Tokyo General Hospital was unlike those back in England; which only added to the sport coupe's waiting room of the ER bared a closer appearance to a modern hotel lobby than it did a place of emergency. Calm music played on overhead speakers, a quaint rock garden sat raised in one corner, and a skylight allowed the evening sun to cast a rather cozy feeling glow across the room.
Finn hated it. It felt wrong, it felt unnerving. Hospitals were supposed to be stark white, clinical, devoid of any personality beyond immediate medical attention. Even the usual PA system with doctors and nurses making calls over that seemed to be prevalent in most hospitals was strangely absent from this one; perhaps as a way to keep the waiting room area seem less scary, Finn thought. Despite this, the silver coupe knew that the ambiance wasn't the reason for his unease.
Upon his arrival back in London, he was told that the original American he was meant to meet was in fact still alive. He'd been suspicious as to what happened since learning that Mater was in fact just a normal civilian tow truck. Initially, Finn had assumed the American had simply been in a situation like himself; potentially compromised and in need of a quick getaway. He'd assumed, just as he did, that the American had simply passed along his intel onto Mater discretely and ran off before the whole mission was compromised.
Of course, he wasn't exactly incorrect. The American agent had been compromised, had been in need of a getaway, and did in fact discretely pass his flash drive off to Mater. However, he had no idea that by the time the American himself realized he was compromised, it was already too late. Had Mater not been in the right place at the right time, that photo of Axelrod's engine would've been lost.
Finn had learned that the American agent, Rod Redline as he would come to learn, was tortured and beaten to within an inch of his life back in Tokyo. He'd been dragged out of that bathroom and snuck out a utility entrance, where street cameras periodically captured an orange AMC Gremlin, and AMC Pacer towing a beaten blue muscle car out to an old dock yard directly under the Rainbow Bridge racers were actively driving over. The footage wasn't located until after Rod's security system automatically sent out a distress signal to both the CIA and local emergency services.
In 2010, CIA agents were all officially given automatic distress calls should they undergo an interrogation. Why Rod's hadn't gone off sooner was down to the device's sensitivity which was clearly too low. It wasn't until the agent's engine block cracked that the device initially sprang into action, and it still took over thirty minutes before EMT, police, and Fire would arrive on the scene.
Upon the American's charred and beaten body being discovered in this now empty warehouse, he was immediately transported to Tokyo General Hospital, where other Japan based CIA agents would take control of the situation. Only those who needed to know were aware of the actual damage done to Rod's body, while other general staff were simply told of a major engine failure leading to gasoline ignition following an intense street fight with Yakuza.
All the while, Finn, Holley, and Mater spent the following week unraveling the mystery of this oil operation, and by extension Allinol. Each of them completely unaware of the American agent fighting for his life back in Japan.
CHROME headquarters was still mourning the loss of Leland Turbo when Finn arrived back, who'd been confirmed dead by Finn himself after discovering his demolished remains on the oil platform.
Finn arrived early in the morning; rain heavily pouring down outside. He'd expected a rather normal day back at the office, ready to discuss next steps regarding the Allinol bust. But he didn't expect to be pulled aside so abruptly immediately upon his arrival.
"That American is still alive. Those cars fucking butchered him back in Japan, how did this happen Finn? I've got the CIA breathing down my neck for answers!"
The director of CHROME had been lost for answers. Why did Finn not meet the American? Who was this tow truck? How did any of this happen?
Finn of course filled in every detail; explaining why his meeting with Rod had been completely fucked up. Despite his explanation going over well, and both the CIA and his own head director being incredibly understanding once learning the details, Finn still felt incredibly guilty about the whole situation. Did he really need to send Holley, an untrained field agent in his place? Could Finn have stopped this sooner? He didn't have answers, but he knew he needed to do something.
Finn begged the CIA and his own headquarters to let him visit the American. He needed to do something, say something, anything but ignore the situation. He'd been allowed to go without much fuss, it was a perfectly reasonable request after all. So within just hours of coming home, he was on a plane headed towards Tokyo.
"You're cleared to go see him now, Sir."
Finn snapped from his memories and quickly gave a curt nod of his hood to the nurse before him.
She returned the gesture, adding a soft smile before turning away beckoning the British car to follow.
The nurse led Finn to an elevator, where the two began their slow ascend to what appeared to be the fifth floor.
"I must warn you, he's in bad shape. He doesn't stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time, and he struggles to talk. He appears to have some vision problems in his left eye, so stay on his right so he can see you better. His mind is all there, and he definitely prefers you speak to him normally, don't try and talk slower for his sake."
The nurse's voice was soft and kind, she clearly had spent some time caring for the muscle car and wanted to ensure Finn would have all the information he needed before going in.
Finn nodded his hood again. "I understand. What exactly…. is wrong with him?"
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. The nurse made a polite gesture with her tire for Finn to drive out. Finn obeyed, and the nurse followed suit before directing him down the hall as she drove up next to him.
"It's mainly third degree burns in his drivetrain that's causing issues. Most of the physical damage can and will be repaired, but his entire engine has been compromised. His alternator gave out, and his battery was nearly flat by the time we got him hooked up to machines. His engine block has been completely torn open, exhaust system severely burned, it would honestly be easier to explain what isn't wrong."
The two cars slowed in front of an unassuming door, clearly Rod's room.
Finn nodded again; and made a move to enter, but the nurse stopped him.
"There's also a lot of nerve damage. His motor functions are… severely diminished. He can't move much, and he might never drive over sixty kilometers per hour again. He knows this… and it's obviously a hard pill to swallow. Just tread carefully, and be ready for potential outbursts. He's a proud car, and he doesn't like asking for help. If you can somehow… break down his barriers, get him comfortable, it would help him tremendously."
The nurse touched her tire to Finn's bumper, and never broke eye contact as she spoke. She wanted to convey just how much hope she was putting on this meeting, and Finn knew that.
"I'll do my very best." Was Finn's firm response.
The nurse nodded, backed away, and drove off down the hall. It was time for Finn to start the show.
The sports coupe pushed carefully at the door. It swung inwards silently, revealing a dimly lit room with a surprising amount of homey elements.
Keeping in theme with the rest of the building, the room resembled more of a hotel room than a hospital room, save for the medical equipment throughout. There were dimly illuminated wall sconces, which were connected to off white painted walls. The floor was hardwood instead of tile, and at the back wall was a series of tatami mats holding the sleeping blue muscle car.
Finn rolled forward slowly, inspecting the American as he grew closer. His eyes were shut, and a small raspiness filled his breath as he slept. The only other noise in the room was the subtle beeping of the medical equipment; the volume of which having clearly been turned down as to not disturb the peace of the room.
Rod's body was badly beaten, still yet to receive any reconstruction. This was most likely due to just how severely the muscle car's drivetrain had been damaged; he was still fighting to stay alive.
Body reconstruction was often the very last thing undertaken. Drivetrain issues needed to be dealt with first, or else a patient could die. Depending on the severity, it was done more as a formality. A simple collapsed suspension or dislocated drive shaft wasn't life threatening. However Rod's condition was so much worse than that.
An engine block failure alone is a tedious and often difficult operation to undergo. Modern medicine meant that it was nearly never life threatening, but it was still a rough procedure. Rod didn't just need his engine block replaced, he essentially needed to be rebuilt. Nearly everything in his engine bay would need refitting, but that could only be done after some time.
Finn knew you couldn't just swap out a car's entire drivetrain like it was paint work, it needed to be done slowly so the parts aren't immediately rejected by the host. OEM parts were of course going to have a higher chance of acceptance, but there was more to it than that. Rod's body needed to stabilize first, he needed to heal even if just a little bit before operations could begin. For a drivetrain swap to work, a car's body has to have some of its originality intact so that new parts have something to adhere to. If it was as simple as plopping in a new engine, almost every car would have upgrades.
Rod's body had been thoroughly destroyed inside and out. There wasn't much for replacement parts to be bolted to. His engine needed to heal over time to a point where parts could be replaced. Right now, there was nothing that could be done except make this car comfortable, and apply solvent to his battered engine in the hopes that it would restore itself to a point of at least sputtering, if not turning over.
"Chrysler…" Finn whispered.
Though quiet, the muscle car appeared to have heard Finn's muttering. Rod's body moved slightly, and his eyelids slowly rose open. As his good eye adjusted to the light, and his mind shook away the sleep, Rod grunted, and began to scan the room. His gaze quickly fell onto the silently waiting silver coupe.
"...Who… are you..?" Rod wheezed through labored breaths.
Finn rolled forward to within about 3 feet of the muscle car's front end.
"Finn… McMissile. You were supposed to meet me… that night." Finn spoke carefully, unsure of how this car would react.
Rod nodded his hood lightly, and took in a few breaths.
"Good to… meet ya.. Get my… picture?"
Finn smiled slightly. "Yeah I did. That tow truck solved it. You chose him well."
Rod again nodded his hood, the right side of his mouth rising slightly into a small grin.
"... Didn't choose… him. But… thanks…"
Unsure of whether or not Rod was growing irritated, or simply being sarcastic and poking a little fun at Finn's word choice. The silver coupe simply nodded, now at a loss for what to say next.
Rod blinked a few times, studying the silver car. He wasn't nervous, Finn was an experiencing field agent. It would take a lot more than a disgruntled, beaten up car to waver him. Instead, Finn seemed to be treading carefully, almost approaching the situation like an interrogation; being careful what to say so as to not illicit the wrong response.
"...S'not your fault…" Rod wheezed.
Finn looked down at his hood, and bit his lip for a moment as though he were calculating the muscle car's words.
"Thank you." Was all Finn could think to say after a few moments of pondering. He feared that if he got too sappy and sympathetic, the nurse's warning would turn into reality, and Rod would get angry.
After another moment of silence, with only the sound of Rod's slightly labored breaths and the beeping of medical equipment, Finn decided to ask a question.
"Do you know what happened? Why we never met?"
Rod drew in a breath. "...No."
Finn nodded his hood.
"I spotted some Gremlins I saw on the oil platform at the party. A diagnostic agent had met me there from London to tell me about your photo. I told her to go meet you instead so those Gremlins wouldn't see me. She told me Mater, I mean, the tow truck came out of the bathroom as soon as she went to open the door. The flash drive tracker followed him, and she never went inside."
Rod glanced off to the side before carefully readjusting himself. He grunted as he settled back down on his wheels.
"Could you… pass me… that water..?"
Finn followed the muscle car's gaze as it fell onto a container of water with a straw.
"Of course." Fin said as he pushed it in front of Rod's mouth.
The muscle car immediately took a few sips and seemingly stopped paying attention to Finn.
"Both she and I are truly sorry for this. It shouldn't have happened."
Finn couldn't just not acknowledge this. Everytime he spoke, every movement he made, Rod seemed like he was in a lot of pain. To not at least pass along a simple gesture of respect for the situation just didn't sit right in the British car.
Rod's glance instantly shot up to Finn again. His left eyelid drooped in what looked like a permanently angry expression, clearly due to nerve damage as the other eyelid moved normally. But now, his right eyelid met with his left in what was clearly a purposeful gesture of displeasure.
"I said…. It's not… your fault…"
Finn immediately recognized the annoyance in the muscle car's tone, and back up slightly, allowing the muscle car to assert his dominance, and show that Finn meant no harm or offense.
"Yes, yes I know. I just… It felt rude to not at least acknowledge.."
"Acknowledge… what…? Rod interjected.
Finn opened his mouth to speak again, the muscle car's eye lid raising in curiosity, before Finn deflated. He looked down at his hood and shut his eyes, saying nothing. He realized his words would likely only cause further damage, and he felt it better to simply allow Rod to get out what he needed to say, he would allow himself to be the punching bag this time.
"I… didn't ask… for… your sympathy… I'm… a big boy… I can… I can…"
Rod began to wheeze heavily, his anger quickly overwhelming what little energy his body had to offer him. It enraged him, but he couldn't do anything about it.
Finn immediately opened his eyes again as he heard Rod trail off. The muscle car's body shook for a moment as rage filled his expression, but quickly fell as his damaged body demanded he calm down.
Finn lightly pushed the container of water towards Rod again, gesturing for him to take a drink.
The muscle car accepted the gesture, and took a few gulps before pulling back again and letting out a wheezy sigh. He didn't say anything.
"I'm a bit peckish. Do you want some food?"
Rod returned his attention to the British coupe with a confused expression.
"There's a vending machine downstairs, or if you want something different I'm sure there's something good to eat in this neighborhood."
Finn had no idea if this tactic would work, but in all honesty he could go for something to eat.
Rod thought for a moment. He wasn't stupid he knew Finn was trying to change the subject, but he couldn't deny that he wanted something other than hospital food.
"Fries…" He found it even harder to talk now that he was still calming down, but he knew getting mad again would only make it worse. Another good reason to get some food into him.
Finn allowed a small but noticeable smile to adorn his grill.
"There's a McDonalds around the corner I saw before coming in, I'll be back in about thirty minutes."
Finn didn't wait for a response, he simply turned and drove out of the room, allowing the door to shut quietly behind him. This was a win in his book, no matter how small.
Rod couldn't help but to become a little excited about getting a treat after living on hospital food for a couple of weeks now; he needed to take pleasure in the small things now….
As the minutes passed, Rod continuously glanced at the clock, obviously readying himself for food. But there was something else there too… worry, anxiety. He hoped Finn would be okay out there… Chrysler knows he wasn't.