Lightning hadn't explained anything to Jackson when they returned to the truck. It had been a little awkward jogging back and keeping pace with the other. The shoulder of the road wasn't wide enough for them to run side by side so there'd been a bout of leapfrogging depending on who was running stronger at the moment.
He did feel a little smug when he'd gotten ahead before reaching the truck.
It looked so out of place beside that track. Lightning couldn't help but feel he was encroaching with the bright red transport truck parked near the dilapidated grandstands. His stock car looked like it didn't belong there and he hesitated before moving around to climb in. He looked over the roof to see Jackson still standing against the rail.
"You just going to stand there the whole time?"
"Dirt's not my thing."
Lightning grit his teeth and rounded the car again to approach the rail. "Make it sound like it's beneath you."
Jackson had been studying his own nails and picked at a hangnail on his ring finger. He glanced up at Lightning nonchalantly. "Pretty sure that's what I meant."
"Ohh..." Lightning shook his head and took a step back. He started in the direction of the transport truck. Jackson had crossed a line with that one. "Hey, Mack!"
"Yeah, Boss?" Mack looked away from the current trending news on his phone and down to where Lightning stood near the front tire.
"The back still open?"
"Well yeah, I didn't think you'd want it closed up till the cars were put away..."
Lightning grinned wolfishly. "Perfect."
"What are you doing." Jackson asked as he caught up with him.
"I want to see how these next gen cars handle."
"You're not touching my car."
"But how will I ever learn the new techniques unless I drive the newer car?"
"That's not my problem."
"Oh, I think it is."
"I don't know what you think-"
"Because the thing is, Jackson, Sterling expects us to work together this week. Not hold out when the opportunity for improvement arrives."
Jackson had slipped past him and stood at the top of the ramp, hands braced on his sides with a defiant expression. "I'll just tell Sterling you couldn't handle it."
"Ooo...bad move." Lightning made a face before pointing to the front of the truck. "Because it would be our word against yours..."
Jackson hadn't thought of that, and Lightning grinned at the exact moment Storm realized he'd lost.
Glancing briefly over his shoulder, Storm finally looked back at Lightning. "Fine." His voice had lost all bravado as he replied flatly. "But I'm taking it out first."
"Then get to it, Next Gen."
Lightning jumped down from the edge of the ramp and started back to his own car as a lump suddenly formed in his throat. It had been a knee jerk reaction, wanting to put the other in his place but it struck him hard how his last comment echoed any number of times he'd been told to do something.
Get to it, Hot Rod.
He nearly teared up, kicking at the dirt of the track before he climbed into his stock car. " 'm trying, Doc-..."
"Why are we still doing this."
"Because I just lapped you four times."
Lightning had found the only sturdy section of railing left and had climbed up to sit on the old whitewashed board to get a better look at what was going on. Jackson was hopeless on this track and his irritation was quite possibly the sweetest thing to ever grace Lightning's ears. For such a horrible start to the week it was certainly raising his spirits to see that Storm wasn't perfect at everything.
Not that he really had expected him to be, but it was nice to actually witness.
"Did you even break eighty this time?" He smirked.
"You know what, McQueen, we shouldn't be doing this. What has this got to do with Florida?"
"More than you'd think."
"Don't start with the old man wisdom and rhetoric."
"Alright, fine." Lightning rested an elbow on his knee and pulled a page from Jackson's own book, surveying his nails in boredom. "I just can't believe you'll let a dirt track of all things beat you."
"It hasn't beaten me."
Lightning only glanced up briefly with raised brows.
It didn't help Storm's mood knowing his own perfectionism was being used against him. Instead of throwing a tantrum, which he was sure McQueen would have done, he only clamped his teeth together and started back for the 2.0 IGNTR next gen car.
"You'll want to turn right." Lightning threw out without looking up.
Jackson hesitated before turning on his heel. "What?"
"You know." He finally looked up and gestured to the turn as if it were common knowledge. "Right to go left."
"What the hell does that even mean."
"Exactly what I just said."
"That doesn't make any sense!"
"Yeah I didn't think so either, but that was a long time ago."
"The key word there being long." Jackson commented flippantly.
After an hour or so, Lightning really was wondering just what the hell he was doing. He was supposed to be training, not teaching some obnoxious kid how to make a left turn. Wasn't Storm supposed to be teaching him?
"That was sloppy."
Lightning nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice he didn't recognize and his hands gripped the board he was perched on to keep from falling off. He kept his eyes on the black car, though, expecting at any moment for the local to tell them they needed to pack it up and get out of there.
"He's terrible, but two laps ago he nearly put it through the rail so there's a little improvement." He replied conversationally. Maybe if he struck up a conversation they wouldn't get kicked out as quickly.
"That track's not nearly as clean as it used to be."
"Wouldn't expect it after so long, but he's not going to know the difference."
A companionable silence fell over them, the only sound being the tires of Jackson's car as they kicked up dirt and a few stones, and the engine straining when the car spun out on the turn nearest them.
Lightning couldn't help the feeling of familiarity when the man to his left chuckled lowly. Apparently he was enjoying the kid's torment as much as Lightning was, swearing lowly under his breath before commenting. "He is a mess."
Lightning was a little surprised when he ducked under the rail and walked out to the car. He supposed the man didn't need his permission but he hadn't expected him to get involved. He watched with faint interest as the stranger stood partially hidden by the sleek black Piston Certified Next-Gen model car, hands on his knees as he spoke to Jackson through the window. Something told Lightning this wasn't his first rodeo.
He hopped down from the rail and started out on to the track, surprised and a little irritated, that Jackson wasn't giving any lip as he climbed up out of the car.
Lightning was halfway to them when the man was already starting back. "How is it he doesn't talk back-" He paused and stood shell shocked for a moment when he finally did get a decent look at him.
"I just have more experience dealing with smart mouth kids." He smirked as he passed.
Lightning spun on his heel, digging the folded paper out of his back pocket as he stuttered. "Hey- wait, you're-!"
He could vaguely tell Jackson had caught up and was standing a few paces behind him but paid him no mind.
It was Smokey, it had to be. Lightning felt a sense of relief wash over him even as his heart began to race and embarrassment rushed through him at how silly he must have looked running after the older man. He was afraid to reach out to physically stop the other, the last thing he needed was to start off on the wrong foot. He'd done that before and wasn't interested in doing so again. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized how ridiculous he'd look if he was wrong, but continued anyway.
"You're Smokey! You were the crew chief for The Hudson Hornet, I've been-"
"What is it you're trying to accomplish here exactly?" He turned partially to look the kid over.
Lightning stopped, standing in the middle of the track, looking lost with a folded piece of paper in his hands. "I just-"
"Want to prove you still got it."
There was a long pause and Lightning actually looked hesitant for a moment before pressing on again. "You are him though, right?"
He watched patiently as Lightning unfolded the paper and pointing to the picture. A few feet behind him the kid in the black and electric blue hoodie almost looked like he felt sorry for him. It wasn't hard to see McQueen was desperate to find this person. "You knew Doc."
He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh as he studied the kid. Even now he was filled with boundless energy, if he looked past the wary hope that shown through McQueen's countenance he could catch glimpses of another overly excitable driver that wanted nothing more than his advice and approval. He forced back a pang of hurt and finally spoke.
"Yeah. I knew Hud."
