(A/n)
I know absolutely nothing about cars, I left parts I wasn't sure about pretty vague in the last chapter and this one but I've added bits and pieces of information I do know about to keep it interesting. That being said, I'm sorry if I get some things off about mechanical stuff for those who might find errors.

Cracker pulled up on the side of the road behind your car and jumped out of his truck, ready to get this done. Everything you'd ordered came first thing in the morning and you'd already gone and topped off all your fluids. You planned on getting more done before he got here but he threatened making your work life harder if you did. Whether he could do that or not wasn't something you were wanting to figure out, so you begrudgingly waited for him to come over.

He looked ready to get to busy, wearing a pair of ratty jeans and an old graphic tee with his hair pulled up and away from his face. It looked a little cold but he didn't seem to mind too much.

"What're we up to today?" He asked as he walked up to the front steps of the house.

You were sitting on them originally but stood when he made his way over.

"Oil change, new starter, breaks, and spark plugs."

Red huffed at him, staying put on the steps as you walked over to the car with Cracker. All your tools were already out and ready to go. You figured he wouldn't throw a fit over you getting some things set up.

"Where do we want to start?"

"Oil change. It'll be messy but since we'll already have it lifted, we might as well do that."

"Okay, show me what to do." He was helping himself into your car for the jack as you processed his words.

"All I need you to do is probably just hold some stuff, give me some light."

He popped out, jack in hand. "You shouldn't be doing anything with that cut, just tell me what to do and I'll get it done."

"You haven't said it but I'm pretty sure it's safe to assume you haven't worked on cars before."

"No, but you know what you're doing."

Cracker at least seemed to remember what all you did yesterday pretty well and soon had your car up once again, lifted off of the cinder blocks and easy to get under.

"The cut isn't that bad, I can work on my car."

He stopped what he was doing to turn and scowl at you. The quiet look made you nervous and you found you couldn't hold his stare. It was the same one he gave you when you confessed about possibly wanting to quit and it was too intimidating to compete with.

"It's free labor, just tell me what to do." He grumbled.

You weren't going to convince him you could do it so you resigned yourself to doing as he wanted. "Okay, fine."

Cracker seemed content with his win and got right to it, taking your directions rather well. You figured by tackling the oil change first, you could get the messier and more annoying job out of the way first. It definitely proved to be a hassle for Cracker as it was his first time doing any real mechanical work and he provided plenty of colorful commentary as he did the work for you.

It took twice as long than if you did it but when it was done, you were sure the rest of the work wouldn't be as annoying. Both of you had oil covering your fronts from his attempts at getting the old oil out and you couldn't be any more glad that he dressed smartly for the day. You would've felt bad if he wore something nicer.

From there, you put in the new starter. It went in a little easier than the ruined one came out, even with him having to struggle to get into the more compact spaces. He let you do a bit more hands on help with the brakes and that went surprisingly fast. When you'd put the tires back on and lowered the car, he decided it was a good time for small talk as you instructed him on how to get to where the new spark plugs go.

"Did your dad teach you how to do all this?" He asked as he felt around under the hood.

"Nope. User manuals and YouTube did."

That earned a chuckle from him. "I thought dads were supposed to do that."

"I mean, probably. Mine wasn't around for that kind of stuff though."

"Too busy for it?"

"Let's just say he's been out buying a pack of cigarettes for a long time now."

"Ouch." He grimaced. "So its just you and your mom?"

"You're not being too subtle about this." You grinned as he managed to get a couple of the plugs in and held out a hand for more.

"Bout what?"

"Wanting to know what makes my family complicated."

"I can't help it, you made it sound all mysterious." He smirked at you, obviously wanting you to divulge more details.

"It's not mysterious, it's stuff no one really cares about." You shrugged. "I get on with life just fine, it's no big deal."

"Then humoring me shouldn't be a big deal."

You handed over the last couple plugs and nibbled at your lower lip thoughtfully. "Since you like making deals, I'll tell you about my family life if you tell me about yours."

"Easy, deal." He scoffed.

"You first."

"What happened to ladies first?"

"That line of thinking is pretty old school, doesn't apply here."

He finished the job, grinning as you hooked up the car battery and fished the keys out of your pocket. If everything was done right, the car would start like normal and run like a champ. He waited for you to hop behind the wheel and get the car going. As expected, it roared to life and settled into a smooth purr as the engine idled.

"We'll take it for a drive, make sure she runs alright."

He nodded and squeezed into the passenger side after reaching around and tossing your tools in the back. Your car was small, there was no beating around the bush when it came to that. It took all the effort you could muster to not burst into laughter at the sight of him scrunched up and trying to find a way to get more leg space.

"The handle is under the front of the seat." You giggled as he reached for it and let out a sigh of relief as he got enough space to no longer have to hunch over.

"I can't believe you'd willingly put so much effort into keeping this clown car running."

"Don't make fun of her and you're supposed to be filling me in on the Charlotte lifestyle."

He went to rest his hand near the gearshift but the second you reached for it, he settled for keeping his hands in his lap. He looked like an overgrown child. As you pulled away from the curb, he let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, I grew up just like everyone else; in a spacious four story home with 36 other siblings."

You couldn't not laugh at that. He knew he lived a rediculous life and was unbothered enough by it to make it into a joke.

"Right." You gasped and broke into more giggles. "That sounds about right."

Even if you were busy paying attention to the road, you could feel his eyes on you and see him facing you out of your peripherals. You were sure his was smiling, like usual.

"Momma's always been pretty open about sharing parts of our family life with the public so I'm sure you know about half of us were adopted, mostly the younger kids. I'm hers by blood, along with all my older siblings. But what most folks don't know is that a lot of us don't have the same father. You know how she's always called a single mother?"

"Yeah." You felt your car was still doing well and decided to take it further into town, towards the busier roads to test the brakes in the traffic.

"Men don't stick around. There's a lot of guys out there 'buying cigarettes' thanks to my mom."

"Well check that out, we have something in common."

"Indeed we do. Anyway, besides that, the family business didn't start taking off until I think I was about six or so I think, we were pretty middle class up until then. Soon as the money started pouring in though, we started living it up. Momma expanded quickly and when we were old enough, she gave us spots in the business to keep it more family owned. Even if its technically no longer considered a normal family business, we still treat it like one."

"....That's it?"

"I mean, that's the run down."

"That's almost all public information, I knew most of that."

"So you wanna know the private stuff? You're nosey." He joked.

"You're one to talk."

"How about this then, all the kiddos momma adopted were added to the family for the sake of diversity. She's always wanted a mix of kids, talking about how people should be more accepting of others differences and the need to be more open minded."

While everyone knew she had a diverse group of kids, from those of different ethnicities to ones that required more special attention to address certain handicaps, you didn't know it was because she wanted to advocate acceptance of others. That was actually unexpected and rather sweet. And here you thought she just liked kids.

"She sounds like a real saint." You responded truthfully. "Y'know, she's actually the reason I wanted to work for her company."

"How's that?"

"I can kinda relate to her, in a way I guess."

"Sounds interesting, turn left at the light." You raised an eyebrow in question but did as he requested. "I think I've earned your story now."

"Mine's not as peachy."

"The deal little miss mechanic." He chastised as he started giving you more directions.

"Okay, okay. Well, first off I don't have any siblings, my parents had me and decided that was enough."

"Shame, siblings keep life interesting."

"I wasn't even supposed to happen. They actually weren't looking to have kids and I was an accident. I don't remember exactly when, but my dad left when I was five, that's what my mom said at least. He up and left early one morning, taking a few things and leaving a note telling my mom he had a different life in mind than what he had with her."

"Sounds like he wasn't worth your time then. Kids need better parents than that."

You liked his honest opinion on the topic.

"I was angry about it when I was a little older and understood the situation better but I came to a similar conclusion at some point. He wasn't around and I decided that was probably for the better."

"So your mom raised you."

"Yep. We were partners in crime, scraping by in life together and making the best of it in the process. She taught me how to bake, like really bake, you know?"

"I do but I don't. I leave the baking to my other siblings. Katakuri and Peros are the same way."

"Should they really be in charge of those of us that do bake then?"

"There's still more to your story, don't leave me hanging."

"But should they?"

"They're experts on taste, trust me. Now keep talking."

"Hmmm," You pulled into some kind of local ice cream place and went into the drive through at Cracker's request. Of course he'd want something sweet after all that work. You couldn't blame him, ice cream sounded good right about now. "things were pretty normal until I was thirteen. One day my mom disappeared and all I could think was she pulling the same stuff my dad did. It was pretty shitty of me to assume that but I was alone and it was scary, she was all I had and I didn't want to lose her too. Police found her pretty quick though."

You frowned at the memory. It wasn't a pleasant one. You'd spent all day in a panic, worried you'd been left alone when the cops showed up at your door.

Cracker requested something and you just doubled the order, deciding whatever he wanted couldn't be all that bad and you'd give it a try yourself. He tried being polite about it but there was no avoiding the awkwardness of getting drive thru ice cream while talking about something serious.

"She'd gone to the store to get some baking stuff so we could make something together, we did that a lot. On the way back home, someone hit her car and sent it rolling. They were too much of an asshole to stick around and call the police and drove off instead. They didn't find her until hours later when a trucker drove by and saw the mess. I don't remember details, it was all a bit of a blur, but I do remember being told she would've made it if the guy had just called the police and gotten her help."

It was only more awkward when Cracker reached over you to give his card to the teen at the window. The kid seemed to feel the tension coming from your car and was quick to hand over the plastic cups overflowing with soft serve. You probably wouldn't be coming around here for a while to avoid being known as the woman who comes through talking about her dead mom. Awkward didn't even begin to describe it.

"I'm going to be honest," Cracker broke the silence as you got back on the road. "I don't know what to do with that information."

You started chuckling and it soon bubbled up into laughter. He looked so uncomfortable with it all and you couldn't help but laugh. His brows were furrowed together worriedly, like he was afraid saying the wrong thing would lead to you bursting into tears at any second. He probably thought you were weird for reacting how you were, that is if he didn't think you were before.

"I'm sorry." You gasped. "I-I just, you look so sincere."

"So you're joking about your mom being dead?"

"No, she is." You took a deep breath to calm yourself and continued. "That all really happened but it's been a good fifteen years since then. It was awful and I wish things were different but there's no point in wishing for something else all the time when I could be living my life to the fullest. There's moments when I really miss her but I don't spend my days moping."

"You're a strangely optimistic one."

"It's not strange."

He pointed at your ice cream, melting slowly in your cup holder. "You should eat that before I do."

It was nice to see the tension had left. You picked up the cup and gave it a quick lick before you had to put it down and shift gears. Some days driving manual wasn't the best, though some would argue if it kept you focused on the road it couldn't be a bad thing.

"I totally wasn't paying attention when we got that, what flavor is that supposed to be?"

"Huckleberry."

"That's fucking good."

"Best place in the city. Not to sound like I'm rushing you or being insensitive, but how does any of this relate to my mom?"

"Well, after my mom passed, I spent a lot of time bouncing around foster homes like she did. I was too much of a moody handful for every family I came across. I couldn't find the want to bake for a few years after her death but I came across an article about your mom's early years eventually. I wasn't even looking for anything like it but it just kinda popped up while I was surfing the internet, you know, as moody teenagers do. And.....I dunno, I read it out of boredom and I felt I could relate. She couldn't find her home, I couldn't find mine, but she decided to make something of herself despite her background."

You stared at the man sitting beside you for just a second. His hair was falling out of the messy bun and he had to fight to keep it out off the ice cream he was quickly finishing while yours was still melting. You'd never seen a grown man have such a weird mix of childlike and adult behavior. It was like he understood you didn't have to be a boring asshole just because you were an adult. Something about that made you feel a little warm inside. You liked him.

"I figured if she could better herself, I could too. I snapped out of my funk and got back to baking more often, got a job, moved out on my own, and decided to go to school with the goal of working for her. And now here I am, driving her man child around for ice cream after he insisted on fixing my car."

"Man child my ass." He scoffed and picked up your ice cream, licking along the sides to keep it from melting over.

"Hey! That's mine!"

"You were too slow." He snickered as you leaned over to snatch it from him.

"I can't drive and eat it at the same time!"

"Sucks to suck."

"I drove you and everything!"

"I paid for it."

You let out a disappointed huff as he licked all around it, effectively claiming it as his. He watched you the whole time, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"How about I drive next time? Then you won't have to worry about it melting." He chuckled at your frown.

"You gotta tell me more Charlotte secrets too."

"What do I get out of that?"

"Easy, my company."

"Hmmm, I guess that works."

Apparently that was good enough for him. Maybe hanging out with you did more than get him away from his pestering siblings. You couldn't be sure but maybe this relationship had turned into some kind of warped friendship. Either way, you didn't mind.

(A/n)
Aight, this isn't the first time I've done the whole dead parent angst thing so this is me making a note to not make it more of a habit than it already is. I was originally planning on doing this, then decided I've already done that and it'd be silly to do it again in another story (and this is the second Cracker story with it omg I need to stop) so I'm going to make sure I'm more creative with backstory in the future. I wanted to change it up but found the way I worded things in the first chapter prevented me from doing so. I'd basically screwed myself over, sorry my dudes, I'll do better in the future.