AN: I have always been a loving fan of Cars, especially Doc Hudson. I've kicked around ideas like this for years and at one point had a whole back story in the works. I might eventually dig it back out of the tattered notebooks I have stowed away. This is really just to test the waters.

Humanized. I love the movie but can't write a vehicle. Let me know what you think!

The racing world left him behind. Jesse Hudson must come to terms with the hand he's been dealt.

He'd just dropped everything and decided to drive. Two days and three packs of cigarettes later found him at a cross roads with less than a quarter tank of gas left.

Should have stopped those two miles back, who knew when the next station would appear. He didn't feel much like walking.

He didn't have a gas can.

He was almost out of cigarettes.

He flipped the Zippo lighter closed with a metallic thunk and tossed it onto the dash along with the unlit cigarette. Sighing gustily, he shifted into reverse and did a quick three point turn to go back the way he'd come. With the evening quickly turning to night he flipped the headlights on, leaned back and drove with one hand casually draped over the wheel. Fifty-five miles per hour was nothing compared to what he used to drive.

The cobalt Hudson pulled silently into the run down gas station and he made it a point to be as inconspicuous as possible. He hated the questions, the remarks, but most of all the admiring looks. The celebrity status was no longer a welcome one.

Now he was just Jesse Hudson, regular joe from down south. The sooner fans moved on to the next up and coming name the better.

And good riddance.

Scrubbing a hand through short dark hair, he let the screen door of the gas station swing closed behind him with a bang. A full tank and five more packs of cigarettes should get him...well...somewhere.

He left the dusty, weed ridden, convenient store and soon found himself back at the crossroads he'd previously been contemplating. Jesse let the vehicle idle in neutral for the time being, looking in either direction while reaching blindly for the previously abandoned cigarette. His motions were automatic as he found the polished brass lighter again and used it. He read over the twisted and dented junction signs labeling the intersection before leaning across the passenger seat to pull out the map.

Well...he'd made it a lot further than he intended...

His eyes darted from the small print up to the road signs surrounding him and back down.

There wasn't anything back in Georgia, unless of course he wanted to always be known as The former Fabulous Hudson Hornet. Last he'd heard they were already phasing out the model and revamping the vehicles to all meet specific regulations. The sport was changing. Positions being created, appointed officials were now deciding what was regulation and what was not.

That wasn't for him.

And if what he'd heard about Nash Motors buying out Hudson Motor Car Company was true, then he most certainly wanted nothing to do with the sport. His brows lowered at the thought, still studying the printed highways in front of him.

Even Joe had left. The last thing Jesse had ever expected was to return to the main offices and find Joe had signed on with another driver. He was Joe's driver, he had been the one to win twenty-seven of thirty-four races in '52. Not some upstart kid with bright eyes, a big hat, and smiles a mile long.

But that's what accidents did to you, that's what spending seven months in and out of the hospital did to a career.

He'd missed nearly an entire season, had stayed away from the rumors and murmurings. Jesse had ignored the growing media coverage of the nationally growing sport and had instead concentrated on himself and on his car.

That didn't matter now.

He was startled from his increasingly resentful thoughts when ash from the cigarette fell onto the map he held. Brushing it away quickly, he finished what was left and crushed the end into the ashtray. Letting the map fall to the side in a crinkled mess he went back to contemplating his decision.

The road he sat on curved to the right, signs and arrows indicating he'd eventually make it back to where he'd started out from or possibly some place up north depending on what exits he took. The left was a dusty looking, beaten up goat path of a road, but if the signs were to be believed, it somehow met up with one of the major highways leading to the west coast.

Well, he'd made it this far already.

He turned the radio on, quickly sliding the tuner with a look of near betrayal when all he heard was racing announcements. Finding a local rock and roll station he patted the dashboard of the Hudson Hornet heartily. "Well ol' boy what d'you think about goin' west?"

So with Elvis Presley's Hound Dog as his accompaniment, he shifted into first, let the clutch up slowly and started down the road.

"Was always more of a dirt fan anyway."

AN2: When I originally posted this back in...2015? 'Joe' was originally Smokey, but after seeing Cars 3 I've come up different ideas for the character. I liked Pixar's version of Smokey better :)