Disclaimer: I do not own Speed Racer. That right belongs strictly to Speed Racer Enterprise (who secretly want to hire me to one job or another, they just don't know it yet). I'm just borrowing their characters and the 2008 movie's concepts.

Notes: It's "Turnover", Speed style. ;D I hope it lives up. o.O For you, Cassie. :D

Notes2: I'm going to see Speed Racer in Orlando's IMAX on the 14th, but it's seriously murder to not be seeing it right now. It's been a week … That'll be the seventh time, by the way, Racer X. xD

Warnings: Language, possible abuse of movie time line. … Maybe …

Flipped

The rays of sun that beat off the metal track were suffocating in the heat they produced, embracing the lungs as it was sucked into the body, inundating the skin in hopes of burning away the frail, protective barrier to boil up what flowed beneath. It was a valiant attempt at assassination, undoubtedly, and there were times when it succeeded – taking from one a lapse of time from their life in exchange for a temporary solitude of darkness, or stealing their very life-giving breath. However, the attempt was in vain today, as the only source to attack was bouncing up and down excitedly upon the red leather upholstery of a gleaming white car, and he was far too used to the bearing heat to even acknowledge its existence.

Insulting, perhaps, but what eight-year-old would notice?

As the glittering red Mach 4 sped down the Thunderhead Race Way, swinging around the Baritone Curve as though made from it, Speed Racer whooped loudly in excitement as he clutched the Mach 5's round steering wheel tightly in his small hands. His small legs jittered up and down with unsuppressed energy, vivid blue eyes rapt with attention as he watched his older brother shift the T-18- into fourth gear. He had been to Thunderhead dozens of times before – his mother had brought the whole family down for a picnic just last weekend – but this was different. This time, his mother was not hear to bribe him away from the metal of the track with some promised goody; his father unable to send him warning glares and a firm word if his foot got too close to the accelerator of the Mach 5 as he pretended that he, too, was up on the racetrack. No, this time it was only him and his brother. Rex had finally agreed to bring him to the track after making him promise he wouldn't say a word to their parents. Not that he would, anyway. He certainly was never in the mood to get yelled at by Pops …

'Besides, I'm eight now,' thought Speed, his chest puffing up a little. 'That's grown up. And Rex even parked the Mach 5 on the track.' And the last thought made him grin a little.

He was jarred from his thoughts quite suddenly by a dim screech of horror, and his eyes quickly darted back to the speeding racecar, narrowing to slim slits as he studied it. Just a second before, the racing Mach had been flying along just fine – Rex had obviously been enjoying the ride and in complete control of the vehicle. Now, however, its tires pulled one way and then the other as though it were a bronco trying to buck off an offending cowboy. Speed watched in stunned astonishment as it began to slow, shaking as if angry, giving the occasional twist as it approached the ever-dreaded dog bowls. His breath caught – had Rex burned out? Had he lost it? It just wasn't possible – it couldn't be. Rex … Rex was it. No one else could drive a car the way he could – no one else was a better driver. There was no way he could have burned out the Mach 4. His car. Speed cringed as he practically heard the gears grinding as the car slowed, wanting to look away but unable to. 'Fix it, Rex,' he pleaded. 'Fix it, fix it, fix it.'

Bam!

"Yeah!" Speed roared as the backlash pipes spewed iodine remnants as the Mach suddenly roared back to life. "Go, Rex, go!" His smile was wide as he watched his brother skid over the offending dog bowls as though they were nothing, tires hanging so dangerously close over the edge that it was breathtaking. He had done it, just as Speed knew he would. There was truly no driver in the world better than Rex, and even though Speed was beyond befuddled as to how Rex had fixed the ailing T-180, he just knew that he would. This was what he loved – watching Rex drive was what made his stomach twist in knots, his breath quicken. It was what gave him (as he often heard Pops mutter) heart attacks. To see his older flying this way and that, completely in control and totally at ease – it made him want to get out of bed every morning and go to school, just so that Rex would pick him up and maybe, just maybe, let Speed watch as he worked with the car. And as the Mach 4 sped across the finish line, brakes slamming to a stop without hesitation, Speed disregarded the orders to stay put in his seat, flying over the top of the car door instead of opening it, racing to the still running car.

"Rex!" He cried, launching himself at his older brother, beaming as he saw the other's grin. "Rex! That was amazing. I can't believe -- how did you -- Rex!" He latched his arms around the taller boy's neck and legs around his torso. "That was awesome! I've never seen anyone race like that, Rex. How? It was so cool," and he was unable to keep from laughing slightly as Rex pulled them both from the Mach 4 with ease, still feeding off the adrenaline, voice growing louder. "I thought you burned out; it was beginning to lose momentum! And then ... you just fixed it! And it just took off --."

" 'She', Speedy, not 'it'," Rex corrected, and Speed had to pull his head back to avoid being hit by the removing helmet, but there was a grin planted firmly on his face as he studied his brother. There was a light in Rex's hazel eyes, a brightness to his face – the only way Speed ever drew Rex when an assignment in class called for a family portrait – the only way he ever really pictured his brother in his head at all. "Wait, you saw all of that?"

Rex's voice called him from his thoughts, and he blinked in confusion, belatedly realizing he had been pushed back far enough to stare straight into, and not up at, his brother's eyes.

"Saw what?" Was Rex a mind-reader now, too? Had he heard … no, that was dumb. Stupid. Then what … oh! "Of course I did! It – um, she," he corrected shyly, remembering the absent reprimand too late. "Was gliding on the track just fine, but then she." 'Got it this time.' "Just started to shake, and twist, and I thought for sure you were going to break down, but then she just calmed. It was amazing!" By this time, he had been pulled back against his brother's chest and shoulder, and was so forced to stare up at his brother in complete adoration to try and get his point across and question heard. "How did you do it, huh Rex?" He repeated, and offered puppy-dog eyes now, the kind that always had his mother placing extra breakfast onto his plate, or got Pops to tone down yet another lecture. And when Speed was driven to use it on Rex (which wasn't that often), it worked on him, too.

But this time, just like the rest of the day, was different, and his shoulders slumped as Rex smiled slightly and shook his head.

"You'll understand when it's your turn, Speedy," he promised, and for some reason chuckled not long after. "But for now, I think it's time that we headed home." Home? Wait, what? "Mom's probably getting ready to put lunch on the table, and we're still here --."

"No she isn't!" Speed shook his head vigorously, ignoring the dizziness that ensued. They couldn't go home! They hadn't been here nearly long enough … he wasn't ready yet! It's only 12:30, Rex! She puts lunch on the table at 1:15 exactly, so we don't have to leave just yet! We still have time for you to go around the track at least two more times. Come on, Rex. Please? Please, please, please, please, please?" He was whining and he knew it, but couldn't bring himself to care. Instead, he brought his puppy-dog eyes back into full force, holding his breath as Rex sighed and gave him a look.

The youngest Racer son didn't like to do anything that could upset his brother, and it was very rarely that he did so. There was something about Rex that made him different – he would pull at his father's nerves all day long, and endlessly harass his mother until he got what he wanted. But Rex … Rex he just couldn't, as if he didn't deserve that kind of treatment. Something stopped him every time he went to his brother when he was in the kind of mood. Something soothed down his energy, quieted his voice when he was with the older boy. When he was around his brother, he wanted nothing more than to just be with him – to have Rex smile at him, hug him, compliment something he had done. More times than not his mother had tried to encourage him to parties and the such whenever he was out in the garage with Rex, or to convince Rex to "go out with the boys" when they were both sitting and watching television. He had heard Pops grumble something about "attached at the hip" when he saw them together, whatever that meant, and he was often spoken to by his teacher about needing other friends beside his brother. As that stood, Speed had grown quite content with ignoring everything Ms. Morgan said to him thereafter.

"I don't think so, Speedy," he heard his brother say reluctantly, lowering him to the ground, and Speed watched as he slowly leaned over to cut off the engine to the red Mach, missing the sensation of warmth already. And all of this was why he didn't want to leave, at least not yet. Out here, they're alone. There was no one to comment on how they spend too much time together, no one to give annoying pointed looks. And even though Speed didn't truly what it is they mean by it, he found it nerve-racking, and a deep pull of sadness would always fill his stomach.

Slowly, Speed's attention came back toward the present, blue gaze focusing on the Mach 4 that would soon enough be towed back to its holding at Thunderhead's garage until the race the following Saturday, and for a moment, he simply stared at her. He wondered, cautiously, what it would be like to one day race Rex on Thunderhead. Would Rex pull ahead – would he? Or would they be neck and neck as they pulled and curved and turned, sharing smiles every time they tossed each other a glance?

"Wanna go for a drive, Speedy?"

The question was so nonchalant that, for a second, Speed didn't even grace his brother's question with a serious thought. And then he allowed the words to sink in, blinking rapidly to realize that Rex was climbing back into the Mach 4, stunned as he smiled.

"But … but there's no passenger seat, Rex," Speed pointed out softly, unconsciously inching forward from internal desire. He could have sworn a light twinkled mischievously in his older brother's eye.

"Yeah, well … I figured it's time for you to drive on a real racetrack." A trademark shrug. Speed stopped moving. "If you're going to be a famous racecar driver one day, then you're going to have to start." 'Are you serious, Rex?' Speed thought silently, eyes darting between the red racecar and his grinning brother with uncertain excitement. 'You'll .. you'll let me drive? But …Mom will have a cow, and Pops … Pops will kill you if he finds out.' His thoughts ceased as the driver's eyes widened dramatically. "Or have you decided you want to go be a lawyer now? Is that what you want, Speedy? Speed Racer, the lawyer?"

"No!" The cry left his mouth before his mind could even comprehend the word, and without another second of hesitation, the eight-year-old darted to the car, throwing himself onto Rex's lap and grasping the Mach's crescentwheel tightly in his hands. "I'm Speed Racer the racer," he growled to his brother, just as he did every other time the older boy brought up their mother's dream for him. And then he paused, realizing exactly where it was he was, grip relaxing on the wheel as he turned to look at Rex timidly. "Um, what do I do?" And his brother laughed.

"First, you put this on," he ordered lightly, and Speed pressed himself closer to Rex's chest as the clasps of harness came out to wrap around them both, eyeing them suspiciously as they clicked into their proper holders. "And now the helmet." And he couldn't help but frown in exasperation, really, as the too-big helmet was dropped onto his head. "Don't give me that look Speedy. And latch it, or it won't stay on." Slowly, with more playfulness than annoyance, Speed obeyed. "Thank you. Now, you can't reach the pedals just yet, I know, so here's what you're going to do. Push your feet down on mine for the accelerator or the break – kick it if you want to change gears, okay?"

Speed stiffened at that. "You're not going to tell me when?" He demanded, and suddenly the prospect of driving the Mach 4 didn't seem so appealing. He felt Rex lean into him slightly, as though to offer some sort of support, and Speed found himself sitting up straighter because of it.

"I'll tell you if you're wrong," his brother amended, reaching up to flick on the proper switches, and Speed couldn't help but feel oddly calmer as the Mach 4 began to fully rumble beneath him. This … Rex, the car … it felt … right. "I think you can handle the rest. You better hurry though, Speedy. Your math may be right, but I think we can only go around once --."

'No!' At the barb, Speed pressed his foot down on Rex's, nearly flooring the accelerator as the Mach flew off in a wave.

The harsh wind blew against his face as they roared down the track, and his eyes watered burningly at the assault. However, as they zoomed around the first dog bowl, Speed found his hands sliding down the crescentwheel until they fell into a place that felt right, a light buzzing noise in his ears seeming to guide him around the second bowl, the Mach remaining dead-center the entire time. His feet remained stead-fast on the accelerator and second gear, via Rex's own two feet, and there was a crazy smile implanted firmly upon his face. It felt amazing, like he was coming home to Mom's pancakes, Pops' garage, and Rex's steadfast and unwavering company. It was perfect, and when he spotted Crusher's Turn not far up ahead, followed by the infamous and aptly titled Jump, he felt his heart practically beating to escape his chest in its own excitement, and he kicked Rex's foot over to third to convey.

"You okay, Speedy?" Rex's voice boomed in his ear, sounding slightly off, but Speed quickly tacked it up as the wind as they roared across the fourth curve.

"Yeah, this is awesome!" He cried back, whipping the wheel to enter the last dog bowl. "Can I go over the Jump?" 'Please?'

"Maybe not this time, bud." He couldn't stop, and maybe didn't try to stop, the slump of his body against Rex's in disappointment. His mind, sounding alarmingly close to Mom, berated him for it, saying that he should be grateful that Rex even had him out here at all, and that is was unfair to be upset that he couldn't do everything. The words were chased off quickly, though, by a gentle jab on his shoulder from Rex's, and he felt his brother lean his head closer to speak directly into his ear. . "Tell you what, though. How about you take the Crusher's Turn, huh? Will that be good enough for you, Mr. Racecar Driver?" And though it seemed equally wrong to be excited for the give-in, Speed released an excited little yelp and leaned forward in determination, hardly noticing the extra set of hands that slowly came up to shadow his own on the wheel as they. He could see the turn right in front of them, the sun beaming off of it so brightly it was almost blinding.

'This is it,' he thought in realization, and his limbs suddenly felt light. 'This is it. This is my chance. This … I can do this. But we're going too slow. It won't work. Rex, what are you doing?' Speed's eyes narrowed in thought. Rex was keeping the car in third because that's where Speed had put him. But even now, if he kicked it over, it would be too late to gain the speed needed to complete the turn successfully. His eyebrows scrunched further, thinking rapidly. He remembered something … Pops saying to Rex once to throw down two gears incase he was ever in such a situation. But which? 'Second sounds good,' he thought determinedly, and slowly, discreetly, pulled his foot from atop of Rex's. 'I can't reach fourth.'

"Okay, Speedy," he heard his brother bellow into his ear as the Mach 4 neared the beginning of Crusher's Turn. "We're going to slow down just a little, you can't take this turn too fast – or too sharp. Easy with the wheel, Spe--." 'That's not right, Rex.' And with as much strength as he could muster from not being able to reach the gear, Speed's foot pressed second.

What followed was a blur that haunted Speed for years to come. Above Rex's suddenly harsh breathing, the Mach wailed in pain as her gears grinded together in assault, shaking in a horrific manner was the tires quickly became unsteady. Crying out in alarm, Speed yanked the wheel to the right completely even as he felt Rex go for the brake, eyes slamming close when he realized the left-side tires were no longer on the track.

"Shit!" He heard Rex roar, and he slammed himself back as far as he could into his elder brother's chest as he felt arms come up to wrap around him.

The last thing he felt was an immense, painful blow to his head and face before everything erupted into painful white.

.T.

He was sitting in the Mach 5, resting his head back against the top edge of the red leather passenger seat. For the first time in a while, he was quiet, blue eyes closed as he momentarily allowed himself to forget the events of the day – to pretend as though they had never even happened. A nightmare, maybe. He could call it that. Mom would not approve, but she didn't need to know. Geez, she didn't need to know about today at all, and he could just tell her about the "nightmare" without worrying about her catching on.

Then again, she could do what she did last time, and speak with Ms. Morgan about getting him to participate with his classmates during recess. Nope. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all.

"You know those kids are wrong, don't you?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and if Speed was honest with his nightmare theory, then it didn't exist at all. But he could feel the force behind the words – not brutal, not cruel. Caring, soft, and tender. A tone that he wanted to pull into a physical blanket and wrap around himself, burying into its protective warmth forever. "Hey, Speed. Speedy, look at me, buddy." And he did, slowly cracking open his eyes to meet those of his brother, which were darting endless looks between him and the road.

Rex. Rex was his hero, more so than Pops, though Speed would never admit that. Rex was always there for him, no matter if he was doing something or if he was miles away – he dropped it all the second Speed needed him. Like today. Today he had just revved up the engine, swooped Speed into his strong arms, and whisked him away from the harsh taunts of his classmates, fighting them back with murderous, Pops-like glares as they made their escape. He had been more gallant than any superhero Speed had ever seen on television, and as he studied him now, the expression was still there.

"It hurts, Rex," he whispered, and even to his own ears it sounded so pathetic that he closed his eyes once more. He felt the Mach 5 slow to a stop, heard the click of a releasing seat belt, but didn't even flinch as he felt his brother's stare turn unhindered toward him.

"Listen, Speedy," he heard Rex say softly. "People … people aren't always nice, okay? Sometimes they can be mean, even if what they're being mean about isn't true. And a lot of times, they're mean to someone who doesn't deserve it. Someone like you." Speed's eyes remained closed as he felt Rex's hand on his shoulder, though they burned something fierce as he felt himself being pulled into a tight, fervent hug. "They were wrong, Speedy," Rex repeated. "Don't you dare let them make you believe things that aren't true. Ever. Can you promise me that, Speed?" The last words were whispered into his ear, and not trusting himself to speak without bawling like a baby, Speed nodded into his brother's shoulder, frowning slightly as he felt a bit of wetness leak from the corner of his eyes and down his face. A soothing hand came up to rub against his back. "Don't cry, Speedy," his brother quieted. "You're okay. I'm here. I'm with you."

"It hurts," Speed repeated, burying his head further into the crook. He felt Rex kiss the top of his head as though to soothe an injury.

"It's okay." The hand continued the comforting circles. "I'm right with you, Speedy. You're going to be okay, bud. Open your eyes for me, okay?" His head shook harshly.

"I can't," he enforced, voice higher. "It hurts, Rex. It hurts." The hand stilled, and though he was still held against his brother's chest, he suddenly felt incredibly far away from the older boy.

"Then wake up," came the command, and Speed frowned through his tears.

"What?"

"No, no, no, no, no. No, no, no, no, no. Speed! Speed, wake up! Wake up!" The voice was Rex's, but it sounded so far away, further than Rex was.

"What's going on?" He demanded, trying to pull back, to open his eyes. But the arms held him firmly in place – he couldn't see.

"Listen, Speedy," Rex encouraged gently.

"C'mon, Speedy. Please. Please wake up. Please, Speedy. Come on, little brother. Don't do this to me. Please." It was still Rex, and the voice sounded so pained, so hurt, that Speed's insides clenched.

"I did something wrong," he whispered into his brother's neck, and the arms tightened briefly, comfortingly, before releasing him.

"Wake up, Speed." His eyes continued to ignore his commands, remaining sealed even as he pulled away. Even as the seat of the Mach 5 beneath him began to fade, and his feet were touching the ground.

"Rex?" He called out desperately.

"Speedy, you know what happens if you don't wake up, don't you?" Speed's body shook in relief at the sound of his brother's voice.

"Rex." He was confused. The ground beneath his feet began to feel funny.

"You can't be a racecar driver. At all. You won't even be allowed around cars or tracks ever again. You'll be too boring. Hear that, bud?"

"Stop teasing me!" He yelled

"No racing, no cars, no tracks, nothing."

The ground beneath him suddenly disappeared, and he fell back only to land on something soft … familiar. The embrace from before, the gentle hands cradling him. Rex. Rex, Rex, Rex, Rex, Rex. He tried to speak, but nothing more than a small, high noise came out. Apparently, however, this was enough, for the arms suddenly tightened, and he could feel himself shifting in response.

""That's right, Speedy." For some reason, Rex sounded hysterically happy. "You won't be Speed Racer the WRL racing champion, you'll be Mr. Racer, the lawyer."

"'ilnot." Speed frowned at the sound of his own voice – weak and thick with something he wanted to but could not swallow. His eyes fluttered under his command, but before he could try to open them, he was crushed against a very familiar chest so tightly that his body practically raged its protest. He cringed slightly – his head was pounding harshly, his face wet and sticky, and if his tongue was telling the truth, his two front teeth were gone. Ms. Morgan was going to love that when he had read from the book.

But what happened?

"Rex?" He struggled slightly in the driver's grasp until his was allowed to move a bit – pull his head away to look around. He had to narrow his eyes against the pain to see that they were laying on Thunderhead, and a slightly glance to the back right revealed the Mach 4 on her side, badly beaten and bleeding red paint all over the silver metal of the track. And then he remembered driving her across the dog bowls, of hitting second the same time Rex had gone for the brakes, of the T-180 spinning out of control and finally turning over. And though he knew it wasn't a good thing that he had trashed his brother's car, his head began to swim as the sound of an approaching helicopter began to make itself known to his ears. All he could remember was the feel of the racing Mach beneath his hands as he allowed his aching head to fall back against his brother's chest.

"'at was awesome."

.T.

He was, for the first time in a long, long time, unbearably hot. And though his stubborn streak begged to differ, Speed somehow know that it wasn't due to the large bandage that had been wrapped around his head by the doctors that had arrived on the helicopter. The leather of the Mach 5's passenger seat was sticky beneath his legs, her joyful rumbling a burden to his aching body. Just an hour ago, he had been sitting next to Rex on a gurney as their wounds were attended to, rambling on and on to his brother about how amazing the drive had been, and how awesome the turnover. He had grinned insanely toward any doctor who had asked him how he was feeling, and then nodded toward them seriously every time Rex insisted that they did not need a trip to the hospital, they would be fine, thank you very much. Speed had always insisted that his brother was quite capable of getting anything he wanted from anyone because of who he was, and the case with the doctors had proven his point. He had made sure to inform Rex of that for ten minutes straight, and Mr. Silvertine, too, before Rex had carried him (against his protests) cautiously toward the Mach 5 and put him inside to take home.

It was a half hour drive from Thunderhead Race Way to their quiet, colorful little street, and it was during that time that Speed's energy had plummeted to nonexistence, and he was left only with the harsh reality of exactly what it was he had done.

He should have trusted that Rex knew what he was doing when he had taken the Mach 4 toward Crusher's Turn at such a slow pace. His brother certainly knew more about racing than he did – knew what to do and when to do it. And he had promised to tell Speed if he was doing something wrong, so obviously the entire situation had been right before Speed had taken things into his own hands and hit the second gear.

Now, the Mach was still sitting on Thunderhead, practically melted onto the metal and possibly not able to race on Saturday. Rex's head was bashed on the side – the cut was gruesome to look at and would occasionally ooze a little bit of blood and clear liquid, and it obviously hurt, if the occasional wince was anything to go by. And his brother was bound to get into trouble with Pops the second they pulled into the garage because of the whole ordeal.

'And it wasn't even Rex's fault.' He thought forlornly, staring out at the scenery slowly passing by. 'What if he hates me for it?' And the thought was so distressing that his mouth crept into a slim, straight line of distress, his eyes burning ever-so-slightly in warning.

And if he admitted it, he wasn't so surprised when the Mach 5 slowly drew to a stop just a block from their home. He flinched slightly at the sound of the stick shifting into park. 'What if he hates me?' And though he could feel Rex's gaze burning into his form pointedly, he refused to look up, though he shuddered at how familiar this situation was.

'He deserves something,' his mind berated. 'Apologize.'

"I'm sorry for turning us over, Rex." His voice was shaky, uncertain in its soft tone, and he continued to look out the side as he continued. 'Please don't be mad.' "I'm sorry I tore up 'e Mach 4 and 'at I got us hurt and I'll take all 'e blame when Pops finds out and I understand if you never let me drive again and --."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Speed flinched again at his brother's incredulous interjection. "Speedy, you don't really think I'm mad about all of that, do you?" 'Yes.' He turned his head, keeping his eyes lowered, though it appeared Rex wasn't going to have any of that. "Speed Racer, look at me." Cautiously, he raised his eyes, locking them with Rex's, surprised to see sadness in the hazel gaze he loved so much that matched his own. However, though the lack of apparent anger brought along some hope, the seriousness of what he had done warned him from expecting too much. boy turned around, but refused to look up. Rex blinked. "Speed Racer, look at me." Reluctant blue eyes did just that, filled with a mixture of hope and fear that had Rex's gut wrenching. "The turnover was an accident, Speedy. I'm not saying what you did wasn't wrong, because it was. You should have asked before putting it in second." Speed looked back down. "But you didn't mean to flip the Mach. That was an accident, Speedy, and all drivers have them. All real drivers."

"All real drivers." 'Yeah, Rex?' Speed finally looked up completely, offering his brother a shy smile. All real drivers …

"You seemed upset earlier," he argued softly, sounding more accusing than he meant to, but too tired to take it back, though he felt guilty when Rex flinched.

"I wasn't upset, Speedy," he admitted. "I was worried. When you wouldn't wake up … it scared me. I thought you were hurt really bad, and that you weren't going to wake up again. I was … scared. Really scared." Speed froze at the admission. Scared … Rex? But Rex wasn't scared of anything! Pops and Mom and Sparky and everyone else always referred to him as fearless – Speed couldn't recall a time having ever seen Rex anything but.

"I'm sorry," he repeated in a whisper, and before he knew what he was doing, he reached over and clutched the seventeen-year-old's hand, only to be pulled into a close, gentle one-armed hug.

"Just don't do it again, Speedy," Rex commanded, and he kept his arm locked tightly around Speed's shoulders and he put the Mach 5 back into drive. "Now, as for letting you drive again … why don't we just wait and see if I'll be allowed to drive again, okay bud? It's 2:30 … I'd say we're definitely late for lunch, and that they know something's up." And despite the return of Rex's warmth Speed had relished in earlier that day, he shuddered at the prospect of facing their parents. Geez, he could just see it now …

"What do we tell Mom?" He felt Rex shrug as they pulled up to the house.

"Just tell her what you told me, kiddo. That it was 'awesome'."

And that was what he did. The second the Mach 5 was in the garage and once again in park, Speed through a grin onto his face and jumped from the car, ignoring the aches of his body as he ran toward their mother, not even faltering at the sight of Pops just behind her.

"Mom, yeah! You should have seen it!"

And even though he didn't really believe the words he was telling his mother, about how awesome the flip was and how no, his head didn't hurt, he kept the smile on his face. Maybe, just maybe, if he played this right, Pops wouldn't yell at Rex for being careless and Mom would still let them have their lunch dessert. Granted, from the way Pops was now looking at him, he could be bringing that lecture onto himself. But he didn't really care.

As long as Rex didn't get in trouble, then nothing else really mattered.

To be continued …

Almost 1000 words longer than part one of Turnover. Guess Speed thinks more than Rex does. :3 Part two should be out tomorrow.

Note on Speed pre-wake up. The part is taking place during an actual memory of Speed's from an earlier point in his life, this first time Rex actually "rescued" him from something. It's symbolic for this piece, and it's also a oneshot I'm working on.

I really hoped this lived up to expectations at least to a C level. I've discovered I'm not too good at a child's perspective. The ones I've done have been in the Harry Potter world, and we all make him more intelligent and mature than he should be in that category. ;) So my most sincere apologies if it just didn't work. I tried.

On the lighter side, I've got about, um … -counts- between 10 and 15 more oneshots planned for Speed Racer, and 1 multi-chaptered SR story. They should all be out by the end of this month, should work and school cooperate, so keep an eye out.

Anyway, good or bad, I'd like to hear what y'all thought about this as opposed to Turnover, so please click the review button and let me know. :D And hey! I've posted, so I'm fully expecting an update from Cassie (JCassie241) and Dawn (DawningStar). No more Writer's Block, you two. I'm watching. Ha!

Always,

Me