone you come across know we'll be heading their way soon. I don't want any of them to overwhelm the kid."

"You know," the sheriff said, face thoughtful, "I think he's a lot stronger than any of us give him credit for."

"I know he is.” Doc took a steadying breath. “But I'm not. "

Just the thought of watching Lightning treat some of his closest friends—his family— like strangers made Doc sick to his stomach.

It's not the kid's fault. Of course, it's not.

He can't help it if he can't remember.

That still didn't make things any less painful.

It wasn't anyone's fault but the weather. An untimely crash—one of the many risks of the sport.

And yet… Doc swallowed, a vain attempt to settle his churning stomach.

…He knew he should’ve been paying better attention to the track that day.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t a good idea. Doc could feel it in his bones; felt it in the way his heart couldn’t seem to find a steady rhythm. In the way his skin prickled whenever they came across one of the townsfolk. In the way Lightning couldn’t seem to remember anything.

They had already met with Fillmore and Sarge and, honestly, Doc was ready to be done. He couldn’t take it anymore, but the kid was set on exploring the town…

Fillmore had taken it all in stride like he did everything, set on reassuring Lightning that they all still loved him anyway—and still would, even if he didn’t recover his memories.

Sarge had been more reticent, content to let Fillmore do most of the talking. His face had been more pinched than normal, Doc noted, and he never smiled. Not once. If anyone could get the old veteran to smile, it was Lightning and his antics.

But Sarge had been there with Doc at the crash site, in the immediate aftermath. He knew what head trauma could do to someone—Doc didn’t doubt he’d seen his fair share of it over the years.

And that just made everything that much harder. Because Doc didn’t want to just fix it for the kid…

… He wanted to fix it for everybody.

“Quick!” Lightning’s whisper tore Doc from his thoughts. “Tell me something I know about them. Or, I dunno, something I used to know about them.”

Following Lightning’s gaze to the people in question, Doc felt his brow tighten in confusion—and that wasn’t doing anything for his headache.

Luigi and Guido stood outside their shop, and by the looks of it, they’d seen Lightning and were eager to talk to him.

“What?”

“Just tell me something!” Lightning repeated. “Before they get any closer. I don’t remember much, but I do remember they took this whole amnesia thing pretty hard, so just… Tell me something I should know about them.”

“Sorry, son, but I’m not going to help you give them false hope. If you remember anything about Guido and Luigi, it’ll have to be on your own.”

The kid shot him a glare, but didn’t have time to make a comeback.

“Lightning!” Doc supposed it was all right Sarge hadn’t smiled, Luigi’s was big enough and wide enough for the both of them. “It’s so good to see you outside the hospital! Nasty place, so sterile and white—” As Guido muttered something in Italian, Luigi nodded. “—It gives Guido a headache just being there.”

“Yeah,” the kid said with a chuckle, “I’m not a fan of hospitals, either.”

“How’s your memory?”

Doc swallowed a sigh. Leave it to those two not to beat around the bush.

Lightning just shrugged and Doc had to give him credit, he was keeping up his smile better than any of them—except maybe Luigi. “Uh, pretty much the same, but that’s actually why I’m out here. I’m trying to jog it, or whatever. I thought a walk around town might kick it into remembering.”

“Ah, yes! The sheriff told us you’d be coming, so Guido and I got some things together to help you remember.”

Before Doc could even wonder what that meant, Luigi had disappeared into his shop and Guido was pulling Lightning in after him.

Doc took a moment to breathe before following, mentally preparing himself for everyone’s disappointment when Lightning didn’t remember—including his own.

This is going to be a long day…

By the time he finally made it into the tire shop, he found the three of them hunched over a book on the counter. Upon closer inspection, he realized with a sharp pang that it was some sort of scrapbook.

“Here’s a page with highlights from your tie-breaker race,” Luigi was saying, “and here’s all of the photos and newspapers from our first season as your pit crew. Guido made those two pages and I put these few together. Oh! And here’s the grand opening of your headquarters!”

“Wow…” Lightning brushed a gentle hand over the pages. “I… I can’t believe you guys actually made this… Man, you’re gonna make me cry or something.”

Despite the laugh, Doc knew the kid was only half-joking.

Luigi beamed. “Do you remember any of it?”

“Uh…” Flipping back through the pages, Lightning settled on one, seemingly at random. “Wait… Isn’t this… Isn’t this the opening of the Radiator Springs Museum?”

Both Guido and Luigi exchanged an excited look, and Guido launched into a string of sentences that were too fast for Doc to make out, even if he could speak more than basic Italian.

“Yes, yes!” Luigi exclaimed! “What else?”

“Well,” Lightning went on, his smile growing ever so slightly, “isn’t there, like, I don’t know, some sort of wing just for Doc—that he did not want us to make, but we did anyway?”

Now Luigi and Guido’s excited ramblings were completely unintelligible as they talked over each other. Lightning just stood there and smiled.

Doc… couldn’t.

And he didn’t know why.

He can’t really be remembering stuff already, can he…?

They went through the book for a few more minutes before parting ways when it was clear Lightning didn’t remember anything else.

Walking down the road again, just the two of them, Doc eyed his kid.

“So… Did you really remember all that?”

The heavy sigh was all the answer he needed. “No.”

“I didn’t think so. Though, I have to say, you actually had me fooled for a second or two. How’d you manage to pull that off?”

A shrug. “I saw the museum on our drive in. I figured there’d be some sort of section for you because, I mean, come on, you’re the Fabulous Hudson Hornet. How can there not be?”

“And the last part?”

Lightning smirked. “Knowing you, I have a feeling you protested having an entire section dedicated to you and your past. I gambled and got lucky, that’s all. And it made them happy, so… I had to go with the first thing I could think of since someone refused to help me out with that earlier.”

“I told you, rookie, I’m not going to help you give your friends false hope, but…” A ghost of a smile stretched his lips. “I think that did more good than harm, so I’ll allow it.”

“Do…” The kid began a minute later. “Do you think it’s false hope? I mean, I could recover my memories any day now… right?”

In response, Doc wrapped an arm around Lightning’s shoulders. “Sure, kid. The doctors did say there’s a fifty-fifty chance.”

And what was that you said, exactly, about not giving false hope…?

Doc shoved down a sigh before it could escape and bring the mood down even further.

Because they were coming up to Flo's now and, with their luck, that could mean Sally, too.

“Okay,” Lightning said after reading the neon sign. “An old diner. Cool. Actually, I was just starting to get hungry.”

The kid opened the door and, sure enough, there she stood, leaning over the counter talking to Flo.

Doc couldn’t make out their conversation, but his best guess was that their main topic had just walked into the room.

Here we go…

When Sally turned around, she might as well have been moving in Hollywood slow motion with a halo of light and sparkles framing her face.

Because the kid’s jaw dropped.

Of all the ways Doc thought their reunion would go, this wasn’t one of them.

“Doc!” Lightning quickly whispered, combing a hand through his hair. “Who is that?”

“She’s the town attorney, the owner of that motel we passed earlier, and, well, she’s a lot of things…”

Sally didn’t move, clearly waiting for the two of them to approach her instead of the other way around.  This gave Lightning time to grab Doc’s arm.

“Wait, wait!” he said, still keeping his voice low. “Is she taken already?”

“What?”

“Like, is she with anybody right now?”

“Sort of.” This time, Doc let his sigh come through loud and clear. “Son, she’s with you. That’s Sally, your girlfriend.”

“My what? Doc, you’ve got to be freaking kidding me!” His voice had risen exponentially and Doc saw Flo lift an eyebrow. “Hold on, I’ll be right back…”

The kid booked it across the diner, still trying to comb back his hair with his hand. Doc followed almost immediately, set on making sure the encounter didn’t get too far out of hand.

As he pulled to a stop in front of her, the two stared at each other for a moment, Sally brushing a lock of hair behind her ear—a nervous habit Doc knew she hadn’t ever been able to drop.

“Hey…” Lightning began, suddenly unsure of himself.

“Hey, Stickers.” His brows knit in slight confusion at the nickname, but before Doc could explain, she pressed on. “How… How are you?”

“Uh… Good.” The kid cleared his throat. “You, well, I’m guessing you know about the memory thing…?”

She nodded and Doc could tell it was getting harder for her to keep her composure.

“And you…” Sally sucked in a breath. “They gave me a list of all the things you don’t remember.”

“Yeah… And I guess that includes you.”

She gave a few quick blinks. “Yeah, that includes me.”

“Sally, I’m…” Lightning huffed as the frustration began to build on his face. “I’m so sorry. I want to… I wish… If things were different, I… Ugh! I guess what I’m trying to say is… You’re beautiful.”

As Sally blushed, Flo leaned over the counter and whispered to Doc, “Is he flirting with his own girlfriend?”

Though she smiled, there was a hint of sadness in the woman’s eyes and Doc didn’t doubt Sally had spent the better part of the last few days sharing her woes with Flo.

“Thank you,” Sally said, clearly struggling.

We all are, kid. Don’t worry. It’s not just you.

It’s not just you…

“Are you doing anything later?”

Flo leaned closer. “And now he’s setting up a first date?”

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea…” Doc whispered back.

“And why not? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Let me guess,” Sally said with a small smile. “Dinner?”

“I was actually thinking we could do something else, but dinner works.”

Doc raised a brow. “What kind of something else?”

It was Lightning’s turn to blush and he was quick to blurt, “No! Nothing like that! I was just thinking something more out of the ordinary. I don’t know, like a drive or something—but just a drive! Geez, Doc…”

“A drive?” Sally studied him, the barest hint of hope in her eyes. “Why that specifically?”

Lightning shrugged. “It was just the first thing I thought of, I don’t know.” He ran a hand down his face. “I’m screwing this whole thing up, aren’t I?”

“No, no.” Sally tucked another lock behind her ear. “You’re fine, just… Sure. A drive sounds good.”

Doc met her gaze and he could tell they were both thinking the same thing. There were several places she could take him that might rekindle his memories…

The kid beamed. “Great! Then, I’ll pick you up later tonight?”

“Actually, I’ll pick you up, and I’ll bring milkshakes.”

“Cool. Sounds good.”

Sticking around longer meant the distant clouds in Sally’s eyes might turn into a rainstorm, so Doc rerouted the kid back to their walk.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone like her. You said she’s a lawyer? That’s insanely cool.”

As Lightning rambled on, Doc risked a look over his shoulder. Through the windows of the cafe, he could see Flo coming around the counter and wrapping Sally in her arms.

“I swear, this all feels like borrowed clothing,” the kid said, coming down the stairs and slipping his arms through the sleeve of his signature red jacket. “This is so not my style.”

They had finished their walk a little bit ago and Sally would be stopping by in a couple hours. Seeing as they would no doubt be going up to the ridges and plateaus, Doc had suggested a jacket to ward off the wind.

“Would you believe me if I told you that you’ve had that exact same jacket for at least three years?”

“Three years? This thing?”

“At least. In fact, you had it on when I first met you.”

The kid scrunched his nose. “Huh. Well, I guess it’s nice, but the red’s not really my color.”

Doc couldn't help but chuckle. “Have you noticed your race car? Son, everything about you is red.”

“Yeah?” Lightning chuckled, too, but the sound was half-hearted at best, drenched in that hesitant confusion that was becoming the norm rather than the exception. “I wonder who’s choice that was, ‘cause I can tell you one thing for sure: it wasn’t me.”

The kid gave another half-laugh, half-scoff, almost as a cap off the confusion he was trying to smother, but Doc wasn’t smiling anymore, nor was he amused. These little off-handed comments were snapshots of a Lightning he’d never known, an early, untainted Lightning who’d had only his mother and his own dreams to influence him.

As Doc sat there, wondering whether Lightning had been the one to create his own image or if Harv had something to do with it, the kid stuck his hands in his pockets…

… And pulled out a small black box.

Oh, Lord…

He stared at it for a long moment before a shaky hand lifted the top.

“Doc…” the kid breathed, never taking his eyes off the gem encrusted ring inside. “… Am I engaged?”

Doc heaved a sigh. There was no going back now.

“Not yet, but you’re almost there. You’ve been almost there for the last five months. Actually, you’ve been carrying that thing around in your pocket for about that long.”

“But-But I’m not ready to get married!”

“2009 you is,” Doc replied calmly.

“Yeah, but I’m not! I-I always told myself that I’d never get married!”

While the kid seemed hell-bent on getting all worked up, Doc forced himself to maintain a cool exterior. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“I’m guessing you know about my dad, right?”

“I do.”

“He left, and see?” Lightning waved a hand at his face. “I have his genes. Leaving people’s in my blood and I don’t want some future wife to have to risk that possibility. Oh my gosh, I think I’m gonna have a panic attack…”

“First of all, you’re not going to have a panic attack if you let yourself breathe. Second, leaving you and your mom wasn’t genetic, son. It was a choice. A choice your dad made that has no influence over your own decisions.”

The kid didn’t respond, but he did take a few deep breaths, so that was a start.

And Doc was left to wonder for the umpteenth time how they got here—and why they all had to stay in this hell for so long.

“It’s her, isn’t it…?” Lightning asked after a minute or two. “Sally?”

Doc just nodded.

“I… You know, I sorta figured… How long have we, uh… been together?”

“Close to three years, now.”

“Oh. I’ve… Well, I’ve never dated anyone for that long…” Lightning briefly closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. Then, he jammed the ring box back in his pocket. “I think I’m gonna go for a walk. I’ll be back before she gets here.”

As the front door closed with a little more force than necessary, Doc let himself crumble under the strain of it all, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands.

Why did everything only seem to be getting worse instead of better…?