A/N: Originally this story was meant to have twelve parts, but unfortunately I ran out of ideas after six. I may add more someday, but for all intents and purposes this story is now finished.

Barry and Vince are both from the first Cars video game.

"Ow!"

Vince groaned; he knew what the exclamation meant. Barry had hurt himself again. Seemed like the dope was always getting injured-- or pretending to anyway.

"What now?" Vince griped as he pulled off the road leading towards Radiator Springs. Great timing, he thought; night was falling, and he was more than ready for some dinner at the V8 Café. Barry had stopped several yards behind him and was sniffling.

"I-- I godda flat tire!"

"Oh, for Chrysler's sake." Vince reversed and pulled back even with his friend, who was nursing his left front wheel. "I knew we shoulda gone back to New York weeks ago. You ain't cut out for the rough life, ya wimp."

"It's not my fault! Someone left a big hunk a' metal in the road!"

"And you ran over it? You're a regular Einstein." Vince gave him a little slap with his tire, which only made Barry sniffle harder.

"Owww!"

"Quit whinin'." Vince revved his engine. "I'll go inta town and get t'at tow truck after you." At least he'd get away from Barry for a while. They were friends, but by the manufacturer, Barry could be annoying. He started complaining if Vince so much as tapped him. Don't know why I put up with him, Vince thought.

"D-don't leave me." Vince had started to pull away, but he stopped and looked at Barry in his side mirror after hearing the pitiful sound of his voice. The orange and blue car was looking at him miserably. "It's gettin' dark, and you know I'm scared a' the dark."

"Stop bein' such a baby, ya baby. You're safer after dark here t'an in Queens."

"Ha'n't you heard about the ghost light?" Barry whimpered. "And the Screamin' Banshee?"

"The what and the what?" Vince backed up again. "Ain't no such thing as whatever you said. You'll be fine. That tow truck'll be out here in no time."

"Vince. . . please." Barry pressed the side of his front bumper against Vince's, wincing as he leaned on his flat tire and pressed the bare axle against the ground.

Vince bit his lip. This was why he "put up" with Barry; it felt good when Barry needed him. For every time Vince hit Barry on the hood, and every time Barry complained about the time he spent on it and how sensitive hoods ran in his family, there would be a time when one of their other friends hurt Barry's feelings, or the orange car got to thinking about his brother who had disappeared years ago without a word. Those times, Barry didn't go to Sonny or any of their other friends to mope. No, he always cried on Vince's fender. Those times made Vince feel magnanimous and tender, all the more so because he was so mean to Barry most of the time. If he still needs me after the way I treat him, I must be something pretty special, he'd think.

"I can make it inta town if you'll help me," Barry went on. "Just don't leave me!"

Vince sighed. "Okay, okay, I won't." He nudged the corner of his own front bumper under Barry's and lifted him a bit off the road to take the pressure off his deflated tire. "C'mon."

As they started slowly towards the lights of Radiator Springs, Vince thought, I'm not gonna leave you. I couldn't if I tried.