Hello, everybody! I sort of wrote this story, in which The King visits Lightning while he is in the hospital after he has just had the wreck and just woken up from surgery, to pay him back for helping him cross rhe finish line in the first movie, as sort of a companion piece to some of my other stories, the ones that have mentioned Lightning's time in the hospital and what I thought took place when he was there, just to show how all of that could've happened. It also ties into one of my other Cars Fics, Ghosts, a little bit, but you don't have to read that one in order to understand this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Feeling as if he had just woken from a long sleep, Lightning McQueen struggled to flutter his eyes open, only to close them again when he was almost blinded by bright, warm rays of sunlight beaming through the window and hitting his windshield, waking up to a world full of pain, fear and hurt. He heard voices, but they sounded distant, as if they were far away. He thought he recognized one of them, but he couldn't be for sure. His mind was dazed, his thoughts scrambled. He couldn't remember what had happened the day before.

"He's awake!"

"Go get Mrs. McQueen right away!"

He heard the hectic sound of what could've only been vehicles scrambling out of the room to make room for more vehicles when he heard the voice he thought he had recognized.

"Stickers, you're awake!"

Lightning forced his eyes open the rest of the way at the familiar sound of the voice, struggling to find its owner. "S-S-Sally?" he asked, finally making out the sleek, curvy shape of Sally Carrera, once his vision had came back into focus. "I-I-s that you?" He didn't recognize the sound of his own voice, which was harsh and raspy, not his voice at all.

Sally smiled through the tears running down her windshield and unto her hood. "Yes, Stickers, it's me," she said, sobbing, and Lightning heard her voice crack. "I'm so glad you're all right." She was overcome by uncontrollable sniffing. "I was so scared."

One of the doctor cars drove up to Sally. "I don't mean to frighten you, Mrs. Carrera, but he's not out of the woods, yet," he said, making Lightning want to ram himself into the car's side, knowing the doctor had scared her, even if he hadn't meant to, but he couldn't move. "He's still hurting pretty bad, and we might have to put him back under again if the pain gets to be too much for him."

Sally began to wail. "C-Can't I at least talk to him for a few minutes?" she asked, her pleading soft, desperate, and heartbreaking. "I missed him..."

The car doctor gave Sally a sympathetic look, and Lightning thought it was good to know he wasn't a complete jerk. "You can go talk to him for a few minutes, then I'm afraid you must leave and let him rest, or he is never going to recover."

With this ominous warning, the doctor left, giving Sally a few, much-needed, precious moments alone with Lightning.

"Hello, Stickers, honey," Sally said, kissing Lightning's grill. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm pretty scared, to tell you the truth, Sally," Lightning said, huffing and puffing against the pain, his fenders blowing in and out with each shallow, laborious breath he took."The pain's bad…I mean real bad…"

Filled with terror, Sally's eyes widened in horror.

"I know, I'll have the doctors get you some medicine in a few minutes," she said, fighting to cling onto him as long as she could. "I just wanted to talk to you for a bit, hear your voice again."

"I'm sorry, Sally, but I don't think I can wait that long…" Lightning said, choking on a sob, and grimaced. "I feel like…I'm dying here…" All of a sudden, his body gave a slight jerk, and he let out an agonized scream.

"Just wait right here, and I'll get you some help," Sally said, pushing, with frantic urgency, the nurse call button with one of her tires.

Within seconds helped arrived.

Sally was parked outside in the waiting room, anticipating any word on Lightning's condition. She had sped out of the room as fast as she could as soon as the doctor's had arrived, unable to stand to see Lightning the way he had been, knowing the doctors wouldn't have let her stay, anyway. She had been waiting for what felt like hours already, and she hadn't heard anything, yet. She was starting to get more than a little worried.

"Why, hello there, Miss. Sally."

Sally raised her eyes from her hood, surprised to see Strip 'The King' Weathers rolling toward her.

It had been awhile since she had the seen 'The King'. The last time she had seen him, he had been at his nephew's last race, in which he had returned to serve as his pit crew chief for one final time before he retired, but she hadn't even gotten a chance to talk to him then. She and Lightning had been good friends with him and his wife for some time, but it had been a long time since they had hung out together, and she missed both of them.

At the sight of him, she burst into tears, his presence only reminding her of Lightning.

"Hey, now, what's wrong?" Strip asked, driving up toward her, the unique, azure, bullet-shaped form of the Plymouth Superbird filling the hallway. "The old man's all right, ain't he?" His heavy, southern accent was a warm and welcoming sound, providing a sharp, but relieving contrast to the plain, modern interior design of the hospital.

Sally shook her hood, wishing she had better news for Strip. "I don't know," she said, feeling helpless. "He just woke up awhile ago, but the doctors had to put him back to sleep because he was in so much pain."

Strip flinched. "I hate to here that, Sally," he said, truly sounding as if he meant it, too. "I came here as soon as could and I was hoping to get a chance to talk to him."

"Well, if he ever wakes up, you can come in with me to see him, if they will allow it," Sally said, giving him a sad, tired smile. "I'm sure he would love to see you."

"That's good to hear," Strip said, nodding his hood.

For the next several hours, the two of them kept each other's company, dreading the worst.

Night had fallen before they heard any news.

Close to succumbing to the tantalizing temptation of sleep, Sally had been fighting to stay awake, but Strip had already fallen asleep, leaning heavily against her side. He was completely exhausted.

The door to Lightning's room finally opened at last, and one of the car doctor's came out, his grill covered in what could've only been Lightning's oil.

In tears, Sally raced up to him, hysterical. "Is he okay?" she asked, screaming the words, almost screeching them. "Please tell me he's going to be okay!"

The doctor gave her a shaky smile. "He's all right, Mrs. Carrera, as of right now," he said, looking haggard and worn out. "He just had a minor setback, is all. The surgery was a success, but he is sleeping right now, and he needs the rest. I would suggest you give him a few more hours to recuperate, before you go in to see him." He looked over at Strip, noticing him for the first time. "I'm a big fan of yours, by the way. I cried like a baby car when you wrecked."

Having been woken up by the doctor's sudden appearance, Strip smiled back at him, only half-awake now. "And I'm a big fan of yours," he said, as modest as ever. "I appreciate everything you're doing to help Lightning and Sally." He really did look grateful.

The doctor began to stammer. "T-Thank you," he said, nervous and bewildered at the same time, as if he couldn't believe he was standing in the midst of a racing legend. "Can I have your autograph?"

Strip took it all in good stride. "Certainly," he said, looking as he was enjoying the whole spectacle more than anything.

Sally watched the exchange in disbelief, unable to believe she was witnessing such a casual conversation when it felt as if her whole world was falling apart, her gaze continuing to flicker from Strip back to the doctor again.

She wished she had Strip's tolerance.

In the early hours of the morning, a different doctor came out of Lightning's room, with much better news this time. "He's awake now," he said, visibly shaken. "You can go in and see him if you want, but only one of you at the time."

Sally started to drive into the room, but stopped, turning back around to face Strip. "I'm sorry," she said, hesitating, even though she wanted nothing more than to go into Lightning's room and see him right then.

Strip urged her to go on, waving one of his tires at her. "That's all right, Sally," he said, yawning. "You go on first." He looked as if he was about to fall over. "I'll just wait out here."

"But you're tired, and I can stay here as long as I want," Sally said, not feeling right about leaving Strip by himself. "I'm sure you got to hurry and get back home."

"No, go on," Strip said, struggling to keep his eyes open. "I'll be all right here."

"You sure?" Sally asked, one final time.

"Positive," Strip said, his eyes flickering shut. "I'll just wait out here for you."

Sally sighed. "If you say so," she said, and went into Lightning's room, unable to wait any longer.

"Oh, poor Stickers," Sally said, her lips trembling.

Lightning was parked in the middle of the room where she had left him, still hooked up to a bunch of machines, wires and tubes crisscrossing all over him, but the sight was probably going to haunt her for the rest of her life. He had an IV line disappearing under his hood and going into his engine, an oxygen tube stretching across his grill, trailing over his mouth, and when she looked over to the right side of him, she saw the oxygen tank he was hooked up to, providing the air he needed to survive and could no longer give to his own failing and ruined body.

Despite the disoriented state he had to have been in, he must've heard her come in, for he seemed to perk up a little bit at the sound of her voice. "S-Sally?" he asked, and painfully turned his hood around looking for her. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Stickers," Sally said, slowly driving up to him. "It's me."

Sally was horrified when Lightning burst into tears. "Oh, Sally," he said, moaning. "I missed you…"

"Oh, I missed you, too, Stickers," Sally said, and pressed herself against his side, kissing him on the fender. "I thought I'd lost you."

Lightning gave a weak chuckle. "I thought I was lost," he said, kissing her back. "I was so scared…still am, a little."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Stickers," Sally said, feeling his body shift back and forth against hers, as if he was hurting more on one side than the other and was doing his best to avoid putting too much weight on the side that was causing him the most pain. "I was pretty scared, too." She wasn't afraid to admit it, either. "While you were out of it, out on the track, I tried and tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't answer me." She felt her tears flowing anew. "You scared me to death out there."

Lightning groaned. "I'm sorry, Sally," he said, his voice very lonesome. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's all right, Stickers, I'm just glad you're okay," Sally said, and thought it would be best to try and hurry to lift his spirits up before they got any lower. "You know, if you feel up to it, you have a visitor outside wanting to see you."

"Oh?" Lightning looked over at her in surprise. "Who?"

"The King, Stickers," Sally said, forcing herself to smile at him."The King."

Lightning actually managed a smile of his own, but it was a very faint smile, much like her own had been. "The King?" he asked, his expression hopeful. "Sure, I would be glad to see him!" He suddenly looked very lonely. "I haven't seen him in forever!"

Sally chuckled. "I thought you might," she said, and pulled away from him with great reluctance, heading back toward the door. "Wait right here, and I'll tell him."

"Okay, Sally," Lightning said, his voice beginning to slur. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too, Stickers, but don't worry, I won't be far," Sally said, and backed up against the door, pressing it open with her fender. "I'll be back soon."

Just before the door shut back behind her, she grimaced, hearing Lightning's distant sobbing in the background.

Having been asleep, Strip snapped awake when Sally rolled back out into the waiting room. "So, how is the old man?" he asked, cruising up to her.

"He's…he's awake and talking, but he's still in a great deal of pain, and I think he's very scared, and lonely," Sally said, wanting to be upfront and honest with him. "He wants to see you."

"Poor guy…" Strip said, trailing off into brief moment of silence before he spoke again. "I've been there…I know how it is."

"Yeah, I know," Sally said, knowing all too well what Strip was talking about. "He could really use your company right now."

"Thanks, Sally," Strip said, and entered Lightning's room.

Strip rolled into the hospital room, finding himself staring at an rapidly aging Lightning McQueen, the sight of the old man reminding him of himself when he had just been in the same position several years ago, after he had been in his own wreck, but McQueen had been there to push him to the finish line, giving up his seemingly one and only chance of winning the Piston Cup. Strip had felt grateful and indebted for his aid ever since, and thought he would use this visit as an opportunity to pay him back for his selflessness and generosity, even though he knew no matter what he did would ever be enough to repay him for what he had done and lost doing it.

He scrolled his gaze over McQueen, and studied the damage he had taken, wondering if he had looked as bad as the old man did now when he had been in the same condition. McQueen was in bad shape, there was no doubt about that, and he had a rough road toward anything resembling recovery ahead of him, that was true, but if he knew Lightning McQueen, the old man wouldn't give up easily. Things didn't look like it now, but he would make it, Strip was positive of that. McQueen was tough; he had to keep telling himself that.

Strip was still quite taken aback by the sight of him. "Hey, old man, you awake?" he asked, once he had gotten over his first initial shock of seeing McQueen. He had started to call him 'kid', like everybody else had, all those seemingly long years ago, and had to stop himself. McQueen wasn't a 'kid', anymore; he was an old man now, and looked every inch of it.

"Funny, I used to be the one calling you that," McQueen said, squinting his eyes to see him, fighting back the pain.

Strip snorted, but smiled. "Good to see you still got your sense of humor," he said, his eyes traveling along all of the tubes and wires snaking across McQueen. "You look good, considering." He stared back down at him, taking in the fresh primer the doctors must've had just put on him because he could still smell the paint. "I thought you were going to look a whole lot worse, to tell you the truth."

"I probably did, before they put the primer on me," McQueen said, and chuckled, but the chuckle soon turned into a wheeze. "If you had come in here earlier you might've been able to see all the parts I have on the inside."

"Jeez, old man, don't paint that picture in my head," Strip said, feeling a little faint. "I'm glad I didn't get to see that much of ya'."

The smile McQueen gave him was a feeble and sickly one.

Strip shuddered. "I tell you, old man, it's going to be tough," he said, again feeling as if he was looking in the mirror, seeing an image of himself awhile back. "What you're going to be going through, it's ain't gonna' be easy, and I'm talkin' from experience."

"I know," McQueen said, gasping for breath. "When it…when it was happening, all I can think of was you and Doc…and what you two went through…"

"Yeah, I 'bout figured," Strip said, and he truly had. "That's why I came. I just thought you could use somebody you could relate to, you know? Give you advice and that sort of thing."

"Yeah…" McQueen said, his eyes glassy and dazed, his grill going slack.

Strip, thinking it was time to leave McQueen in peace, decided to wrap things up. It was becoming quite obvious the old man was about to go out of it like a light. "Just hang in there, old man, all right?" he asked, backing away from McQueen. "I would hate to see anything bad happen to you, leaving that Sally of yours all alone, with no one else to turn to. She loves you, you know."

"I know, and I'm trying as hard as I can to keep it all together for her, believe me, am I ever trying, but it's hard," McQueen said, panting every breath. "It was good seeing you again, King, old friend."

"It was good seeing you again, old man," Strip said, just wishing McQueen had been in better shape. "We'll talk later, all right?"

"Right," McQueen said, still hacking and wheezing.

Strip left after that. Deep down, he was all too glad to get out of there. McQueen had reminded him too much of himself not too long ago for comfort.

When Strip came back out of Lightning's room, Sally rushed up to him, thinking he looked like he had seen a ghost. "Is he all right?" she asked, finding it impossible to keep the fear out of her voice. "What about you?"

Strip gulped. "He's as well as can be expected, I guess, under the circumstances," he said, trying to hide his own fear. "I'm sorry, Sally, but I just couldn't stand to see him like that a minute longer. He...he made me think of myself too much when I was there."

"Yeah, I understand," Sally said, giving him a quick, light kiss on the fender. "I can see how he would have that effect on you."

"Well, I got to go, Sally," Strip said, and turned to start back down the hall, giving Sally one last look before he left. "I gotta get back home to the Misuss."

"All right, it was nice seeing you again," Sally said, waving her tire at him in farewell. "Take care, and keep in touch."

Once Strip had disappeared down the hall, Sally went back into Lightning's room, parking herself by his side. He had fallen back asleep. She could hear his uneven snores, and stood still for a moment to listen to them, oddly comforted by the sound. She stayed vigil over him for the rest of the day, and for long hours into the night, never once leaving his side.

The End