COGITATION

Written by: MOONY
Written on: 08/20/2017
Chapter 1 Revised on: 08/28/17

A/N: I never knew I'd like cars this much and it raises so many questions about its universe but anyways here's my edgy ass bringing anther fanfic. I'm supposedly going to make this a oneshot but a really long one—I'm bad as fuck with multi chapter stories but since it is long, I might just post a part of it that looks like a chapter one to see if you guys are interested in it.

A quick overview of this literary work:

1. Lightning McQueen is currently at the age of 28. For those who have read the first version of this chapter knows that in this story, Lightning was supposed to be 39 which was, personally, far more suited for the timeline set equivalent to the original Cars timeline, however since it's in human years I could not possibly imagine his parents alive and kicking ass at the age of 60 or more. Thus, I have aged down Lightning in order to give his parents a bit more appropriate age.

2. Sally Carrera, I presume, would be around her mid twenties—in this work she would be around 23. I cannot prove that that age is appropriate for her since law school demand more education years and in addition to that, there has to be years and years in between since she met Lightning which was the barren age of Radiator Springs. Again, I am simply putting an age with an appearance akin to it in human age equivalent, if they were cars they'd be much older as they age most likely slower than ever.

*The timeline is wrong in a sense as Route 66 went barren for years considering that ages between humans and cars do not connect. However, I could not find another analogy to describe their ages—or the age/time gap. (I mean, Doc is dead but his trainer isn't, how cool is that). So all in all, In Human Years equivalent, their age group would be around their thirties as this is post Cars 3 (and everything).

3. This takes place after the movies (1, 2, and 3). I am not knowledgeable of other universes of this franchise as I have focused solely on the movies. All other mentions of this universe are purely out of my headcanons and imagination.

4. They will be humanized as my weeaboo ass can't survive writing mechanical beings, I'd die before I know another word for engines and car doors. Honestly, if I could write better in a mechanical analogy way—I would've but I can't.

5. Doc is alive in here because my weak ass heart is indenial that he's dead.

6. Any resemblance of situations, names, places in this work are pure coincidental and/or used for fictional purposes. The Cars franchise does not belong to me and it belongs purely to the creators of cars, Pixar and Co. This literary work is solely made for entertainment and in no way do I use this work for commercial purposes.

TRIGGER WARNING: VULGAR LANGUAGE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, DRUG AND ALCOHOL USE, CHEATING, DIVORCE, ADULTERY, NONCONSENSUAL SEX, MURDER, BLOOD AND VIOLENCE. (for the whole story, not just this chapter so some triggers may not appear now but be warned for future chapters)

CHAPTER ONE: Resurfacing.

"Hey, um—Stickers? You've got mail…," It wasn't the usual bored tone, often she'd stack letters addressed to her love on his table—they've agreed that fan letters would have their time sometime a day, but not right now and that Sally need not to call him once the mail comes however it was odd that she called his attention for this parcel. Not only that, it was odd the usual morning mail came by late afternoon.

A raise of McQueen's brow as he scoots close with his newly bought roller skates, he could swear he heard his love sigh and roll her eyes at the sound of the wheels rolling on the wooden ground. "Whose is it from? Does it say anything?" Calloused hands run through fiery, crimson locks as his free arm wraps around Sally's waist, nose burying in her baby blue locks.

She fumbles around the box, looking at the bottom and top and at the sides however there were nothing written from where it came from. Even McQueen looked at the box, thinking maybe Sally overlooked a really tiny handwriting, however that was not the case. They exchanged glances before settling themselves on the lounge where they sat side by side on the brown, woolen couch that positioned parallel to a flat screen 27" inch television. Sally hands him the package, knowing it'd be rude if it was her who opened his mail—McQueen then accepts it and though hesitantly, he unwraps the tie and rips apart the paper wrapper.

The box was dyed in a simple white, as if the paper had just be re-used, McQueen was not exactly picky with his gifts but this was suspicious. The concern and trepidation were evident on both of their eyes, though much more on Sally's part. They've received a good amount of hate letters every now and then—but nothing of this sort.

However, again that was not the case, once McQueen lifts up the cover, only pictures of him as a child were scatted all over with a simple card on top saying—"I found you."

Sally's eyes widened, though it softened at the sight of a young, innocent boy playing around the park—splashing in the oceans, fighting the small waves and throwing the starfishes back into the waters once the tide went low. "Is that … you? You were so cute…," There were many other photographs that she never knew she would've seen but when she tried to reach out to it, the box fell from McQueen's lap as he stood up without any logical thought. Anxiety and fear wells up in his heart as the dread was evident upon his trembling fingers and uneasy breathing.

"L … Lightning—?" Concern overwhelms her as she stands up hoping to calm his anxiety, although he slaps her hand away—eyes wide as if what he was seeing was not her. His complexion pale and his figure as akin to a child's terrified body.

He dashes out of their house, hoping to find some peace and quiet somewhere far away but the worst timing came when his best friend approached him.

"Gee—you look constipated? Did 'ya and Sally get in'ta 'nother f'ght?" There was of course worry in his tone, but for the most part it was a joke. McQueen had no time to joke around, he ignored his best friend's presence and moved along which earned a curious eye on other residents such as Flo and Ramone who witnessed it closer.

"Mnm, somethin's up with hotshot…," though Flo's usual cool aura was evident—it was obvious there was uncertainty along with Ramone's poker face expression has turned into a frown.

Sally then was the next to go out of the house, sweat dripping from her forehead as she faces her friends, "have you seen Lightning?" her voice, hoarse—as she had screamed his name again and again before he had dashed out of their house.

They exchanged glances, knowingly that if Sally called the other by his actual name, it meant there was something really going on.

"He suddenly just dashed off, I couldn't chase him—even for a racer he's fast without a car!" though he tries his best to crack a joke, it did not ease Sally's anxieties. He then emits a cough to compose himself, "Um… Miss Sally…? What happened?" He was fine with her not telling him, after all it was their privacy—but as a best friend, it too concerned him, knowing that this was the first time he had seen Lightning in such a dreaded state. This was on a whole other level from Lightning's depression from the rushing in of the next generation racers. This was not about pride or future—this was about the matters of the heart and the past.

She trips despite staying still; knees wobble—however, Flo being the closest caught her before she fell. She regains her balance, a faint upturn of her lips shows gratitude for aiding her. "I… I—I honestly don't know, you see—a parcel was sent here, we thought it was just an ordinary fan letter or hate mail but… it didn't have any receiving name or where it's from." She pauses before regaining her normal breath. "Then… he opened it and there were pictures—of him, as a child. I thought it was cute—but I was wrong, it horrified him so much. He fell silent, he trembled and I—I don't know what happened. The parcel… triggered him…?"

The trio then exchanged glances, still no clue of what could've happened—perhaps another mystery to unlock?

Sally shook her head to calm her racing thoughts, "I'm sorry, I'm overreacting—this isn't like me, but—I've just never seen him this… scared?" as if the whole world came crashing down, the sudden realization of emptiness—the fact that she never knew McQueen the way she thought she did. He was a prideful racer, layer one—he was a huge softie, calm and always so chill, layer two—he was insecure, he had fears for his career that he had loved so much, layer three. But, is that it?

"Um, Sally—maybe you would want us to help you? After all, Lightning is our friend too." Ramone insists, his tone changing from chill to a rather more alert and polite one.

A gentle smile graces her lips as she gives a faint bow of appreciation, "That would be lovely, let's head inside."

Sally opens the main door; lithe, trembling digits upon the door knob as she turns it slowly, letting her visitors first remove their shoes and place them by the rack near the door then enter the cozy household. Once she closed the door, she emits a sigh. "I'm sorry, the lounge is a bit messy—the parcel is there on the ground since it fell, I couldn't fix it yet since I chased Lightning." She walks by, sitting on the single sofa chairs while the rest sat on the longer couch.

They didn't reply, although Sally could assume that Flo was enjoying the photographs of the young hotshot. It wasn't always they'd see pictures such as this, they even wondered if they ever existed.

Although, what caught their attention was Ramone's sudden noise, "Oh!" a pause, "This guy looks familiar—" "Hey, love, don't you think he's familiar?" he inquires towards his wife as he scoots closer to Flo.

"Hmm… oh? You're right, isn't he um…? Oh darn, I can't get the name—it's at the tip of my tongue!" Her brows furrow as Ramone's does the same as well, their actions mirroring each other, an arm over their abdomen and the other half raised to their chin in ponder as their index finger tapped continuously, hoping the idea would cross their minds.

Sally, feeling utterly useless, simply sits restlessly, fingers twitching as they're clasped together, teeth biting onto her bottom lip and eyes gazes towards the married couple and Mater who kept on silently staring at four or five photos. She only had one paper in hand, it was the top card placed on the photographs. "I found you." it says so vaguely yet Sally could feel her heartstrings cut and torn apart. What could this mean?

"Oh Lightning… please let me help you…," she hangs her head low, this time she begs herself not to stay behind the screen in another place. This time, she'll be by his side.

Once again, return to nothingness.

"God no…," with gritted teeth, he fights through his anxiety and trepidation as he drives around. It wasn't like him to drive recklessly, well—at this age. "God—fucking no!" his fist slamming on the vehicle horn as it emits a loud honking noise. It wasn't concrete if the anger resonated more than the fear, there was a hint of sadness and loneliness—the agony, the despair that he had once set aside began to overflow in his heart.

He drives around and around Willy's Butte, reaching almost twenty laps of reckless driving and speed—it was a miracle he hadn't fallen down the cactus pit yet. "Everything was already fine; I've had it all…" Although he younger self begs to differ, he could conclude that this life was fulfilling—he had seven wins—currently carrying Doc's colour and his name while being a crew chief to an aspiring professional racer who'll one day win the whole world. He found the love of his life; he had found a place among this place. He belonged here—he belonged to a place he once detested. And to think that the past would continue to creep up in your heart like a sticky tape residue.

All this wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't left. There were those rare nights he'd pray to this nonexistent God, "Thank you for letting him disappear my life—when I thought that that was the worst thing that could've happened, it became my reason to have something else." Lightning could remember prayers from his younger self resonating within the depths of his memories. The way his hoarse voice begged the skies to reply, the way his tears streamed and his sobs stifles so to not wake up his sleeping mother.

"Why did he come back…? No... Maybe this was just a prank—he couldn't have possibly been still alive." He could remember a brown rusty, covered in moss and dirt house; he could remember how its windows no longer had locks and so during the strongest storms the windows would continuously bang open and close, on an unfortunate occasion, the class would break and its pieces would scramble on the ground inside the house and some fell on the roof of the first floor. He could remember a fiery orange engulfing this lovely, wreckage of a house—he could remember a woman standing still in the middle of the flames, the door open for him to rush inside, he could remember her hands clasped together as if Mother Mary in prayer, waiting for the lord to take her body and soul to heaven. He could remember how he ached to run inside to his mother however she begged him to stay out—her head shaking.

His morals screamed inside his head, and until he decided on an action—it was too late, the roof and ceilings had given up, and it fell and blocked the doorway and any other pathways of entrance. Before the world fell silent, the last he has ever head were screams from his mother dear and the agonizing screeching of his… father.

He shakes his head, the memory too vivid—and alas, his wandering thoughts have led him to crash into the cactus pit, finally.

"Shit, shit—Ah shit!" He tries to do everything he could to go back but there was no other way as he gets stuck betwixt all these cacti.

The alarms of his cars go awry, he then hopes for someone to call Mater and to his car back into the path. Even going out of the car would be far too dangerous, he'd face some angry cacti first and he wouldn't want that. He lets his head lay on his wheel as he begins to contemplate.

"How… could it be that he lived while she didn't?" sorrow seeps upon his lips. "Why did he come back? Why can't he leave me alone?" he was happy, he was content.

Dear me, may emptiness take me whole

"Ohh that's right, he's that guy who hit the floor with my little sister!" Flo says with delight, although this received a disgusted look from Ramone. "She was a whore to begin with anyways, a good fit for that awful man." She adds with a rolls of her eyes, slender digits toy with her auburn locks as she crosses her leg. Ramone simply shakes his head as he scans some other photos with the same man in the background.

"Why is he here? Is there some connect to Lightning?" They exchanged glances; a realization hits them—although of course it was an assumption. "Could it be…?"

"No it can't be," Sally interjects sternly, brows furrowed. "He told me himself his parents died when he was very young. In the pictures it shows that he's around nine to ten years old. He never told me anything else, he dismissed the topic always—avoided it as much as possible but one day, he told me quickly to dismiss the situation that they were dead before he could actually get to know them." Her woeful expression disappears as her cold, calculating eyes focused on the pictures on the table.

Flo, Ramone and Mater knew this expression all too well—this was how she was on the first days she had stayed in this humble residence. She was distant, lost—ignorant and always so hard to reach. Her words were far too sophisticated, replied in facts and justified opinions. She was cold and hard as steel. This was the expression when she knew this was no time to dilly dally around. The last time she had turned like this was when Lightning had received a severe crash a year ago causing him to be locked away in his depression and solitude for months—Sally suffered distance as well, she knew her love needed some space to heal, but she herself felt like a useless being.

Sally arranges the photos from what she assumes the youngest to the oldest, leaving some spaces for the photos Flo, Ramone and Mater had in hand. "Assuming the timeline goes like this, there is a possibility the culprit is sending a message that, let's presume is a "he", he is aware of Lightning's actions since he was around…" She pauses as she looks at the youngest Lightning she could spot, "Three…?" A puzzled expression is evident as the time gaps was rather odd. The man in the photo when he was three was not the same as the rest in the next photographs and in addition to that, that was the only photo of him being that young—everything else jumped to when he was eight years old and afterwards. She pause as she looks at the photographs Flo and Ramone has in hand. "I'd also assume it would be a "he" as there seems to be a hint that the man in Lightning's photo when he was three is trying to imply something."

Removing the three year old Lightning picture aside, creating two groups of photos, she analyzes her graph. "Why would this culprit add this photo which looks akin to a family photo to a bunch of photographs without the assumed father in this photo?" She raises the almost decaying photo in her hand. The other three simply exchange glances and shrug.

"And look, the next photo we see the same man in the one you're holding, Miss Sally, is when McQueen graduated elementary—he's with his assumed father but not the one with the three year old Lightning, but he appears behind—around at the corner." Mater butts in. Flo is amazed that mater was able to see it; however it was no time for astonishments. Sally agrees and states a temporary hypothesis. "Identifying the man in lightning's three year old picture as Man A and the recurring other man as Man B, we could hypothesize that Man A may have been the culprit to sending this mail. Man B on the other hand may have been… Lightning's adoptive father." Sally concludes.

"You mean…," Flo starts, "he's adopted?" Ramon finishes his wife's sentence.

She nods, "It's only an assumption, but we could see that in these two photos, despite the man looking somewhat similar, we could see that Man A has aged and has evident burn marks however retains his facial identification. If lightning says it was true that he saw his parents die, we could say that Man A was assumed dead on the day of the tragedy—thus, Lightning, still at a young age, was sent to a foster family who could nurture him which would result to Man B being the foster father and assumed to be the biological father."

Sally sighs, feeling that there is a hole in her hypothesis; she lays back, her hand running through her blue locks. "What's missing?"

"Miss Sally?" Mater interjects again, "If what you say could be true, how does it answer the culprit's motive and that card that says "I found you."? It doesn't make sense if the true father is sending this b'cause, if he wanted Lightning back, he could've filed for the papers to get him back… right?" Mater's confusion is evident, eyes unsure of where to look at despite the organized way of placement of the photographs.

Sally sighs, "I don't know, Mater… all I could say is that this is all something personal that we can't just create an assumption on." Even if someone could predict a whole timeline, we can never be sure on how to predict a plausible reason.

They all sigh in exasperation, shoulders drooping and Sally's cold demeanor reverts back to her gentle state—worry washing over.

"Hey Flo? You mentioned something about this guy right? Could you give me some more details?"

Flo nods, "Well, that was a hella long time ago—if I had to say… around 34 years ago? Boy that's a really long time ago—anyways, he's your local drunkard, gambler—although a lucky one, he's great enough he's a lucky bastard when it comes to gambling. Spends it all off on sex and more drinks and gambling." Ramone simply shakes his head as he knew the man as well.

"He met my sister in law, had sex with her the first time they met—don't ask me how I know. I just do." Ramone concludes, shuddering at the memory. If he wasn't that temporary bartender at that time he wouldn't have witnessed such public indecency. He was simply serving drinks since his best friend was sick and wanted him to cover for his place just for a night. He was confident in his bartender skills, and he expected drunkards and all, but not exhibitionists and this club of sex freaks.

Flo runs a soothing hand on her husband's back, trying to relieve him out of the memory. "My sister was a real whore and exhibitionist, the day he met that man—she removed her clothes and they smacked right in front of my husband. Well we weren't married at that time yet; nevertheless, we also saw it along with some others who were rooting for them as they apparently showcased a money-worthy exhibition."

Ramone could vividly remember how his sister in low slowly unbuttoned her shirt, showing no undergarments, the way she slid her thigh on his leg—lifting her skirt as he showed him her shaved pussy. It was bad enough Ramone could identify those small details; he had vowed to remember only his wife's genitals. The man was triggered, lifting her bottom up and let her sit on the bar, the glasses they order fell, well good enough it fell on Ramone's side, he caught it before the damage went on his bill. No before long the woman was naked, showing her bare self to the whole club, squirting her cum on the glass like a cow.

It was bad enough it happened right in front of him, not before long others decided to join in—some fucked on the dance floor, even the DJ himself joined in the orgy.

Sally's nose scrunched up in disgust, she couldn't imagine what Ramone had witnessed but definitely it was scarring.

"Anyways, this man was, I forgot his name—I think it was…," Flo began pondering but Ramone could only blankly reply, "Stefan, Stefan Hubert." He could never forget that name.

"Stefan… hmm…," Sally could've sworn that name was familiar—but her train of thoughts were disturbed when the echo of the doorbell was heard.

Sally stood up and checked the window to reveal Doc; it surprised her as it wasn't often that Doc would go out. She unlocked the door and offered the man to stay in but he politely declined, "Is mater there? Rookie is in a pinch." He says with an exasperated sigh.

Mater then runs up to the entrance, eyes shot open. "Is he alright?" Sally simply nods along while Doc shows them confusion. "Well I doubt he is, I can't get him out of the cactus pit." He scoffs then walks along, although before he goes far off, he turns his head and shoots a questioning gaze on Sally as if to ask, "What happened to him?" but he knew that now was not the time and Sally understood.

"I'm sorry Miss Sally, gotta go get my tow and pick up Lightnin'", he gives a polite bow and wears his sneakers then runs off.

Sally closes the door and walks back to the lounge, "I guess our meeting is done for now, Lightning wouldn't be happy if he knew we were trying to do solve his issue…," her gaze drops as she picks up the photographs and places them back in the box.

"It's alright, I think we learned a lot today—I mean, I guess I just realized how much we never really knew the hotshot." Flo sighs, every time they tried to dig a little deeper in his character, he's always dismissed it so quickly, and not even Sally could extract a part of him into the light. "My wife and I would like to go back here tomorrow, maybe we could solve a little more into this." Ramone suggests and Sally delightfully agrees.

"We'll see, I think Lightning has an interview to attend tomorrow, he'll be away so I guess we could have some time to investigate this further." A smile graces her lips.

.

.

.

"Found you, at long last."

A/N: hey, so how was it? I haven't been writing for a while so this is a hella rusty and crappy, but hoping this interested you! Please do leave a review if you'd still like to see the rest of the story! Have a lovely day!