Planes and its characters are owned by Disney (damn greedy jackals). Austin and a few other background OCs are mine.

The only reason I published this story at all was because I was curious as to whether or not anyone was capable of relating to or understanding how the main character feels.

This story is dedicated to introverts, shut-ins, shy folks, victims of abuse, and generally lonely people everywhere. Enjoy.

Fear and sadness took hold of Austin as he listened to the sound of his step father and his mother arguing again just outside his bedroom door. Looking down at his wheels he noticed how big they were compared to the rest of him. They were slightly disproportionate the way all young vehicles' wheels are. As he studied his tires, a glimmering drop hit the ground before him. Across his cold, dark, empty room was a mirror. When he gazed into it his reflection appeared to be a small child with his large, innocent brown eyes wide with terror. His silver fenders glistened in the gloom as hot tears streamed down them. His room was dim and vacant so he refocused his attention on the strip of light coming from beneath the closed door which was repeatedly disturbed by the wheels of the two bickering cars before it. Suddenly, the door rattled violently as one of the vehicles was shoved against it.

Then Austin's mother yelled out, "Don't you push me!"

Austin could feel rage bubbling up inside his little body but he didn't move.

Then, he heard the sound of their family's main garage door as it opened and tires squealing as an engine peeled away. How he wished that had been his step father leaving but he knew the truth. Unexpectedly, the door to Austin's room squeaked as it slowly rattled open; a sound he'd never forget.

"Get over here, boy!" Barked his stepfather.

However Austin couldn't move. It felt as though his tires were full of lead. His stepfather rolled forward and Austin could feel his little body start to tremble as the hulking F-350 filled his view, his breath reeking of liquor.

"What're you laughin' 'bout?!" The F-350 drunkenly inquired.

"I'm not laughing!" Austin roared, enraged, but when the words actually escaped his throat they were much more tiny, timid, and tearful.

"Boy, you'd better shut that noise up before I give you something to cry about!"

Austin stared back at him in fear. His pain had overflowed from quiet sobbing to full-on crying and the child was powerless to stop it, no matter how much his stepfather threatened.

His stepfather approached him and lifted a giant deeply treaded tire high above the little Trailblazer's head, "I warned you…"

The thick heavy tire came crashing down upon him thus jarring Austin out of his restless slumber. Startled and breathing heavily, he shakily pressed a tire to the switch on the wall and the lights came on. He was dazed and had to look around a bit to get his bearings. In the corner of his garage at the Propwash Junction fire station was his trailer, still packed with his stuff since he'd only just gotten in last night. The rest of his room was bare; no mother, no stepfather, he was safe. He did have a mirror though, which he checked to make sure he was okay. As he studied his reflection a fully grown young adult Chevrolet Trailblazer with light brown eyes and a well-polished silver paintjob looked back at him. Plus, his eyes weren't teary and his face didn't appear to be kicked in. His body was broiling though almost as if he'd run for thousands of miles. He took a deep breath to try and calm his racing engine.

Looking out his garage door's windows, he realized it was still dark outside. It must've only been 3 or 4 in the morning but as he looked in the mirror at his quivering tires and wide eyes he knew sleep would not return to him. He stretched and then sighed, "Alright then, time to get to work."

With Dusty's growing reputation, sleepy, unknown, little Propwash Junction was starting to expand with stores, motels and new hangars being built all the time. Propwash Junction's fire station recently had many upgrades but there was still a lot to do to keep the meticulous Inspector Ryker at bay. In fact, it was the Transport Management Safety Team who'd assigned Austin to help the aging Mayday and busy Dusty maintain the ancient firehouse.

The station had 3 garage bays and a small hangar, however, having been the sole firefighter for years Mayday had claimed the more spacious hangar long ago and 2 of the garages had broken doors that wouldn't open. Fortunately, Dusty had his own hangar which left the remaining fire station garage bay for Austin. The young Trailblazer pressed a tire to the sensor switch for bay 2 which rattled up halfway before the motor whined with strain and then the door came back down to rest. Dust flew off the door and there was much squealing and squeaking as the corroded wheels struggled up and down their rusty tracks. Austin attached his magnetic claw tool to his right rim and with it took a can of WD-40 from his toolbox. After applying the lubricant to the oxidizing parts of the door he hit the sensor again. The door repeated its behavior.

"Hmm, looks like I'm gonna have to replace the whole track assembly," he sighed before switching on his onboard recorder and repeating his task. "Replace door track assembly for garage bay 2."

Then he inspected the first bay's door. When he pressed the sensor switch nothing at all happened, the motor didn't even respond. He checked the light switch inside the bay. Nothing.

"No power to garage bay 1. Check fuse box and wiring," he noted all the while hoping it was just a blown fuse and that he wouldn't have to check all the wires.

Outside, he could see that the sun was starting to peek over the horizon now. Glancing at the clock on the wall he gasped, "Shit, it's almost 7:00. I'll have to come back to this later." He pulled into the firehouse's kitchen and subsequently into a large spider web!

"Aww man! Blech!" He sputtered, spitting the sticky strands away from his mouth and grille. The old mess hall certainly lived up to its name. A coat of dust covered everything. Cobwebs decorated the insides of every pot and pan. The deserted kitchen would have to be cleaned before breakfast could even be contemplated. It took him just over an hour but when he was finally done the dishes and cabinets gleamed spotless and the stove and countertops all glistened. Now he could start cooking. When he opened the fridge and discovered its shelves and drawers were bare, save for a little unfortunate dead beetle, he cursed his luck, "You've got to be kidding me!"

A short while later, Austin was cruising the isles of Propwash's new local market gathering an array of ingredients. A young female Blazer was in the store with her friends laughing and generally enjoying the lazy Sunday morning. However, when Austin passed the group of women and her silvery-grey eyes fell upon his brown ones, she was immediately smitten, even as Austin's gaze nervously darted away from her.

"Sarah? Sarah, are you even listening? What's wrong with you?" One of her friends, a Honda Accord, inquired thereby pulling her from her daydream.

"That guy… ," Sarah replied in a daze.

"What guy?"

"That guy right there. The one who just pulled into the checkout isle."

The Accord moved to get a better look, "The Trailblazer?"

"Yes! He's gorgeous… ," Answered Sarah.

"He is pretty cute! I don't think I've ever seen him before."

Another friend, a Toyota Tacoma, joined in, "That's impossible in a little town like this."

The Blazer responded, "Maybe he's new."

"Maybe he's just visiting so you should go get his number before you never see him again," mocked the Accord.

Sarah gasped, "No, no, no. I can't, Jess. He's so handsome he's probably married … with a trailer-load of kids."

"Yeah, I bet his wife can't keep her tires off him," Jess added. "… I know I wouldn't be able to."

The girls all laughed.

"There's only one way to find out," said the Tacoma as she pushed the Blazer in the direction of Austin. Sarah immediately put on her brakes, "No! Kali, stop! Not this time. If I see him again, then surely it was meant to be and then I'll ask him."

Her friends looked at each other and then scoffed doubtfully. Meanwhile, Austin had just paid for his groceries and was headed back to the fire station when an elderly Ford Fusion pulled into his path.

"My, you're a handsome young SUV. What's your name, sonny?" The old lady inquired, moving closer and closer to study him.

"Umm … it's Austin, ma'am," he hesitated, taking a step back.

"And so polite too. Are you the new firefighter who just moved into the firehouse?"

"Well, I'm not really a firefighter, ma'am…"

"That's good. Mayday could use the help. Dusty does a good job but he's just so busy all the time. Plus, I don't believe either of them are really capable of fixing up that old place," she said, not really paying attention to Austin's response. "Look at me; yammerin' away when you probably have tons of things to do. Thank you for chatting with me, sonny. Stop by my garage for a visit sometime and I'll bake you some gask-its."

"Y-yes, ma'am," Austin replied with a forced smile.

He then exhaled a deep sigh of relief after he was able to get away from the senior. Safely back at the station Austin hoped he could finally begin preparing breakfast. He metaphorically kept his wheels crossed as he flipped the switch on the old stove, fully aware that it was highly unlikely the ancient thing would even activate. When the light flicked on and the surface slowly began to heat up, Austin had to restrain himself from yelling in joy. On the outside, Austin appeared to be quite content as he melted the grease in a pan and hummed the bars of a song. However, inside he was still troubled by his nightmare and while he cooked, he seemed a bit unsettled as the lyrics left his lips,

"As I cruise this land of broken dreams,
I have visions of many things.
But happiness is just an illusion,
Filled with sadness and confusion.
What becomes of the broken hearted,
Who had love that's now departed?
I know I've got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Maybe…"

Old fire engine Mayday had been awake for a long time listening to the sounds of the morning but it was the smells wafting from the kitchen that actually pulled him from his room. No one had actually used the kitchen in … well, forever. When he pulled into the mess hall he was more than a bit surprised by the change but he chose not to comment on it, "What are you doing?"

Austin was startled by the old fire engine's interruption, "Oh! Um … m-making breakfast?"

Mayday kept a straight expression, "You're cooking? I thought you were sent here to repair and maintain the firehouse…"

"Well … yeah, but where I come from, it's the job of all non-firefighters to take care of the actual firefighters. And I know firefighters have to eat a lot to keep their energy up and you didn't have any food in here so I bought some and now I'm … making breakfast… ," the Trailblazer anxiously explained.

Mayday studied the now flawless kitchen and the repast being prepared before he spoke again, "When my tank gets low I usually just go to Honkers for a few gallons."

"Trust me, you'll enjoy actually tasting your food," replied Austin bitterly as he brought Mayday his meal, his nervousness replaced by annoyance at the fire truck's outwardly ungrateful tone. "Wasn't there another one?"

"Hmm?" Mayday asked.

"Another firefighter? I was told there were two of you."

"Oh, Dusty? Yeah, he's got his own place behind the airport. I believe he just fills up at the Fill 'n' Fly every morning."

Austin sighed exasperatedly before shutting down the stove and returning to the task of the garage doors. As he disassembled the door to bay 2 he muttered to himself about how it was a waste of time to cook for the two rescue vehicles since they didn't seem to appreciate it.

"Well, that's it then I guess I won't bother cooking for those two ever again," he grumbled as he drilled the shiny new track assembly to the walls of bay 2. With the door disconnected from the motor he had to manually push it up and down to test it. He was holding up the heavy door with his roof when a sudden loud belch from behind him started him. As he attempted to back up to turn and investigate he forgot about the door and it slammed down onto his hood.

"Ow! Dammit!" Cursed Austin, quickly backing up from under the door. When Austin turned to the source of the disturbance he discovered it was Mayday.

"Hey, you alright there, young'un?" Mayday struggle to stifle his chuckling.

"I'm fine."

"What's your name again, kid? I forget…"

"Austin…"

"Right, right…," Mayday spoke slowly when he was deliberating. Then he smiled and poked fun at the younger vehicle. "Thank you for breakfast, Austin. It was good. I would use less salt next time … but that's just because I'm old."

The Trailblazer didn't look at him. He simply nodded.

So the firefighter continued, "Name's Mayday. There … now we've been properly introduced. Dusty'll be by later if you wanted to meet him or get his autograph or whatever."

The Chevy had resumed work on the door and was all but ignoring his elder.

Tired of Austin's silent treatment Mayday left and went about his business, "Okay … I guess I'll take care of the dishes."

Austin sharply responded, "No! It's my mess. I'll clean it up."

Dropping his tools, he raced back to the kitchen and began cleaning. Mayday was stunned by his sudden zeal, but he left him alone and drove off to begin his day.

Later that day, after he'd reconnected the door to the motor, Austin tested it and it operated perfectly. Next, he began work on bay 1, hitting the switch to check the unresponsive door once again. Then Austin checked the fuse box, the likes of which had all been recently replaced.

"Damn," he sighed as his grabbed the voltmeter from his toolbox.

It was well beyond noon when the crop duster turned firefighter finally showed up. Austin had been checking various places in the wiring of bay 1 for voltage drops and defects all morning but had yet to find the source of the problem.

"Hey! You the new guy?" Smiled Dusty as he rolled up.

Austin didn't bother to look up from his task, "Yeah…"

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dusty … Dusty Crophopper."

"Austin…"

Silence ensued.

"So … uh, what are you doing?" Dusty asked after a few moments.

Austin was brief with him, "Fixing the door…"

Another awkward silence.

Dusty cleared his throat and said, "Oh, I heard you made breakfast for Mayday and I this morning. Apparently it was good. I'm sorry I didn't get to try it."

"Waste of time…," Austin grumbled at the memory.

"Well, … no. I actually appreciate the gesture and I'm sure Mayday does too."

"There's no need to get sentimental about it. I was just doing my job, kind of like I'm trying to do now…"

"Huh? Oh! I see … you probably need to concentrate… so I'll just go now. Um, it was nice talking to you," the crop duster fibbed as he hurriedly left the company of the unfriendly Trailblazer.

Dusty entered the firehouse and beheld the pristine kitchen. He didn't even know the station had a mess hall.

"Mayday!" He called. When no answer came he returned outside to Austin. "Do you know where Mr. Mayday is?"

Once again, the Chevy didn't bother to stop and offer much aid, "No…"

Dusty sighed at Austin's short unhelpful response before working it out himself, "Well, it's nearly 1 so he's most likely at the nursery helping Mrs. McLaren water her plants and rotate them out of the sun. Which reminds me; I promised Leadbottom I'd help train his new employee. Later, Austin!"

After Dusty's departure, the two firefighters were gone all day which gave Austin plenty of peace to work on his door problem. He had practically replaced every component of the door assembly to no avail. When he pressed the switch again and the door still refused to move, he was confounded, "What the hell is wrong with this door?! Well, the only thing it could possibly be is the motor, but I can't afford to replace that."

Grabbing his voltmeter again, he began to test the wiring of the problematic motor itself.

For the old fire engine and the crop duster, it had been a long day of completing chores and fulfilling obligations for the townspeople and Dusty was the first to return to the fire station as the sun began to set. He was a bit surprised to see Austin still hard at work on the door.

Although they had gotten off to a bad start this morning, Dusty was willing to try again, "Hey Austin, it's been a long day. You should join Chug, Dottie, Sparky, and I at Honkers tonight so we can all unwind."

Even though hours had passed, nothing had changed and the Trailblazer was just as succinct with Dusty as before, "No thanks…"

However, the crop duster was persistent, "Come on, you've been here a whole day and I know you haven't talked to anyone. Everyone can't wait to meet you. That door has been busted for years, it can wait one more night."

"No thanks. I'm too close to solving this to quit on it now…"

It was of no use. Austin was stubborn, perhaps even more so than Dusty. "Oh … okay then. Good luck."

Shortly after Dusty departed, Mayday returned carrying a tote in his teeth.

He approached the younger vehicle, drop the bag, and inquired, "Austin, you still working on that door? You've been at it all day."

"Almost done," Austin replied.

"Mrs. Aston was pretty upset that you didn't come visit her like you said you would. She told me to give you this," Mayday pushed the cloth bag forward. "It's her homemade Gask-its. She says you haven't eaten all day."

"How would she know that?"

"Well, my guess would be … she was watching you all day," Mayday shrugged.

"Why?"

"Search me. She did mention something about 'sexy firefighters working in the sun' and … I dunno. She's a bit of a nut but she's a real nice lady. Anyway, why didn't you go to Honkers with Dusty?"

Austin noticed a broken weld in the wires and grabbed his soldering iron, "I'm not really the partying and drinking type."

"Well, neither is Dusty. I think he just goes to spend time with his friends," said Mayday.

"I'm not really the 'friends' type either."

"I can see that."

"Dammit!" Cursed the SUV suddenly as the tool slipped from the grabber and burned his tire.

Mayday gave a brief look of concern, "What about rest? Are you the resting type?"

"When is lights out?"

"Wha?"

"Mandatory lights out? What time do we all have to be in bed?"

Mayday only laughed, "Them big city fire stations run a pretty tight ship, huh? Here, we go to bed when we're tired."

"Oh, in that case, I'll call it a day when I'm finished with this," the Trailblazer returned to his chore.

"It's been a day regardless of what you choose to call it…, " Mayday grinned but Austin ignored him. "How's your tire?"

"It's fine."

The fire truck sighed before heading to his hangar and turning in. Around midnight, Mayday randomly awoke and, curious to see if Austin was still working, he looked out the windows of his room and saw the Trailblazer still outside. He left his hangar and approached Austin, "Hey, kid, you're gonna need to get your rest for tomor-."

When he drove around to Austin's face he was surprised to see that the boy was fast asleep. He even still had his grabber tool attached to his wheel! Mayday curiously pressed the switch for bay 1 and the door obediently opened.

"Good work, kid," he smiled to himself before closing the door again and returning to his chamber to go back to sleep.

Song: What Becomes of the Broken Hearted by The Temptations