A one-shot detailing Lightning's recovery from his crash, starting with him lying on the track immediately after. Basically, this'll pick up right where Disaster's Peak left off. Only a little of what I'm about to write will have come from the trailers. Also, I'm completely making most of this up as I go, because I don't know if the cars feel pain the same way we do, or if they can be... fixed, I guess with... surgery..? This world is very confusing if you really think about it... WARNING, POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR CARS 3. Hope you enjoy, because this is a longer one-shot than usual! ;)

In the grandstands, all sounds had died off. Every audience member, young and old, was staring in disbelief at the scene before them. Even the longtime race fans didn't know what to make of the situation. The legendary number 95 had just wrecked, and he was unnervingly still. It didn't appear as though he was going to be driving again.

Within thirty seconds of Lightning McQueen's horrific crash, an ambulance, two police cruisers, two race medics, and four race officials were surrounding him. Lightning's body was badly dented up, his spoiler had ripped almost all the way off, several long gashes ran along his sides, smoke was creeping out from under his cracked hood. And that was just the superficial damage. It was impossible to tell at that point what else may have been damaged inside him.

The race officials and medics recorded as much information regarding Lightning and the accident that had just occurred as they could, and then they all drove quickly off to inform the on-grounds hospital tent that a wrecked vehicle would be coming in. Meanwhile, the damaged race car was loaded carefully into the ambulance, and police cruisers escorted the ambulance to the tent.

Lightning had hit the ground several times in his roll across the track. When they reached the large white tent, the medics jumped into action, taking Lightning inside the building and fully sedating him. A few scans were performed on him, revealing cracked pipes, a spark knock, and even a blown head gasket. Some other minor damage had taken place as well; almost every bit of machinery had been jarred, but most of it wouldn't cause too many problems. The main issue was definitely the primary gasket; it was what was causing Lightning's engine to overheat and was resulting in all of the smoke that was still streaming from beneath his hood. Having fully assessed him, the medics set to work.

Five hours later, the medics had stabilized Lightning, and he'd shown signs of waking up. By this time, Lightning's pit crew had been waiting outside for almost as long. The head of the medical crew had decided it would be alright to transport Lightning to a regular hospital about a half hour away. The racing grounds' hospital tent was pretty high tech, but they couldn't fix everything. One of the staff members was making arrangements for a helicopter to come for Mr. McQueen when she heard him move behind her. Eagerly she turned around, and watched the racer slowly open his eyes.

"Sir?" He winced, but looked at her. He was still half passed out, and there was no guarantee he'd even remember waking up later on. "I'm going to ask you some questions, alright?" Lightning shut his eyes again, but nodded slightly.

"What's your name?" She asked him, wanting to be sure he hadn't hit his hood too hard.

"Lightning McQueen." He looked around the room, only moving his eyes.

"What's the last thing you remember?" The racer suddenly looked horrified.

"Storm! I- I wrecked.." Mr. McQueen looked devastated. He gently shook his hood, maybe in disbelief. Finally he looked up again. "Where's my pit crew?" He asked, with a bit of energy coming back into his voice.

"Oh, they're here. They have been for the last several hours, waiting for any news." The forklift answered.

"Can I see them? Sally or Mater, at least?" Mr. McQueen looked pretty desperate to see a familiar face. And who could blame him, with the situation he'd just awoken to?

"Of course. I'll send them in," she answered, and left the tiny room to greet the five vehicles waiting outside. "He's awake," the forklift reported happily. Everyone brightened at the news, Sally and Mater especially so. "One or two of you guys can go see him, if you want. Don't stay too long though, we have to move him right away." The forklift left the group to discuss who should see Lightning. It didn't take long; Sally was the obvious choice.

"Stickers?" She called softly upon entering Lightning's room. He shifted to look at her, wincing at the movement.

"Sally! You have no idea how happy I am to see you!" His voice shook a little and he sighed, some of the tension leaving his dented up body. Sally shut her eyes briefly, remembering seeing him flip end over end out on the track, skidding across the pavement with bits of aluminum flying and the sound of screeching metal.. she shook herself out of the memory. He was here, he was fine.

"All of us were so happy to hear that you'd woken up," she drove closer to where Lightning sat parked. "How do you feel now?"

"Well.." The race car hesitated before answering. "I don't feel a lot right now, actually. I don't know if they gave me something, or if I'm just numb from shock, but there's only a bit of general aching. I'm physically exhausted, too, I guess.." Sally nodded.

"That's to be expected." She murmured. A few more minutes passed, and the two cars sat in silence. Finally the forklift was back, and she had Sally leave the room. The helicopter had shown up; and it was time to move Lightning to a real hospital so he could begin his recovery.

The next week and a half was extremely chaotic. Almost immediately after Lightning had been relocated, the paparazzi showed up. They wanted to know if he was alive, if he would drive again, if he'd be returning to racing, how badly he'd been damaged, if he had anything to say; the list of questions was unending. Hospital staff and even a few police officers kept the nosy reporters and overenthusiastic fans at bay, but they were persistent. For the week and a half that Lightning was undergoing some major surgeries and operations, they stayed. Finally, he was discharged from the hospital. Lightning had been fixed up to the best of the hospital staff's abilities and just needed to rest and recover. After having been so dented up, the racer had been painted over with body filler. The once brilliant red vehicle was now a dull gray hue.

On the day he was released, the hospital staff made some special allowances, and he was let out one of the ambulance exits to avoid the throngs of cars just waiting to get a peek at Lightning after nearly two weeks of no news. Luckily, Mack was waiting for Lightning in exactly the right spot, and Lightning was able to get inside his trailer without being spotted. As Mack drove out of the huge lot, the crowd caught sight of the trailer, but it was too late for them to catch up. Mack had already merged onto the freeway, and was taking the famous race car home.

"Hey Lightning?" Mack asked as he drove along. "We're leaving Nevada. You'll be home by tomorrow morning, if we drive through the night." He told his boss.

"Okay." Came the sullen voice through Mack's headset. "If you're sure. Thanks, Mack." Lightning had been uncharacteristically quiet and still throughout the two hours of driving that had taken place so far. A few times, the semi had tried to get him to talk, even a little, but it was clear he wasn't in the mood. So Mack left him alone. He's just tired, Mack told himself.

At around four in the morning, they finally crossed the border between New Mexico and Texas. Radiator Springs was only another hour or so away. Lightning had fallen asleep long ago in the trailer, and he was still dead to the world. Mack himself was having trouble staying alert, and his eyelids kept drooping slightly. Before long, the sky began to lighten as the sun rose over the horizon. The roads and surrounding desert became more and more familiar, until finally the semi drove past the sign that welcomed all into Radiator Springs.

"Lightning." Mack said, repeating himself a few times before he heard the racer shifting around.

"We're back in Texas?" He asked, a bit of excitement entering his voice.

"You betcha, pal. Radiator Springs is coming up fast."

"It'll be so good to be home." Lightning's sigh was content for the first time in a while. Mack was glad to hear the shift in his friend's mood. A few more minutes passed, and then Mack was backing into town. Lightning's pit crew members were already there, waiting to see him again, and provide any help that was needed. As the ramp lowered, Lightning inhaled and gingerly drove down to his crew.

"Hey." He croaked. Sally, Mater and Sarge all replied with a greeting, however, Luigi and Guido's response was to speed up beside him, looking at all the shallow dents and abrasions on Lightning's sides. "Woah, what are you doing?" Lightning asked, edging away from them. Guido was muttering something unintelligible in Italian, and Luigi was trying to converse with him, but kept getting cut off. The word "no" was coming up a lot on both ends of the conversation.

"Give him some space!" Sarge snapped, and the two little Italian cars immediately backed off, with Luigi shooting Guido a dirty look. Having settled that issue, the old military jeep turned back to the race car. "We figured you might want to be away from the press, so we have some new arrangements for you, outside of town." He said somewhat flatly.

"Out of town?"

"It's not far." Sally put in quickly. "We just thought it might be best if you stayed in the old garage for a week or two while you recuperate, but it's up to you." About a half mile out of town, there was an ancient barn that had once served as Radiator Springs' garage. It had been unoperated, of course, but that was before Doc had come to town and set up his own clinic in one of the unoccupied buildings.

"Yeah, I'll move out there for a bit." Lightning agreed. He knew that Sarge was right about the press, who would surely flood the town by the next morning at best. Maybe if he was in the garage, they wouldn't be able to locate him. Besides, Lightning was too weary to argue. "Thanks, guys."

"It was no problem." Mater promised his best friend as the three of them drove along one of the back roads leading into the desert. Sarge, Luigi, and Guido had stayed back. "We moved some of yer stuff out there so it wouldn't be quite so lonesome, y'know?" Mater continued as they drove up to the barn.

"Wow. You guys really thought of everything."

"Well, we tried to, anyway." Sally said. "It would be nice if we didn't have to worry about this kind of thing at all- reporters, I mean." She nudged open the doors and followed Mater and Lightning inside. In the previous days, various residents of the town had helped to clean up the ancient building, and it was surprisingly dust-free. Photos resided on the walls, and upon seeing them Lightning stopped and inhaled sharply. He felt Mater and Sally drive up on either side of him.

"You don't mind, do you? That we moved these out here?" Mater asked softly as the three of them gazed up at the pictures of various cars. The one that was holding Lightning's attention was a framed picture of himself kicking up clouds of dust, racing side by side with an elderly blue Hudson Hornet.

"No." Lightning whispered. His voice returning to normal, he repeated himself. "No, I don't mind at all." He reversed and looked around briefly before turning back to Sally and Mater. "You guys have been so helpful." He told them, fighting off fatigue.

"We'll leave you alone now. You're probably exhausted." Sally said, looking at Mater and flicking her eyes towards the doors. Lightning nodded.

"Yeah. I.." he trailed off, shaking his hood slightly. "Thanks for everything, guys." He said despondently.

"You're welcome, Stickers." Sally said with a slight smile, but Lightning didn't react. He'd already closed his eyes. "Come on, Mater." She led the tow truck out of the barn, shutting the doors behind them. Lightning opened his eyes again and watched them drive back to town through a window. With a look of despair on his face, he drove slowly over to the group of photos again. For a long time he stared at the picture of himself racing with Doc. His old mentor himself had once suffered a crash, and it had been the end of the Fabulous Hudson Hornet's racing career. A sense of foreboding overcame Lightning. What if the same thing happened to him? Would he be kicked out of the racing world and replaced with the next best rookie, just as Doc had? The question that was bothering him the most at the moment was, what would Doc say if he were here?

"I'm so sorry, Doc." Lightning said aloud, his voice cracking a little. His vision became slightly blurred at the edges as he backed away, parked, and closed his eyes again.

Over the next several days, Sally, and sometimes Mater, visited Lightning in the old garage. Gradually the racer's feelings of hopelessness turned to frustration. Lightning had been keeping up with the news of the racing world, and his name came up fairly often. Cars hadn't stopped asking questions. There was so much they wanted to know. Meanwhile, the other rookies in the league were stacking up their points, and fast. Lightning had definitely begun his recovery, and Ramone had even redone his old paint job, but he still wasn't feeling like himself. Lightning had found out the hard way that the crash had really taken its toll on him- he couldn't go nearly as fast as he'd been able to just three weeks ago. Of course, it didn't stop him from trying. Despite warnings from several cars, Lightning drove down to Willy's Butte every day he was feeling up to it and tried to rebuild some of the endurance and speed he'd once possessed. It was extremely slow going, but eventually, the training did begin to pay off. It wasn't working nearly fast enough, though. One night, after Lightning had returned to the garage after a long day of pushing himself to his limits, he received a call from a number he immediately recognized. Warily he answered.

"Is this Lightning McQueen?" The voice was unfamiliar, but it shouldn't have been.

"Yeah, you've reached me."

"Excellent!" The voice went on. "My name is Leo Sterling, I manage the Rust-Eze Racing Centre. I was sorry to hear about your crash, but I assume you've nearly recovered by now?"

"Um.." Lightning was caught off guard by the question, and he stuttered. "Uh, yes, I'm doing much better now."

"Glad to hear it, Mr. McQueen. Now, I realize that you mustn't have been home long, but would you be willing to make the trip here to Dallas? There are some things I'd like to discuss with you." Again, Lightning was shocked at Sterling's proposal, but it sounded important.

"Oh, I think I can manage that." He said. "When do you want me there?"

"It's not extremely urgent, but it might be best if you arrived within the next three days or so." Sterling's voice remained smooth the entire time he was speaking.

"I'll have to talk to my hauler, but I'll be there as soon as I can be." Lightning promised.

"Great. I hope to meet you soon. Thank you for your time, Mr. McQueen."

"No problem. Thank you for the call." There was a click as the line went dead. Lightning sighed. Maybe Sterling wanted to discuss racing tactics to get him back in the game. He didn't want to think too hard about why else he might be heading to Dallas in the next day or two. Checking the time, Lightning dialled Mack's number.

"How do you feel about a short little road trip?" Lightning asked as Mack picked up. Briefly he explained what had just happened, and Mack agreed right away to travel to Dallas. Even better, they could leave the next day. So when the sun rose the next morning, Lightning was saying goodbye to his pit crew and a few other cars. They all seemed to be kind of on edge. Lightning himself was nervous, but he tried to ignore it. Sterling was the manager of the company that was sponsoring him; why would he want anything but to help him get back out on the track?

"I'll talk to you tonight if I get the chance." He promised Sally.

"What about me?" Mater asked anxiously. Lightning couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes in a good natured way.

"Yeah, you too, Mater. I haven't forgotten you." He turned back to Sally, but made sure Mater could hear him as well. "I should be back here within a week at the latest. Dallas is only a few hours away, anyways."

"Okay. We'll see you whenever. Goodbye, and good luck. I love you." A real smile came onto Lightning's face as Sally spoke.

"Thanks. Love you too." With those last words, Lightning drove up into his trailer. As the ramp closed up behind him, he heard Mack saying his own goodbyes. Within minutes they were in motion, and Lightning decided to watch some more news. He again wondered if cars had begun to move on from his crash yet. For once, it took a while for the sports cars to even mention him, but when they did, it shocked him. The heading on the screen read Will Lightning McQueen retire?

"What?!" He blurted out loud.

"You okay?" Mack's voice came from the overhead speakers.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Lightning said, still gaping at the headline. "Cars are asking if I'm going to retire!" Lightning spat. "Of course I'm not going to step down." He kept watching as a statistician took over on screen. Natalie Certain was explaining how the younger, faster cars of the next generation were breaking onto the leaderboards and easily taking the top spots. A few of the older cars on the circuit that Lightning had become friends with over the years had retired, making room for even more rookies. The racing world was changing faster than ever. Lightning shut the tv off.

"I decide when I'm done." He growled. The crash was just a setback, that's all. There was no way it was going to keep him from racing. Nothing would.

Four hours later, Mack and Lightning were in Dallas. The Rust-Eze Racing Centre had changed drastically in the seventeen years since Lightning had first been sponsored by the company. Once a rickety old trailer full of rusty old cars, it was now a sprawling complex with both indoor and outdoor practice tracks. The building had at least two floors, and the walls were all glass. Lightning couldn't help but be in awe as he drove through the campus. When he entered the building, a familiar voice called his name.

"Hey, there he is!" An ancient, rusty looking Dodge A100 drove over, quickly followed by a similar looking Dodge Dart.

"How've you been, Lightning?" Rusty asked, driving in front of his brother to greet their star racer.

"Well, I've had some ups and downs in the last little while." Lightning said with a hint of sarcasm.

"What do you think of the new place? Pretty high tech, eh?" Dusty drove out from behind Rusty to get his chance to speak with Lightning.

"Are you kidding? It's amazing!" Lightning enthused. "This is an enormous improvement from the old Rust-Eze Racing Centre!"

"That wasn't even a building. It was an old trailer!" Dusty chuckled.

"So what brings you here? New training plan?" Rusty cut in, still trying to one-up his brother.

"I hope so." Lightning began. "Last night I got a call from Mr. Sterling. He asked me to come here." Lightning paused. "He said he was the manager now. Did you two sell the company?"

"Yeah." Rusty muttered, shuffling his tires. "He took over and refined every aspect of the company. We didn't want to sell, but the offer was too good to refuse. Besides, he's done a superb job so far. He was the car for the job, that's for sure." Rusty went on.

"Based on what I saw on the way in, I'd have to agree with you." Lightning nodded. "Anyway, I should probably go meet with him now. Do you know where he is?"

"Sure. Last I saw, he was in his office, in that direction." Dusty nodded towards a set of one-way glass walls that cordoned off a row of cubicles.

"Alright. It was nice catching up. Thanks, guys." Lightning went off towards the offices, reading the plates outside each one as he went along. Before he could find the right one, a voice behind him made him jump.

"Mr. McQueen! Just the car I wanted to see!" Lightning whipped around to see a silver Cadillac smiling warmly at him. The caddy extended a tire. "Sterling." He introduced himself.

"Oh. Yes!" Lightning grinned. "So you're the one who is responsible for all of the improvements. You've really made some astounding progress with the company!"

"Thank you. It wasn't as difficult as it might seem, though." Mr. Sterling replied modestly. "Now, let's take a drive." He began to lead Lightning around, showing him all of the new features of the racing centre, ending with the new training facilities. There were some innovative new training techniques that were being tested and utilized. Sterling eagerly explained all of them, and at the end of the tour, the two vehicles were back in the building's lobby. His warm smile fading, Sterling turned to the race car.

"Listen, Lightning. The reason I asked you to come here is to discuss some marketing tactics." He began. "You've just recovered from a near fatal crash, and you're huge news at the moment. If we play this right, there could be some major profits and advancements for a lot of cars. Think about it: if you were to branch out from racing, you could be signing contracts for movie deals, infomercials, product endorsements, the list could go on and on." Sterling rolled his eyes for emphasis, and Lightning began to feel nervous again. Where was this conversation heading?

"Mr. Sterling, what is this about?" Lightning asked, dreading the answer.

"Your legacy." The caddy said without missing a beat. He waited until he'd made eye contact with Lightning to continue. "At the moment, you have an unprecedented status, in terms of wins. You're a living legend, but that image may be tarnished if you continue racing; because every time you lose, you damage yourself." He warned. "I'm sorry. Your racing days are coming to an end." Lightning tried to speak, but couldn't find the words.

"I realize that quitting the sport will be hard for you, and I can't force you to do anything. All I can do is give you the facts, and tell you what I think is the best route to take." He continued. Finally, Lightning was able to get over his shock.

"I can't do that. I can't quit just yet, Mr. Sterling." He said, trying not to sound desperate. Sterling said nothing, but nodded for Lightning to continue. "I'll be the first to admit that I haven't been at the top of my game for a while, but that doesn't mean I can't make a comeback. I really believe that I have a chance at winning the Piston Cup this year. If not the Cup, then a few more races at least. Please, give me a chance to try again." For a long few seconds, Sterling remained silent, obviously thinking this over.

"You know what? If you feel that way, then I won't be the one to stop you. I do think you still have it in you to win one more time, but it won't be easy. I still think retirement is a better option at this point, but I'm not going to hold you back." Sterling conceded. Lightning's hopes began to rise.

"The Rust-Eze company will continue to sponsor you." Sterling told Lightning amiably. "If you're going to race again, though, you'll do it on my terms."

Hey guys! So my headcanon from this point is that Sterling would hire a personal trainer for Lightning (Cruz Ramirez), and she'd get Lightning whipped into shape for the Florida 500. From there, all of the other story elements would come into play, such as the demolition derby, Jackson Storm setting a new lap record, meeting Doc's old racing buddies.. and so on and so forth.

Hope you enjoyed this! Three weeks until Cars 3 is in theatres! I'm SUPER pumped about that. This will be the last Cars 3 one-shot I wrote until the movie comes out. See you next Friday!

P.S: Any suggestions?