Whumptober Alternate Prompt No. 13: Crutches

The hospital had been hell, but then again, Lightning had never particularly liked hospitals in the first place. Too much noise. Too many doctors invading your space when all you wanted to do was sleep. Besides, the hospital is where people died, so… Yeah, he did not like hospitals.

He could've cried when he finally got released.

That had been over two weeks ago.

Countless days in the hospital and now, countless weeks with these stupid crutches.

Lightning hated them more than he hated anything else in the world—okay, maybe not more than he hated clowns or hospitals—but that wasn't important right now.

What was important was the fact that he could barely hobble around the house, much less the town.

"Reminds me of the time I broke both my legs," Mater declared shortly after Lightning's return home. "Then I had to use them crutches as my legs 'cause I could hardly walk otherwise. Man, you shoulda seen the way I hobbled 'round town."

Lightning saw Doc give a subtle shake of his head over his newspaper.

"Yeah." He turned his attention back to Mater and rolled his eyes. "Sure, you did."

"I sure did! You should remember 'cause you was there too."

"Yep. Definitely remember that one."

"I swear," Mater replied, clearly picking up on Lightning's sarcasm, "you never remember anything…"

For her part, Sally had walked away with major bruises, a concussion, and a fractured arm, but at least she could walk properly.

At least she could run her business.

The most he could do was watch TV and complain to Doc about how much his leg itched.

"Can't I just take the cast off for, like, one second? One single second?"

Lightning had learned quickly that stupid questions like that wouldn't even earn a reply.

He'd never seen Doc look so scared when they had reunited at the hospital the night of the crash. Nor so relieved. Even now, as he struggled his way through each day, Doc made things as easy and as comfortable for him as possible.

The fact that they were stuck in the off-season months was a blessing of sorts. Much as he disliked not being able to compete, Lightning knew he would've been out of the game had there been a race on.

He was certain the healing process would go a lot faster if he could just get some proper sleep. Lightning could tell Sally was having nightmares too. The circles under her eyes were a dead giveaway. That, and the way she'd not-so-subtly asked if he ever dreamed about it.

It. The crash that must not be named. It was funny, really, the way everyone danced around the subject, not wanting to bring it up for fear of… something.

All except Doc. The man never shied away from telling things as they were. To Doc, the crash happened and now it was time to move on.

Easier said than done. It wasn't as if Lightning didn't notice the way Doc's gaze lingered on him just a few seconds longer than usual, as if making sure he was still there. Or the way he stole quick glimpses into Lightning's room when he thought Lightning was sleeping.

Just to make sure.

Lightning sighed and stretched his good leg after the door closed once again. I'm still here, Doc.

Somehow, I'm still here…

After tripping one day, Lightning kicked the nearest wall, shaking his crutches as if wringing their necks. "These things are so stupid."

Doc glanced up from his morning paper. "You do know they're helping you walk, right?"

"No, they're keeping me from running."

"Since when do you run?"

"Well, I never wanted to until I couldn't. And I run all the time."

"Hmm."

"Forget it," Lightning muttered, sliding into a kitchen chair and slamming his crutches against the wall.

As he would soon find out, the crutches were the easy part. Compared to what came next, limping around on crutches was a breeze.

The real challenge came when the cast was finally off and the crutches disposed of—and it came time to get back behind the wheel.

Not his wheel, of course. No, the sports car had been totaled. But waiting to go out and buy a new one could wait a few days. Or weeks.

Because car shopping meant test driving, and driving meant he could crash again.

It's sunny, you idiot. You're not gonna crash in the sun.

People crash in daylight all the time.

To make things worse, the proposal also weighed heavily on his mind. Doc had said going through all that crap together with the crash would make it sweet, but now it just felt wrong.

"Hey, we just crashed and we're now in recovery. You have a broken arm, I have a broken leg. I can't guarantee that won't ever happen again. Wanna marry me?"

Yeah. Right.

Focus.

He needed to focus.

He needed to brainstorm.

That's how he found himself sitting in a booth at Flo's opposite the most romantic person in Radiator Springs. Probably. If Lightning was being honest, the tattoo artist had been the only one available.

"So, what's your plan so far?" Ramone asked, digging into his burger as Lightning shrugged.

"I don't know. I figured I'd just ask her."

"How?"

"Uh… Like everyone does? You know, get down on one knee, hold up the ring, that sort of thing."

"No, dude! You have to be unique! Make it something she'll remember forever! Let me put it this way: if she can't tell the difference between your proposal and the last Hallmark movie she watched, then you did it all wrong. Got it?"

"Uh… yeah, maybe? But I don't think she watches Hallmark."

"Dude, that's not the point. You gotta make it special. Unforgettable!"

"Okay, so how did you propose to Flo?"

"Oh, that's simple: I didn't."

"Excuse me, what?"

"She proposed to me because I was taking too long, or something. But if I had, this is how I would've done it…"

Lightning came away from the impromptu planning session that day no closer to answering his question than before. All of Ramone's ideas would've been great for someone like Flo, but he couldn't see Sally getting behind any of them.

"Doc," he asked, trying again that night as the two lounged in the living room, "did you ever get married?"

"Do I look like I ever got married?"

Lightning shrugged, ignoring the chuckle that threatened to emerge at Doc's typically dry statement. "Just checking."

"I think," Doc began before Lightning could say anything more, "you should do it here."

"I didn't even ask you my question yet."

Doc went on without missing a beat. "She loves the town. You should propose here. That was your question, wasn't it?"

"Okay, yeah, that's a good idea, but how do I do it?"

Turning a page in his book, Doc shrugged. "However you want."

"Yeah, but like how?"

With a sigh, Doc glanced up from his reading. "Son, I can brainstorm ideas with you, but I can't hold your hand and tell you how to propose. In the end, that's up to you."

"Yeah…" Lightning slumped back against the couch. "I figured you'd say something like that."

And so, they brainstormed. Even as plans began to form and pieces of the proposal puzzle began to slide into place, something about it still felt off.

Something didn't sit well.

You're copping out.

A shiver ran down his spine at the whispered accusation.

You're doing it right here in town.

You're taking the easy way out.

Pfft, no I'm not. She loves this town.

No, it insisted. She loves the Wheel Well. She loves the view from the top of the cliff. She loves the bridge and the old dirt road and the waterfall.

You're copping out because you can't get over yourself.

With clenched fists, he eyed the garage. It was almost as if the cars shut away inside were yelling at him, dissing him from their dark prison for being such a coward.

Stuffing his fists in his pockets, Lightning stomped off down the road to Flo's. Maybe Ramone would have some last minute advice…

And I'm not a coward.

He just… wasn't up to getting back in a car yet.

It's been forever since the accident. What are you afraid of?

Grinding his jaw, he crossed the street, eager to get away from the whispers.

Or, rather, he limped across the street. Most days, his leg still throbbed, serving as another reminder of all that had happened.

Because you couldn't make a simple turn.

It was raining.

The limp was annoying as all get out, but Lightning couldn't seem to shake it.

"Your limp is psychosomatic," Doc had told him a few days earlier.

"What?" He had crossed his arms in defiance. "No, it's not."

"Rookie," Doc said with a sigh, "you could drop the limp any time you want to, and that's the problem—you don't want to."

"What, are you a doctor, judge, a racing expert, and a psychiatrist now? And what do you mean, I don't want to? I want more than anything to get rid of this thing! To be normal again!"

Apparently, normal was relative because Sally seemed to be doing just fine with her arm, which had recovered nicely. Just the sight of her reminded him how he had screwed everything up.

And yet, he still carried the ring box with him whenever he left the house.

Just in case.

Just in case what?

Just in case he got brave all of a sudden.

Just in case.

"You know," Doc said when Lightning shuffled back through the side door that evening, "the new season starts next month—and that doesn't take into account the pre-season. Sooner or later, you're going to have to get back behind the wheel."

"I know."

"Simply knowing and actually doing something about it are two different things."

"I know, okay? I'm… working on it."

Doc eyed him for a moment, then leaned back against the counter, waiting for the coffee maker to work its magic. "Have you tried just sitting in it?"

"In what? In case you haven't noticed, I don't have a car anymore."

"Use the Hornet. Or better yet, the #95."

As Lightning fished for an excuse as to why that would most definitely not be better, he cursed the fact that he lived so close to his racing headquarters. No separation between home and business anymore.

Then again, he supposed there never really had been any to begin with.

"Yeah," he said, keeping his tone airy and noncommittal, "maybe I'll do that…"

To his relief, Doc didn't push it, he merely poured his coffee.

But now, the clock was ticking.

Next month…

Only a month.

He only had a month to get himself back together, though racing was far from his mind at the moment. All he could concentrate on was the ring burning a hole in his pocket.

The ring he'd found in a quaint little antique shop in Virginia during an extended race weekend. Gosh, that was a long time ago…

Far too long to still be lugging it around. It deserves to be on her finger.

It needs to be on—

But what if she said no? Lightning hadn't considered that possibility…

Just when you finally have it all planned out, you have to think of that.

Nice going, McQueen.

One night, when the nightmares refused to give him any rest, he took Doc's advice and ventured out to the garage.

Slipping behind the wheel of the Hornet was easy. The hard part came when he had to stay there.

Every second he remained seated was another second his heart got to pound against his chest. He could hear the rain; could feel the cool air blowing through the vents.

"Maybe you should slow down."

He felt his foot ease off the pedal, even as it sat stationary on the car floor.

"Lightning…?"

Her voice… It had been so shaky, so…

"I can't even see the road. I think we need to pull off and—"

"Lightning!"

The pulse of the impact radiated through his bones with a shiver. White-knuckled, he clutched the wheel, willing the memories to fade.

That sound would forever be branded in his mind. The scrape of tearing metal. The screech of the brakes. The pounding of the rain.

Sally's scream…

His throat felt hoarse just thinking about it.

With a gasp, he stumbled out of the car, nearly taking a tumble onto the concrete.

Chest heaving, Lightning retreated back to the house, not even sparing a second to look back.

You're fine, he told himself, falling into bed again. You'll get over it in time for the race.

It'll be fine…

Lying to himself had always come easy for some reason, and Lightning wasn't about to stop now. Not when he needed a little good news—even if none of it was true.

The funny thing about plans, he had discovered, is that they never really unfolded the way you wanted them to. One might almost be tempted to ask, why even make plans?

He'd planned on working his way back behind the wheel in a slow but steady fashion.

He'd planned to propose in town, in front of the courthouse because it looked nice there—"Photo op," Ramone had said, "because you know I'm going to be taking a photo. You've gotta preserve these memories, dude."

He'd planned on proving to Doc that his limp was a real result of his broken leg and that it would only go away with time.

In the end, Sally had thrown each and every one of those plans out the window with one simple question.

"Hey, Stickers. Wanna go for a drive?"

Lightning had chuckled at first, a nervous sound that he did not like hearing from himself. "I don't have a car."

And let that go down in the Guinness Book of Records as the lamest excuse ever.

"That's okay." Her smile had been easy, sweet. "I do. But, do you mind driving?" She'd brushed a few fingers over her arm then. "My wrist has been bugging me lately. I think I took the brace off too soon…"

And that's how Lightning found himself sitting in Sally's Porsche that afternoon, stiff fingers gripping the wheel.

If she noticed his anxiety, she didn't say anything about it. She just smiled, rubbed his arm, and buckled in.

Then, she waited.

Waited for him to start the car.

But… he couldn't. Every time he tried to move his hand off the wheel, he only clung to it tighter.

"Maybe you should slow down…"

A slender hand reached over and gently turned the keys.

The engine revved to life, humming in time to Lightning's rapidly climbing heartbeat.

"You ready, Stickers?"

"Lightning…?"

Swallowing hurt, yet he forced his constricting throat to work for him.

"Uh… Yeah… Yeah, sure, just…"

Hold on a second.

"I can't even see the road. I think we need to pull off and—"

"Lightning?"

"Lightning!"

His brain screamed at him to bail, to tumble out of the Porsche as he had out of the Hornet. Before he could make a move, however, he felt Sally's hand on his arm.

"Hey, look at me. It's going to be okay."

"But…" Lightning shook his head, tearing his gaze from hers and fixing it back on the road. "What if I… if I crash us again…?"

"You won't."

The scoff he managed to force out was much better than the gasp his brain had been shooting for. "How do you know?"

In response, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I just know."

"I just…" A heavy sigh wracked his frame as he turned the keys. The hum faded, all life draining from the vehicle. "I don't trust myself not to do the same thing all over again."

"I trust you."

And just like that, Lightning felt his hand drift back toward the keys, hesitating only a moment before giving them a sharp turn.

The engine revved again, filled with renewed life and energy.

Sally kept her hand on his arm, even going so far as to cuddle up against him.

"You're going to do great," she whispered, and even though his heart still hammered against his chest in a vain attempt to break a few ribs, he felt his foot ease down on the brake.

It took everything in him to shove the stick into drive, but when it came time to put the pedal to the metal, he found his foot slamming down. Almost as if it had been waiting an eternity for this moment to arrive.

As they sped down Main Street—careful not to run over any tourists—Lightning was sure he felt some part of his soul transcend. He hadn't gone so long without driving since the moonshine incident.

And he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it.

Sucking in a steadying breath, Lightning risked a glance at his girl. "Where to?"

She let out a light chuckle. "You know where."

Right.

Halfway into their journey, she flicked on the radio and he smiled when he caught her mouthing the words to the song out of the corner of his eye.

The ride to the waterfall was always beautiful, but that afternoon, Lightning couldn't recall ever taking a more gorgeous drive. Soon, he found himself leaning against the railing of the old wooden bridge, gazing out at the vast scenery, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as small droplets of water tickled their skin.

"I knew you could do it." Her whisper broke the sweet silence, and though he had no reply, he felt a smile tug his lips as he pulled her closer, her head tilting to rest on his chest.

"Thanks, Sal," he said after a few moments.

The silence returned and Lightning soaked it in, letting himself slip into the familiar trance of a beautiful Arizonan winter day.

"Hey Stickers… can I ask you something important?"

"Huh? Sure." It took a minute for the implications of Sally's question to register in his relaxed mind. With a start, he shot bolt upright. "What? Wait, wait, wait, hold on! I'm supposed to be the one asking this question!"

Her brow arched, but she waited patiently as he fumbled around in his pockets, trying desperately to locate the box.

With as much ceremony as he could muster, Lightning got down on one knee right there in the middle of the bridge. "Sally Carerra," he began, trying hard not to be affected by Sally's rising emotions, "I've known you for a long time, but not nearly as long as I want to. Meeting you is one of the best things that ever happened to me, second only to the possibility of spending the rest of my life with you. So, will you do me the honor of—?"

She nearly knocked the air out of his lungs when she flung her arms around him, laughing yes, yes, yes! over and over again.

"Hey," he managed to get out between his own bouts of laughter, "I didn't finish!"

"Sorry! Sorry," she said, face beaming as she pulled away. "Sorry, go ahead."

Clearing his throat, Lightning popped the ring out and slid it on her finger. "Sally Carerra, will you marry me?"

"Of course." Though it didn't seem possible, her smile grew larger. "Yes, of course, I'll marry you! And by the way, this ring is absolutely gorgeous!"

Lightning found himself once again engulfed in her tight embrace.

The proposal went nothing like he had planned, but as he wrapped his arms around his new fiancé, he couldn't imagine it going any other way.

"I have a bottle of Champagne Cognac in the trunk," she said, a different kind of smile dancing across her face. "Vintage 1971."

"What? How on earth did you get that?"

Her laugh was a beautiful, magical sound Lightning never tired of hearing. "When you live in a vintage town, getting stuff like that is easy." Another laugh echoed off the falls when Lightning cocked a brow. "Doc gave it to me. I thought we could take it up to the Wheel Well and have dinner, then pour a glass or two under the stars."

He laughed again, shaking his head in amazement. "How long have you been planning this day?"

"Longer than you," she replied with a wink.

"Okay, I highly doubt that. I've been planning this proposal for months."

"Last I checked, years beats months. Nice try, though, Stickers." With that, she pecked him on the cheek before making her way back to the car. "You coming?"

Slightly dazed, Lightning nodded and stumbled after her.

Years…?

Part of him wanted to know how long Doc had known about this and the other part decided ignorance is bliss.

One thing that didn't escape his notice as he climbed back into the car was the clear lack of limping he had done on the bridge. Huh. Sometimes, he hated when Doc was right because it usually meant that he was wrong.

Not this time, he thought with a smile.

"Just drive carefully," Sally warned when he started up the car. "We don't want the cork to pop off back there."

"Yeah, it might have been nice to know about that before I raced the car up here," he said with a chuckle.

Her brown eyes sparkled. "And ruin the surprise? Never. Now, let's hit the road before my reservations expire."

"What? Reservations?"

"Just kick it, Stickers," she said, laughing at his shock.

"Yes, ma'am."

And with that, he sped down the road, savoring the feeling of his beloved's hands hugging his arm.