Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I want to get a tattoo.”

Ramone’s face lit up just like Lightning knew it would— hoped it would.

“Dude! You totally should! I don’t care what kind you get, I support you one hundred percent.”

The grin on his face felt good, even as his left thigh burned beneath his jeans. The old wound that had refused to heal without leaving its mark.

The scar that marred his once perfect skin.

Lightning suppressed a shiver and widened his smile. “Thanks. Yeah, I was hoping you’d know a good place? I mean, where’d you get yours?”

Flexing his bicep, Ramone made the yellow and orange flames on his skin dance. “I got this at a little shop in Los Angeles, but there’s a nice place a couple hours east of here that you could try.”

“Are they good?”

Ramone shrugged. “They’ve never steered me wrong. Not so far, at least. Man, nothing is worse than a bad tattoo job.”

“I bet. So… Where is it, exactly?”

“Hey, if you want, I can take you there. Road trip, dude, me and you.”

“Actually,” Lightning said as relief flooded his veins, “that’d be really great. I’d appreciate having an expert there because, honestly? I have no clue what I’m doing.”

He just knew he needed it gone; needed to stop seeing the thin white line every time he got dressed in the morning.

Ramone chuckled. “I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but I do know a thing or two about body art—for both cars and people. Do you know what you want?”

“I… hadn’t really thought about that yet…”

Just something to cover it up. To make it go away.

Because it was imperfect.

And he was Lightning McQueen. He had an image to upkeep. Never mind that none of his fans could actually see the scar. Never mind that literally no one could see it but him.

He was a racing star.

He needed to be perfect.

“Try for perfection or don’t try at all, right, baby? But what am I talking about? You’re already perfect and it’s all just gonna keep getting better from here.  I mean, as long as you can keep it up, kapish?”

Brushing the familiar voice away, Lightning shrugged. “I mean, the obvious choice is a lightning bolt, but I could also go with a #95 or something. I don’t know, I was hoping you’d have some ideas.”

Though he didn’t think it was possible, Ramone’s eyes grew even brighter. “Bro, you could even do some sort of combination! We can sketch out a few things before we leave…”

Thanks to a slow business week, Ramone was able to close up shop the next day and they hit the road in the morning. When asked where he was off to, Lightning had given Doc a vague response and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

That didn’t matter, though. Not yet. It was something he’d deal with later.

With every mile, he could feel his spirits begin to lift. It was stupid, he told himself, but crashing his sports car into a fountain and then landing in jail with Cal had been easier than dealing with the jagged little line streaking across his thigh.

If he could only stop obsessing about it… Easier said than done. Actually, it would be a simpler feat to win every single championship race than force himself to stop thinking about his imperfection.

His scar.

It’s not the kind of thing Harv had been talking about all that time ago and it didn’t impact his performance on the track in any way, yet it was still there, taunting him every time he had the misfortune of seeing it.

Shorts had been the obvious fashion choice that day and by the time they arrived at the tattoo parlor, Lightning had settled on, of course, a lightning bolt. Ramone had thrown his own touch into the design, creating a mix between his signature bolt and his car number.

“I do have to warn you,” Ramone said as they parked, “if you ever end up driving a different car someday—or way down the line when you retire—you’ll still be stuck with that number.”

Lightning shrugged. “Then it’ll be a memory, I guess.”

“Hey, great attitude, bro. All right, let’s get in there!”

Everything was going exactly like he’d wanted, with smooth sailing all the way… until they got inside and Ramone saw where he wanted to put the tattoo.

“I don’t care how you do it,” Lightning explained to the tattoo artist. “Just cover the whole thing up.”

“You got it.”

As the artist prepared to work his magic, Lightning found himself fighting not to squirm under Ramone’s curious gaze.

“You’re sure you don’t want to put it somewhere more noticeable? Like, maybe your shoulder, arm, or ankle?”

Lightning eyed the long, nasty scar. He could feel the phantom memory of skin tearing open as he and Cal smashed into that fountain. “Nah, I think here’s a good spot.”

“Why?”

“Does there have to be a reason?”

“Let me break it down for you…” Ramone took a breath and crossed his arms. “A tattoo is one of the most permanent things you’ll ever do in your life. You don’t choose the place you want to put it unless you’ve got a good reason.”

“Look,” Lightning said, clamping down quickly on his rising irritation, “I’m gonna get it there, okay? I’ve got a reason and it’s a good one too. Besides, you’ll sort of be able to see it peeking out when I have shorts on.”

Ramone had studied him for a second after that, his eyes softening almost to the point of… was that sadness…?

“Scars are memories, too, you know,” he added, voice quieter now.

Lightning scoffed, shaking his head and willing the artist to move faster. Ramone looked like he wanted to object, to forget the whole thing and stop the needle before it could do its irreversible work.

But he kept his lips pursed and leaned back against the wall.

Besides, it’s not totally irreversible…

People got tattoos removed all the time, Lightning reminded himself. If I ever get tired of it, I can just take it off.

Yeah.

Yeah, it’s fine.

Sure, the process hurt more than he’d thought, but it was fine. And having to stare at that scar every day hurt way more than any needle, though it couldn’t top the ache that had begun to creep into his chest ever since Ramone had voiced his well-meant concerns.

Well, Lightning didn’t know what to tell his friend. It’s my skin, I can do whatever I want. And for the past three weeks, he’d wanted nothing more than to get rid of that darn scar. Maybe he’d jumped the gun a little, and maybe he should’ve tried anti-scar cream or something first, but what’s done was done now.

And he had to admit, the tattoo looked pretty cool. Despite his earlier misgivings, Ramone clearly thought so, too.

“That was definitely the right design,” he gushed. “I still think it would’ve looked great on your arm, though.”

“Yeah, well…” Lightning felt like the large majority of his replies lately had been shrugs, but he could help the way his shoulders bobbed right then.

He couldn’t see it anymore; couldn’t even find it.

Mission accomplished.

Ramone’s voice was casual when they got back to the car, and not in that way Lightning found so annoying—the kind that clearly meant someone was pretending they weren’t trying to pry when, really, all they cared about was getting up in your business.

No, it was just… normal. Curious. It was genuine.

“So, where’d you get it?”

Lightning strapped in. “What?”

“You know, that scar.”

“Oh. Actually, it was kind of funny…” As Lightning related the tale of his and Cal’s late-night escapade, he realized he was grinning. “Doc didn’t think it was very funny, and I had to get a few stitches, but I don’t know, it was an exciting time.”

Ramone laughed. “That sounds like one way to put it. Sounds like a good memory, too. Why do you want to forget it?”

“Oh, I don’t.”

The skeptical look Ramone flashed at him was way too Doc-like for Lightning’s taste. “Dude, you just spent the last two and a half hours covering it up.”

“Yeah, but…” But what?

But I hate it and it reminds me that I’m not perfect?

Of course, you’re not perfect. No one is.

Right, okay, then I’m not perfect enough. There’s a difference.

Lightning took a breath and shrugged. This conversation was already getting old.

Now you are. Or, at least, you’re on your way there. Try for perfection or don’t try at all, right?

Right…

It was funny, Harv had been out of his life for years and yet Lightning still felt him controlling the reins from afar. The man’s memory and “advice” would creep into Lightning’s mind when he least expected it.

And, just like when Harv had been around, he felt compelled by some invisible force to listen.

But he couldn’t tell Ramone that. He could tell anyone that. If he did, it might get back to Doc somehow, and he’d promised to stop listening to the phantom ravings of a man who hadn’t cared about him, not really.

Glancing at Ramone, Lightning fixed a smile on his face. “Hey, thanks for coming with me. I appreciate it more than you know.”

Though still a bit confused by Lightning’s choice of tattoo location, Ramone grinned and waved a hand. “Don’t mention it. I've been secretly rooting for you to get a tattoo since we first met.”

At this, Lightning couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, come on. You have not. ”

A shrug. “Well, it feels like that long. Hungry? We can grab something on the way back.”

“What? And betray Flo’s Cafe? What if she finds out you got a burger and milkshake somewhere else?”

Ramone put a finger to his lips. “Shh… No one has to know but us.”

As Lightning laughed again, a small pang reverberated through his chest.

Maybe he shouldn’t have covered up the scar… Ramone had him second-guessing himself and he hated it. He’d been so set on the location, but now…

Shut up. It’s done now. You can’t change it.

Besides, now you don’t have to see it again.

Right…

It was supposed to feel final, feel good when he finally got the thing covered up. It was supposed to make him feel relieved.

So, why didn’t it? Why did he feel more confused than ever?

And why, after all this time, wouldn’t Harv’s voice leave him alone…?