Author's Note: And we pick up from here...
Disclaimer: For the last time (literally) I don't own Cars.
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Fifteen minutes later, Lightning appeared rolling down the hallway. His eyes were red from crying, but that did not necessarily mean anything. Rayne straightened up from leaning against Eric and rolled forward.
"What's going on?" Rayne asked once her father arrived. "Is Doc okay?"
Lightning glanced at Sally and then back to Rayne and Eric. "Doc-" he cleared his throat. "D-Doc had a grade four engine attack. H-he died twenty minutes ago."
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The world stopped. The hands on the clock ceased all movement and nobody was functioning. A world without Doc was unfathomable. There would be no world without him.
Rayne was only halfway aware of her mother throwing herself onto her father, sobbing hysterically. She halfway heard Eric say "No!" but she almost felt as though it was a figment of her imagination.
Suddenly, Rayne snapped out of her fantasy. Back in the real world, Doc was gone. He suffered a grade four heart attack, just as her father had two years before she was born, but unlike Lightning, Doc lost the fight. It could not be true.
"No," Rayne said, an overwhelming, unknown feeling encasing her. Tears started pouring down her hood. "No, no, no, no! Doc isn't dead," she said to her father, her eyes narrowed. "There's no way he's dead. He was fine yesterday!"
Lightning shook his head, obviously trying to overcome the tears that were fighting to spill down his hood. "I'm sorry, Rayne," he said, his voice hoarse and cracking slightly. "He was diagnosed with an engine condition last spring. The doctors said that was the reason for his mood swings. Apparently the fuel they had him on can cause them."
"They why would he race you?" Rayne asked, desperately scavenging for a loop hole in which to prove that Doc was really alive and Lightning was lying.
"I don't know," Lightning said, tears beginning to stream down his hood again. "I guess he thought it would be okay."
"No," Rayne repeated, the tears becoming heavier. She started to sob desperately, realizing that there was no way to prove that Lightning wrong; that yes, Doc was truly dead.
Sobs wracked from deep within her soul from the grief of losing one of her closest companions. She sobbed and sobbed, leaning into Eric, who used his tire to stroke her comfortingly. Rayne grasped to him as if he was saving her from a deep existential pit which would consume her for the rest of her existence.
Rayne was only semi-aware of Eric bracing her when Lightning called her.
Blinded by her tears, she rolled up to her father, really guided by his red outline.
"Yes?" Rayne asked nasally.
"He wanted me to tell you a couple things," Lightning said, sniffing and trying to push the tears away.
"Dad, I really don't know if I can hear this right now," Rayne sobbed.
"You need to hear this," Lightning said seriously. His electric blue eyes stared into the ones that mirrored his own.
"Okay," Rayne said, summoning the strength she needed to hear what Lightning had to say. She took a deep breath, calming herself enough to listen.
"First, h-he wanted to tell you what a great racecar you are," Lightning said, hardly able to get the words out before letting out a fresh sob.
"Dad, I d-don't think I can hear this right now," Rayne sobbed, desperately gasping for breath.
"And he wanted to tell you that if you even c-consider scratching from the r-race Sunday, he'll haunt you forever."
Rayne had forgotten all about the race two days away. It seemed so meaningless at the given moment.
"Who will be my c-crew chief?" Rayne asked, not wanting to think about racing without Doc as her commander.
"That's where my personal threats come in," Lightning said. "I'm to be your crew chief, and if I don't, Doc said he would hunt me down and drag me with him."
Though Rayne did not smile, she let out a quick laugh. "That sounds like him."
"He was serious too," Lightning added. "I suggest you follow his directions."
"I know better than to disobey him," Rayne said, letting out a small sob. "Believe me, I know."
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The next morning, Lightning woke up with a strange empty feeling. He immediately knew where the feeling was coming from. Tears were quick to come to his eyes as he recollected on the previous day's events. The tears spilled over his eyes, down his hood, and onto the floor of his trailer. He glanced over to his rows of trophies and saw the picture of he and Doc after Lightning's first win under Doc's leadership. Doc looked elated; he was grinning from ear to ear, and Lightning looked exhausted, but happy nonetheless. Doc's liveliness in the photo haunted Lightning; how could someone look to alive, even on photo paper, and then be dead?
Lightning forced himself to look away from the photograph.
"Hey," Sally said from in front of Lightning.
"Hey," Lightning replied.
"You don't look like you slept at all last night," Sally said. Her eyes were watering.
"I got about forty-five minutes of sleep," Lightning said hoarsely. He held back a sob. Doc had been a constant figure for him for the past twenty years. They had traveled all over the country, conquering everyone who opposed them. Doc saved his life, healed him when he was broken. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Sally drove up to Lightning and kissed him. "He wouldn't want you to grieve."
"I know," Lightning said. "He'd probably make fun of me for it come to think of it, but I can't help it. He was all but my father."
"I know," Sally said, wiping a tear from Lightning's hood. "It's normal."
Thirty minutes later, Lightning composed himself and left the trailer. He found himself face-to-face with the Piston Cup president, Bill Thorpe.
"Mr. Thorpe!" Lightning said with surprise. In his twenty years on the track, he had only met the car twice.
"How are you feeling?" Thorpe asked.
"Fine," Lightning shrugged. He did not want to break down in front of the most important car on the Piston Cup circuit, especially because it was unlikely the car knew Doc was dead. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, you were spotted racing after an ambulance yesterday, but the press, and everybody else for that matter, have no clue why, and the press requested you made a release about it. Would you be willing?"
Lightning hesitated. I knew he would need to announce Doc's death to the racing world, but announcing it would make it so final.
"I can do that," Lightning decided, just wanting to get it over with.
"They're waiting for you at the podium in victory lane when you're ready," Thorpe said. "Thank you, Lightning."
"No problem, Mr. Thorpe," Lightning said. He turned around to look at Sally, who was parked halfway down the ramp.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" she asked.
"As ready as I'm even going to be," Lightning said. "I want to be the one to tell everyone versus the wrong person."
"I understand," Sally replied.
"I'm going ahead over there," Lightning said. "You don't have to come if you don't want to."
He sighed and drove towards the ever-so-familiar victory lane. It was there where he had accepted his numerous Piston Cups with Doc right alongside him. The happy memories morphed into sad ones in a split second.
Lightning drove up onto the podium and looked down upon the many reporters with their voice recorders, cameras, and notepads. He took a deep breath and told the world the dire news.
"Yesterday morning, my former crew chief, Doc Hudson, and I went for a workout. Part of the way through, Doc suffered a grade four engine attack and he died yesterday afternoon."
The crowed started murmuring and questions started flying at Lightning.
"Mr. McQueen, how will this affect Rayne racing tomorrow?" a reporter asked.
"It won't," Lightning said. He felt drained and emotionless by talking about Doc's death to people who did not truly know or care about Doc. "One of the last things he said to me was 'Your daughter is going to race on Sunday whether I'm there or not.'"
The crowed murmured again, writing down Lightning's words.
"Who will be Rayne's crew chief?" another reporter asked.
"I am," Lightning said. "Doc has been asking me to co-crew chief for a while now, so it's time for me to step up and do it."
The press release lasted thirty more minutes. After several more questions, Lightning backed down the ramp and saw Sally parked ten feet away.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey," Lightning replied. He still felt drained and emotionless, as if he could not give off any emotion, even including sorrow at the moment. He was tired but could not sleep; he was grieving but couldn't cry. He hated the twisted world he was trapped in.
"I know that was hard to do," Sally said. "I'm proud of you."
"It had to be done," Lightning replied monotonously. "People would have been asking questions anyway."
"I know," Sally said. "But it was hard for you."
Lightning shrugged. He did not feel like talking to anyone at the moment. He wanted to be alone to think. Lightning was tired of being lost in the new unfamiliar territory he existed in, and he needed to find his way through it on his own.
"I'm going on a drive," Lightning said, heading away from Sally towards the exit of the speedway.
"Do you want me to come?" Sally asked.
"I think I want to be alone for a while," Lightning said dully. "Thanks for the offer though. I appreciate your support, Sal."
With that, Lightning drove away from his wife and out of the International Speedway of the South. He needed time to himself; one last time alone to mourn before he had to man-up. He knew just the place to go.
Lightning drove an hour out of the city to the countryside. A large hill looked up on rolling fields where tractors grazed lazily. Lightning parked under a large oak tree on top of the hill. He glared angrily at the brilliant blue sky with fluffy white clouds dancing merrily across it. He felt as though the weather was contradictory to every emotion he was feeling at the time. If he had his choice, it would be tempestuous with charcoal gray clouds. Bolts of lightning and claps of thunder would go off every few moments and the raindrops would mingle with his tears.
But no. Of course not. This worsened Lightning's mood, if that was possible. Tears ran down his face as he thought of how easily the attack could have been prevented. If he had not been stubborn and made Doc race, he would still be alive and together, they could be figuring out how to calm Rayne down for her race the next day. Instead of crying in her trailer, Rayne would be pacing back and forth, driving everyone insane. Instead of making funeral arrangements, Sally would be spending time with her family and enjoying a break from all the work she had to do back at home.
It did not seem fair to anyone, especially not to Doc. Although he was older in years than the cars that usually surrounded him, he was just as young at heart. He seemed so full of life. It was not fair.
Lightning sighed and leaned against the tree. He was exhausted. Crying alone made him tired, but along with getting virtually no sleep and getting up fairly early, he was about to die.
Only a couple minutes after leaning against the tree, Lightning drifted into unconsciousness.
Five hours later, Lightning work up, slightly disoriented. He quickly regained his surroundings and drove forward, stretching his sore wheel axle.
Lightning welcomed the pain that was coming from the axle. It was one of the only constant or familiar elements in his life at the moment. Anything that was familiar was welcome, but anything that exposed him to change could stay away, preferably for the rest of his life.
After one more hour of grieving, Lightning wiped away the rest of his tears and drove back to the track, feeling ready to be strong for his daughter.
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Once he returned to the track, Lightning informed Sally he was back. Then he went in search of Rayne.
It did not take him long to find her. She was next to her trailer with Eric, sobbing into his side as he comforted her. He looked morose as well, but he apparently knew it was not his time to lament.
"Hey," Lightning said softly, driving up to the two teenagers.
Eric looked up and gave a weak smile. Rayne also looked up but did not smile. The way she looked described the way Lightning felt: depressed, confused, and lost.
"We need to talk," Lightning said, looking at Rayne.
Eric backed away, obviously feeling unwelcome.
"No, stay, Eric," Lightning said. "You're just as much family now as Doc was."
Eric stopped moving and looked at Lightning uncertainly.
"Now, Rayne," Lightning said. "It's going to be hard to race two days after all of this, but Doc specifically told me to tell you to race, and I think it's only right to do it. Do you agree?"
"Of course," Rayne said, sniffing.
"Good," Lightning said. "I think we need to go out on the track now and take a couple of laps just to warm you back up and warm me up to the idea of being a crew chief."
"I agree," Rayne said.
"Then let's get to it," Lightning said, smiling for the first time since the death of his surrogate father.
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The next day, Lightning woke up at ten. He drove out of his trailer and into another bright day. He lowered his sunglasses and saw that Rayne was already awake. She was reading a book and sipping on a can of fuel.
"Morning," Lightning said.
"Morning," Rayne replied.
"How are you feeling?" Lightning asked.
"I should be the one asking that question," Rayne said.
"I'm okay," Lightning said. This was actually the truth. Sure, he was incredibly sad, just like a good proportion of the racing community, and probably a good amount more than that, but there were things on the agenda other than mourning, and the Piston Cup was one of them. It proved as a good distraction.
Two and a half hours later, Lightning put on his headphones and drove up onto Doc's podium. He was shaking from hood to bumper; he was unbelievably nervous of doing this. If he caused Rayne to wreck, he could never forgive himself.
Much to Lightning's relief, the race went off without a problem. He found that being a crew chief was not as hard as one may think; in fact, it made him feel more in control, and that brought an unexpected comfort.
"How are you holding up, Rayne?" Lightning asked after one hundred laps.
"Pretty good," Rayne replied. "How far is the pack behind me?"
"Far," Lightning said. "About eleven lengths or so."
"Good," Rayne said.
The remainder of the race went off without a hitch. Even though Lightning was still tense about his new position, he was beginning to relax a bit.
"I think you need to start moving up a little," Lightning said when there were twenty laps left. "It'll get you in a better position when you make your move."
"Okay," Rayne said.
Out on the track, Rayne visibly inched up onto Hollister and Storm, who were in their customary spots.
"Good," Lightning said. "Go ahead and go in for the kill."
"Okay," Rayne said. "If Storm and I get into our usual speed duel, what am I supposed to do to get ahead of him?"
Lightning's tank lurched. He had forgotten to come up with a solution to that problem. All of the confidence he gained over the past three hundred and ninety laps was suddenly gone.
"I don't know," Lightning said, panicking.
"Don't worry," Rayne said. "I have an idea that might work."
"What is it?" Lightning asked.
"You'll see," Rayne responded.
On the track, Rayne quickly passed both Storm and Hollister on the inside.
"Great job!" Lightning said, grinning at his daughter's accomplishment. He was still nervous about her plan; he would like to be informed of it before she actually performed it, but Doc would have trusted her, and he would too.
"Thanks," Rayne said. She surged ahead of the other two competitors.
After several seconds, Storm let his speed loose. He roared after Rayne, obviously in it to win the Piston Cup and to become the first rookie to win the cup.
Storm eventually caught up with Rayne. The two engaged in their usual speed battle all the way into the last lap.
At this point, Lightning was about to pass out. His engine was running faster than it ever had before and he could not think clearly enough to speak.
Rayne and Storm swept through the first turn the same way they always did, and then they swept into the second turn where Rayne seemed to lose some ground. Lightning's tank lurched; faltering like that could cause her to lose the race.
Then suddenly, Rayne shot out of the turn like a slingshot. She had used her turn four move in turn two and taken Storm by surprise. She passed her rival instantly and swept through the third and fourth turns by herself, winning the Piston Cup by ten lengths.
"YES!" Lightning yelled. "You did it! You're amazing!"
Rayne was sobbing and nothing she said could be understood, but Lightning understood her feeling.
The crowd was roaring and cheering louder than Lightning had ever heard it before. He backed off of the podium, kissed his wife jubilantly, and then went to meet his daughter.
Rayne got off the track, sobbing harder than Lightning had ever seen her before, and lately he had seen a good amount of tears shed. He engulfed her in a huge hug.
"I'm so proud of you," he said quietly to where nobody else could hear. "Doc would be too."
"Th-thanks," Rayne said shakily.
"You have to make a speech," Lightning said, looking up to see everyone staring at them.
"I'm going," Rayne said, going up to the podium. She approached the microphone and began to speak.
"I'm not going to say much because I don't think I can," Rayne said, laughing slightly as tears ran down her face. "First, I'd like to thank my parents for all their support and advice. Secondly, I would like to thank my best friend, Eric Porter, who is always there for me. But I'm accepting this Piston Cup in the name of Doc Hudson, my former crew chief, who passed away two days ago. He always had advice to help me succeed." She choked on a sob. "And without him, I would have never gotten to be here accepting a Piston Cup."
Lightning watched his daughter, the first rookie and female to win the Piston Cup, deliver her speech, and he could not help but shed a couple tears. She had worked so hard for this moment.
Lightning knew that nothing would ever be the same again without Doc, but that did not mean the McQueen legacy could not continue with Rayne as the frontrunner.
End Notes: I hope that was a good enough ending for the trilogy! It really saddens me that it's over but it also gives me a sense of great accomplishment. I have been working on these stories for two years now. I would like to thank all of my wonderful reviewers throughout the story. I'd like to give thanks to my anonymous reviewer, Ted, who reviewed every chapter and gave good advice and compliments. I'm thanking you here because I cannot give you review replies when you review. Anyway, I enjoyed myself thoroughly and I hope you guys enjoyed every moment of it as much as I did! Please review to tell me how you liked the ending. Thank you! You guys are amazing!
