Cars Chapter 2

"So where is this hotshot doctor that your agent demanded you hire?" Doc asked dryly. He turned the page of his newspaper, the front page of which displayed yet another view of Lightning's crash in last week's state race. The whole article was devoted to the rookie's ongoing recovery, not a syllable was mentioned of the winner of the race, much to Doc's satisfaction. Chick Hicks was the one responsible for the crash, and his victory was being stripped from him due to misconduct on the course.

Lightning was having the final few dents hammered out of him, a painful process as it turns out. The first part of his treatment consisted of bending him back into shape, which the team of doctor's aides had been doing for the better part of the week. "I'm not-ulg- really sure, I haven't seen-ow- him since yesterday morning. Hey fellas, can we go a little bit easier on the hood please? The assistants ignored his grumbling as always, and continued to use their mallets on the little sports car. Doc let out a chuckle. "Come on kid, I thought you were made of stronger stuff than that?" Lightning winced as yet another dent was straightened out. "OUCH! Doc, please, just get me out of here! I'll do laps till my tires burst, but no more hammers!

"No can do kid, till you get a clean bill of health from Dr. Vert, you're going to be stuck right here. Speaking of which…" Doc rolled out of Lightning's room to get a good a look at the rest f the garage. There were plenty of Doctors and aides running to and fro, but there was no sign of the green convertible that Lightning was paying a small fortune to for his health. Dr. Verte was a very well known specialist. In fact, Doc had seen his image posted in nearly every county on advertisement boards. However, the one place Doc had yet to see him was at his patient's bedside. Once again, Doc found himself questioning Harve's "recommendation" of medical care. The agent had insisted on getting Verte, and couldn't be negotiated with when it came to Lightning, his rising star. Though Doc had never met Harve, he had taken an instant disliking to him when he had called Lightning after his piston cup race last year, congratulating him on what he called 'his first publicity scam'.

"The crowd ate that sentimental crap up!" he had cried with delight. "Lightning, you're a natural, baby! Excellent strategy! I guess some of my lectures finally rubbed off on you, eh, kid?"

When Lightning had finally gotten off of the phone, he had been quiet for the rest of the day, until just before he had turned in for the night; Doc had received an unexpected visitor.

"Doc?" Lightning called out from the front door of the clinic.

"Yhea McQueen?" Doc answered, coming out of the hallway leading to his bedroom.

"I just- when Harve called…" Lightning started of uncertainly before trailing off and looking down at the floor.

"Spit it out kid" Doc said gruffly, growing impatient. Lightning finally seemed to make up his mind and turned back towards Doc.

"You know that I didn't push Strip Weathers across the finish line for my image right?" He began to look a little panicked as he said this, as if he were pleading his innocence to a judge. Which technically, he was. "It wasn't to make me look good, I swear! I just wanted to-"

Doc began to chuckle as he realized what this was all about. "Hey rookie, it's all right, I understand" he began, cutting through Lightning's panic. "What you did out there was a good thing, no matter how that half-wit agent of yours tries to spin it. I know you weren't thinking of yourself out there, and I know that the King is mighty pleased to have count you as a friend who was willing to give up his dream for him."

Lightning looked visibly relieved at this, but then a guilty look took over his features again as he once more began to examine the floor. "Well, I didn't…exactly do it all for him either." He glances quickly up at Doc, then back down at the floor again. Doc tilted his head to the side, definitely curious now. "Well?" he asked. "Go on Lightning, why'd you do it then?"

His gaze still glued to the floor, Lightning said, "I kept thinking about your crash. The one that took you out of racing for good. I know it was a long time ago, and I realise I can't give back what was taken from you. But-" The race car didn't seem sure he wanted to have this conversation anymore. Doc could tell that Lightning was ready to bolt out of his clinic, so he tried his best to give the boy an encouraging smile. But it didn't seem to calm Lightning down, instead, he let out an exasperated breath before continuing,"I don't know really, maybe I thought it would give you some closure too. It seemed like the right thing to do, but if everyone thinks I did it just for the publicity, then I might as well be the jerk who raced by him."

This was probably the first time Lightning had really opened up to Doc, and the older car found that he wasn't quite certain how to react. He was touched that the boy had cared so much about his opinion of him. "Now listen here, McQueen," Doc said, attempting to get himself together so that he could properly reassure Lightning, "Nobody thinks that it was a publicity stunt, especially me. In fact, I don't think I could mention a time when I had ever been more proud."

Lightning finally looked up from the ground, and managed to give Doc a small smile. "Thanks Doc. I really needed to hear that from you."

"Don't think you can sweet talk your way out of training tomorrow, kid. Just 'cause I'm proud of ya doesn't mean you're a better racer." Doc said, letting Lightning know that despite their little heart-to-heart, he wouldn't think any less of him.

Lightning gave an exaggerated groan. "But Doc, surely the protégé of the fabulous Hudson Hornet deserves a break every now and then?"

Doc snorted as he headed back to his room. "Fabulous? Just last week you called me a grumpy old race-car!

Even though the conversation had brought the two cars closer together, Doc was still very aware of the fact that it was Harve who had upset Lightning so much in the first place. He never said anything intentionally hurtful to the boy, but Doc could immediately see where Lightning had gotten all of his notions of superiority from. Doc had had an agent just like him, who had built up his ego and confidence until he lost sight of why he had begun racing in the first place. Harve didn't care about Lightning, he cared about his image. Doc could see that Lightning didn't realize this, and he was worried that somewhere along the road, the kid would get hurt, just like he had.