AN: Welcome to my alternates of the different arcs I have going in Life's Highway!

I had to do this one first...

Sally enjoyed sitting up in the pit box with Doc during races. On hot summer days it was a nice shaded place to take in the race, she didn't need to squint or make sure she was reapplying sunscreen every hour. She'd bring a small folding stool with her and sit to Doc's left. She could always tell how a race was going by listening to the one sided conversation as Doc spoke into the headset, most often, though, it was his body language. She wasn't always in the pit box, sometimes she would stay down with Mater or even some of the other driver's girlfriends or wives. She'd look up into the pit box, and if Doc was leaned back in the crew chief's chair, usually with one or both feet propped up against the safety bar, she knew it was smooth sailing. If he was standing, she knew Lightning either needed to make a move or was heading for trouble, and if he was holding onto one of the support bars, she knew to stay out of the way.

He'd been doing a lot of standing lately.

She sighed from where she sat on her #95 red and black stool and watched the placings change as the #2.0 IGNTR came around the turn, taking a huge amount of ground away from the rest of the field. She didn't need to look up to know that Doc had run a hand over his face in frustration and rolled his neck tiredly before sitting in the chair beside her.

Sometimes when he spoke, she'd forget he was speaking to Lightning and not her.

"Stop staring at his bumper and get around him."

There was a pause, she could only imagine Lightning's comment.

"That's because he's found his line. You've been all over the place this entire race."

She sighed, watching the #95.

"There's nothing wrong with drafting."

She smirked, having heard that conversation before.

"Kiddo this is just the way it is now."

Sally looked up at Doc, the floodlights of the night race shining brightly behind them in the infield. He caught her expression from the corner of his eye and only shook his head subtly.

Removing the headset briefly he said, "Kid's gotta learn he's not the hottest thing out there anymore."

He continued to pass along his observations through the radio and Sally was encouraged to see the red #95 regaining some ground, slowly but surely. She leaned forward to see them better coming around the turn, knowing there weren't too many laps to go and was startled when Doc jumped up out of the crew chief's seat, holding onto the support beam with white knuckles. She looked up at him in confusion before looking back toward the track. He must have noticed something she couldn't even dream of picking up.

That's when #95 spun out in one of the worst accident's since The King's last race.

Sally had stood, hands over her mouth as the car slid across the pavement, finally coming to a stop. She looked toward Doc with wide eyes to see that he'd paled considerably, his jaw set as he turned to leave the pit box.

The scene was surreal, she climbed down from their platform carefully, after he had practically jumped from the fourth step up and hit the pavement at a jog to join an official that was already heading toward the scene.

He still wore the headset, and Sally watched with trepidation from where she stood with the others as he paused and relayed some message to the official and the ambulance flew by behind them. She couldn't read lips, but she desperately wished she could.

"Look, Jesse, I know you're his crew chief but you can't-" The official said as he jogged beside him, yelling over the siren.

"The hell I can't." He snapped, stopping and rounding on the man. "I am sick and tired of you people deciding what I can and can't do."

The official had shut up after that.

Doc moved the mic to the headset back toward his mouth, hoping the radio was still intact. "You hear me, Hot Rod?"

He was relieved to hear Lightning's voice, even for as frightened as he sounded.

"Doc?"

"We're coming, Kiddo, just hold tight."

He pulled the headset off and let it fall around his neck as they reached the inside wall. The car lay on it's side, debris and jagged pieces of metal lay scattered across the track and Doc was startled to see what appeared to be fuel puddled beneath what was left of the #95.

They had to get him out of there.

Hearing Lightning's voice again through the headset, he put a headphone to his ear.

"I can't move my arm."

Any number of horrible scenarios played out in Doc's mind as he was just barely able to see the kid through the spiderweb cracks of the windshield. He could really only get so close if medical crews were going to be able to do their job. He wasn't even supposed to be where he was.

Spinal cord injury was the first thing that came to mind, maybe a head injury but unlikely. He shoved the wave of panic aside and replied.

"Then stop trying, you could make it worse. Sit still- I said sit still!"

He could see the nylon webbing in the window being undone and Lightning's helmet peek out of the opening.

Well if he was able to get himself around that well, it couldn't be that serious.

But in '54 Doc had gotten himself completely out of his own car and had walked a full ten feet before collapsing in the sand.

"Why can't you ever listen?"

"Learned from the best..." Came the tired response over the radio.

Doc muttered through his teeth.

They'd brought Lightning over to the wall while the crew brought the gurney out. The official he'd snapped at spoke to him but he was too preoccupied with speaking to Lightning. He leaned over the half wall and was able to do somewhat of his own assessment as Lightning looked back up at him, albeit upside down. He was dazed and pale, his hair matted and damp against his forehead. Doc was relieved to see that it was only a dislocated shoulder.

"Only dislocated? Only?" Lightning looked up at him in alarm.

"Could be a lot worse."

He was concerned, however, with how hard Lightning was breathing, and debated mentioning it to the crew preparing the gurney. If he mentioned shock, they'd be able to prevent it, but on the other hand it could cause Lightning to panic and expediate the possible onset.

And none of them seemed to be paying him any mind.

Typical.

He leaned over the wall and spoke as calmly as possible to the kid.

"Hot Rod. Hey, Kiddo..."

Lightning looked up at him in a daze.

"We're going to meet you at the hospital-"

"You're not coming with me?"

"I can't. We'll meet you there. Just do something for me."

"Ok?"

"You need to take deep breaths." He looked him over quickly from where he was. "Does your chest hurt?"

"A little, but not that bad..."

"Alright...whenever you feel like you're starting to breathe too fast, I need you to hold your breath a few seconds, then breathe in for five and out for seven. Got it?"

"In five out seven. Ok- why?"

"Just do it."

He could already see Lightning getting himself worked up again as the medical crew surrounded him and went to move him to the gurney. Doc felt his teeth clamp together painfully at the shout of pain as someone must have moved the kid's arm or done something wrong. Before he completely jumped the concrete barrier, he turned back toward Pit Row. The last thing they needed was to make a scene that would surely throw Lightning into some form of cardiac arrest.

He stalked back toward their pit space, yanking the headset from around his neck and barking at the official that had been out to the crash scene with him. "What was the hospital name?"

"I gave the address to Miss Carrera-"

"Let's go, Sally."

She shouldered her bag and walked beside him, sending a glance back to the official.

The entire crew made the trip to the hospital in a mockery of the caravan they usually arrived to races in. Taking up the first five parking spaces near the emergency room entrance and filling up the waiting room quickly, The Radiator Springs crew settled in for a long night.

He found the most comfortable chair available and offered it to Sally, who thanked him quietly and collapsed into it, pulling Lighting's phone from her bag. Doc watched her for a brief moment as she started replying to texts and patted her shoulder before going in search of coffee.

It was disgusting, but it was caffeine and he'd been up since 5 AM.

This hospital really needed to figure out how to coordinate their amenities. He didn't want to be walking halfway across the facility a dozen times.

Sally had beaten him to telling Mater to stop pacing, he himself had to make a conscious effort not to pace back and forth through the waiting room. He passed other people waiting to hear of their family member's condition on his second trip for coffee. The halls were strangely quiet, his footsteps echoing eerily down the corridor and the waxed green tiles of the floor reflected every move he made in the harsh florescent lights.

Doc hated hospitals, he never really understood why he ended up with a medical degree.

Upon his return to the waiting room, Sally looked up at him questioningly from the phone in her hand.

"What's shock?"

"What?"

"The nurse..." She gestured down the hall in the direction the woman had left. "She said his blood pressure dropped in the ambulance on the way here? Lighting's friend said they may be treating him for shock, it might be why we've been waiting so long..."

His mind went blank for a moment, staring down at her.

He should have told them.

Internal bleeding? Hyperventilation? What was going on?

"Did she say anything else?"

"No." Sally shook her head. "What is it? What's shock?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If his blood pressure dropped then they're most likely concerned over oxygen levels and just trying to get the heart rate back up."

He offered an encouraging grin, squeezing her shoulder. "He'll be fine, Sally."

"Where are you going?"

"Just a walk, need to stretch my legs." He pulled his phone from his pocket. "Call if there's any change."

She nodded, but considered him with concern. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'll be back in a few."

"Ok..." She looked back at the phone in her hand, nodding once again.

As soon as he made it out the ER entrance doors, he let his back thud against the wall roughly as he reached into his shirt pocket for the old brass Zippo and the pack of cigarettes. He'd cut back considerably, specifically on Lightning's request, but, well...

"Sir?"

He glanced up to see a nurse coming in on her shift, and the look he gave her killed any comment she'd been about to make. She clamped her mouth shut nervously and pointed at the No Smoking sign over his shoulder.

Staring at the place she'd been standing, he let the Zippo close with a click before looking up to see a gazebo on the border of the parking lot. A blue smoking area sign was zip tied to the railing.

Luckily it was empty. At this hour he would hope it was empty.

Doc set the paper cup of coffee down, slid onto the bench under the table and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He leaned back with a sigh and fished the Zippo out of his pocket again, staring through the darkness back toward the ER doors. The phone he'd thrown on the picnic table lit up before it began ringing and he jumped violently, nearly knocking the cup of coffee over. He held the phone up to see who was calling and sighed before tapping the green answer button.

"Nearly lost my coffee thanks to you."

"I'm sure there's plenty where you are."

"You saw?"

"Why else would I be calling?"

"I dunno, to see what your brother's doing at 12:30 AM?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, Smokey must have been multitasking. "It's all over the news, mostly speculation. I figured going to the source would save time."

And to check on you, was the underlying statement.

"They haven't told us much."

"Sounds familiar."

Doc grimaced at the now cold coffee, tossing it over the railing of the gazebo before returning the cup to the table and using it as an ashtray.

"Kid's gunna be the death of me."

"That sounds familiar too."

There were long stretches of silence between the two, unresolved hurts spanning the gap that couldn't and shouldn't be dealt with over the phone. Some things had to be dealt with face to face. Doc was just comforted in the fact that back in Thomasville, his brother was also sitting on the phone, most likely flipping through the news stations or maybe even just staring at a black screen. Whatever he was doing, he was at least present.

"Hey, I-" His phone chimed and he pulled it away from his ear to look at the screen. It was 2:30? How long had he been sitting out there?

He blinked, eyes adjusting to the lit screen.

Hot Rod
1 Unread Message

Hot Rod (2:28 AM)
Where are you?

He stood, crushing the cup in his hand and gathering his things. "Sorry, Henry, I gotta go. They're letting us back."

"Go. Let me know when you can."

He hung up the phone as he entered the building again.