WARNING: PLEASE GO WATCH THE CARS 3 TEASER BEFORE READING THIS, I SWEAR IT WILL MAKE A LOT MORE SENSE AFTERWARDS

…Ahem… wait for it…

…aaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHHH OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS ME MY METAL BABIES ARE COMING BACK TO ME THAT TEASER WAS SO GOOD AND WELL-ANIMATED AND FEELSY OH MY GOSH I CAN'T WAIT FOR 2017 SERIOUSLY JUST TAKE MY MONEY

…Okay okay, maybe I'm just a little excited XD

Seriously though, after that teaser got uploaded, I knew I just had to write something. So here's a little AU thing I thought up for the teaser. It's definitely not a "prediction" or anything like that – I just desperately needed to get this out of my system before I wrote anything else.

With all that said, enjoy your feels! :D

DISCLAIMER: I might not own Cars and its amazing characters, but that doesn't mean I can't still emotionally torture them :DDD (…sorry…)

"And there goes McQueen, catching up to Jackson Storm with a vengeance!"

Racing had to be one of the most exhilarating and yet terrifying sports of all time. High-speed driving, screaming fanclubs on the sidelines, listening to competitors' taunts and jeers as they struggled to catch up– it was amazing how the very same thing that brought cars so much joy in their lives could also end them just as quickly.

"He's picking up speed, and– oh… oh no, wait a minute– "

With any kind of sport, injury was the price of entry. Likewise, crashes were just another part of racing. Ethical do-gooders always called foul, but the fact remained true. Mach 9 speeds required immense training and practice – no everyday Joe could just drive onto the track willy-nilly – but even the top racers suffered an occasional wreck.

"Darrell, it's – McQueen is fading! Fading FAST!"

When that occasional wreck did inevitably happen, the aftermath played out the same as it did each time – the crowd let out a collective gasp – the high-pitched screeches of other racers' tires filled the stadium as they halted – strewn pieces of metal tinkled against the asphalt – smoke rose from the injured car, their frame viciously bent and scarred from a wrong turn or a blown-out tire –

But this was supposed to be an ordinary race.

~x~

For a long time Lightning McQueen thought he'd been dreaming. It had to have been a dream – then the pain erupted in his cab again.

He could hear the thud of his own engine. His roof throbbed. His tires burned from their shredded rubber. His frame ached with an intensity he knew he'd never felt before. With each ragged breath he took, another bolt of agony shot through him.

He wanted to move but couldn't. He wanted to speak but didn't. All he did was replay it all – that stupid, stupid mistake –

A hasty turn. A burst tire. Swerving. Slipping. His engine lodging in his throat as the side wall shot right for him – faster – faster –

– An explosion of pain in his side – then in his fender – feeling his spoiler tear clean off – his mind still trying to process everything going on as his cab slammed into the track over and over again – realizing what was happening – realizing that this was real –

A new noise cut through the haze. High-pitched, wailing sirens. Voices surrounded him, muffled due to his cab's incessant pounding. He let out a few soft moans as tires prodded at him, probably checking the severity of his wounds.

Then, in the midst of the muttering, was a clear, familiar scream.

Mustering every ounce of strength he had left, McQueen opened his eyes a slit.

He almost immediately shut them again – they stung, burned from the smoke streaming from below his fenders. Tears blurred his vision. And yet, he could still make out the series of blobs just beyond the nurse care in front of him, all screaming at him, all leaping away from the security cars trying to keep them at bay.

One rusty brown. One light blue. One yellow. One small and blue. One black. One a pale, apple green. One a dark, camouflage green.

McQueen shut his eyes. He coughed. Bitter, metallic oil filled his mouth.

"…M-Mater… Sally… Guys…"

He could only imagine how they were reacting – Mater, in hysterical tears, screaming at him to please be okay – Sally doing the same, practically climbing over security to get a better look at him – Guido and Luigi, too busy sobbing into their tires to fight the security – Sherriff, Ramone, Fillmore, and Sarge's front bumpers dropping open, too horrified for words –

McQueen tried to swallow and choked on his own oil. He recalled the accident – every last gruesome second of it – and tears filled his eyes.

He'd screwed up. He'd gotten cocky. After all these years of having it in the bag, owning it up and brushing it off when he didn't – he'd let his ego take over again. One wrong move. That was all it took. One wrong move.

Dark spots danced in his vision. Something sharp jabbed into his side, and a strong numbness spread throughout his frame. He wasn't sure if he preferred it to the throbbing pain.

Just before he slipped away, a final car entered his mind's eye – deep blue paint, silvery chrome lining his edges – racing stickers decorated his frame – he stared at McQueen, his eyes tired, gloomy.

McQueen didn't stay to watch him shake his cab at him.

"…D-Doc… I… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

…Whoo, man, that was a bit more angsty than normal. Then again, that trailer kinda called for something like this.

Anyway, how was that? I know I haven't written anything for Cars in a while, but honestly, after that trailer, I am completely inspired again! :DDD So definitely expect some more Cars fics in the future!

Now, if you all excuse me, I really need to go to bed. Have a good one, my lovely readers!