Jackson suddenly felt like a third wheel.

He was never the third wheel.

They tagged along after this Smokey like a pair of ducklings all day long and Jackson hadn't uttered a word since they had left the beaten down track. He had no problem remaining quiet, he'd always been labeled as a quiet guy and really only ever spoke when he found he had something worthy of saying. Unless of course it involved goading one Lightning McQueen.

Because how could he pass up the opportunity to do that.

Even among the other Next Gen racers, Jackson wasn't one for light hearted banter or even trash talk. He had a goal to reach and there was no room for any of that.

Again, unless it was to piss off Lightning McQueen, to take him off his game and watch while Jackson scattered his titles and records like they were marbles on the track.

There was no room for McQueen left on that track, he had watched the previous season as one by one all the older drivers slowly faded to the background and left the racing scene to the young guns. Jackson had made it up to Piston Cup circuit with every intention to leave McQueen's records in the dust, which left little time for any kind of friendship building among his peers. He'd heard a few nasty remarks through the grapevine concerning his ego, his attitude and his aloofness, but seriously?

None of the other Next Gens had room to talk.

He wasn't there to make friends.

He didn't know what the hell he was doing here either, but it was watch this all play out or sit for hours in that trailer so he'd decided on the former.

Smokey (what kind of name was that anyway, couldn't be a real name. Neither could Lightning come to think of it. Why hadn't he considered that before...) had seemed a little exasperated by their presence at first until McQueen wore him down with questions about Doc.

Doc, Hudson Hornet, Fabulous Hudson Hornet.

Jackson only knew what he'd seen growing up watching the #95 dominate the track, as well as the most wins in a single season bit.

Which he also planned to beat.

He spent most the day, and then evening mulling this over, because what else was he supposed to do while McQueen sat star struck among people who hadn't run a race in decades. Jackson hadn't completely ignored them, of course, that would be exceedingly rude. He'd listened and answered a few questions even while scrolling through his phone. The connection was spotty though so there was only so much he could look at. One anecdote in particular had caught his attention, though, and he'd actually set the phone down for the rest of the evening.

The air outside was refreshing after spending so much time indoors. He hadn't paid much attention as they'd returned to the transport truck but he knew it hadn't taken long, it was dark out and he was in a foreign state, it wasn't like he knew where anything was anyway. The truck was pulled off the road near an old garage, well not really off the road but he'd heard Smokey say something about no one ever using that road much further past his place so the truck could stay where it was. He'd kicked gravel around outside the door, needing to stretch his legs and try again for a signal as he downloaded a few things from Google Play while the other two had left for the garage. He didn't follow, having had enough of the third wheel feeling and trips down memory lane that didn't include him.

He was startled when McQueen returned much later and looked like he'd been crying.

Jackson wasn't one for emotions, but for once he left his phone sitting propped on a rock to finish with its download and hesitantly entered the trailer.

One look at McQueen and he suddenly realized this week wasn't a joke anymore. Sitting at the dinette, Lightning looked like his world had just fallen apart, staring at the paper that had been folded in his back pocket for days.

"Um-" Jackson started hesitantly before thinking better of it and started down the steps backwards.

"You ever lose anyone, Storm..."

He stopped and hesitated on the last step, that was a pretty heavy question for someone you barely got along with.

"Uh..." He started again. "No. Not other than the usual...grandparents or-..."

The last thing he ever expected was to be standing in The Middle of Nowhere, Georgia, watching Lightning McQueen nearly have a nervous breakdown.

Lightning pinched the bridge of his nose, not caring anymore about keeping up appearances for Storm. He set the photo aside after it had collected a few stray tears that had fallen, blurring the ink at the corners of the printed page.

Smokey had asked to get a better look at the print out during their conversation in the garage, while Lightning marveled over the collection of letters and kept himself from tearing up in front of the older man, Smokey had studied the picture and offered him a little bit of insight behind the image.

It was a candid shot that Lightning had found in a box while going through Doc's garage a year or so ago that had then made it in to the book he'd written the forward for. The original had been framed and Lightning had very carefully chosen a place for it in the museum but had kept a printed copy during this whole trip.

Whoever had snapped the picture had either been incredibly lucky, or good at what they did. It was sharp, and crystal clear, despite the animated motion captured of the individuals in the picture. Smokey explained that it was from 1952 if he'd remembered correctly. He hadn't realized a photo had been taken but he was glad someone had. A very young, very vibrant looking Doc Hudson was smiling broadly while reaching up to catch what looked like a helmet being thrown towards him. Smokey had a less than enthused expression, though Lightning could sense some exasperated fondness as he'd stood to one side.

"Kid never could stand still." Smokey had muttered, staring at the image.

Lightning had turned his attention away from the wall to ask if they'd been close. He figured most drivers and crew chiefs were, it seemed to be the only way to have a decent career. He'd managed for a while his rookie season, but look at where that had gotten him, two blown tires and a tiebreaker race.

Then again, that had been the best decision of his life looking back on it.

He hadn't expected the answer he'd gotten and the sudden sense of familiarity made sense, of course brothers would be similar.

It had hit him like a punch to the gut to realize how little he seemed to know of his mentor suddenly. A thousand questions had all come to mind at once and he'd been overwhelmed, speaking quickly in an attempt to get all those thoughts out before he forgot anything.

Smokey had, of course, answered as much as he could but Lightning realized there were gaps and missing pieces to his memories also. He had stopped with his barrage of questions suddenly when it finally sank in that, this was Doc's brother, he was hurting too, and there stood Lightning chattering away without a thought to how this could be affecting him.

At his sudden silence, Smokey had tilted his head and raised a brow while regarding him.

"You are a lot like him." He'd huffed with faint amusement.

Lightning hadn't spoken but his curiosity was obvious.

"You might know him as Doc, but Hud, Jesse- was act now, think about it later, more often than not. Got him in to trouble too."

Lightning's eyes had gotten that wistful look again and he pulled a chair out.

He was afraid of overstepping his bounds, but Smokey had told him stories for hours.

Sitting at the dinette, he sighed lowly as he got his emotions under control and leaned against the little table. He propped his chin on his hand and spun the paper toward himself again, red eyed and emotionally exhausted.

Jackson sat across from him, his phone outside forgotten momentarily as he eyed the image upside down and heard Lightning's quiet remark.

"I have to find whatever it is he saw..."


AN: If I could insert an emoji, it would be that weird ugly sobbing one.