Started filling prompts over at fic promptly on dreamwidth with Motorcity fic and past experience has told me that I might need to change this into a 'Collection of Motorcity Ficlets' catch-all entry so I don't spam the section with lots of one-shots. Just a heads-up in case this fic suddenly changes title and summary. :)

Summary: It was just a regular day, Chuck and Mike happening across more of Kane's grunts. What Kane had in store for Motorcity this time though…

Spoilers for 1x07 'Blond Thunder' and vague spoilers for 1x10 'The Duke of Detroit Presents…'


By Dark Ice Dragon

Chuck sank down to the ground, his legs shaking. Couldn't they have a quiet drive somewhere and, oh, not get attacked by Kane's people at every turn? Except then Mikey started getting twitchy after so long so it was a lose-lose situation all 'round.

"Hey… Chuckles?"

And that – huh. There was a thread of uncertainty in Mike's tone and Chuck knew he'd misheard that – this was Mike he was talking about, the guy who gunned Mutt at over 200 mph on a daily basis, a wide grin always on his face as he battled against Kane's forces.

Chuck peered over Mutt's bonnet, double-checking they were completely alone. Mike was standing in the middle of a circle of unconscious Kane soldiers, his staff still out, throwing a flickering blue halo around him. But he wasn't moving, his body too stiff, too tense.

"Yeah, bro?" Chuck said as he stood up, going over to his friend's side.

"I think I've found the reason for the new and improved goggles," Mike said quietly, still staring at the bodies. This batch had different tinted lenses, an altered design from the usual uniform.

"We're not going to like this, are we?" Chuck said, resignation growing in him. Not that there was ever anything to like about KaneCo.

"No," Mike said with a sigh in his voice. He drummed his fingers over his staff before throwing it up in the air, releasing it, the staff turning back into its skull form. It was a move Chuck had seen a hundred times before, Mike catching the skull with pinpoint accuracy every time - which was why he freaked out so much when Mike fumbled, the skull nearly dropping from his fingers.

"Mikey?" Chuck screeched, over to his friend's side in an instant.

"I'm f-" Mike winced just as Chuck was about to start yelling that no, he was clearly not fine! Standing next to him, Chuck got a close up of Mike's eyes: they were bloodshot, the pupils way too small for the lighting that was around them. "I've been better," he admitted. "A looot better," he added after a second.

Mike wasn't focusing on him, looking as if he was staring through him. Chuck gaped at him, his breath freezing in his chest. Mike couldn't see. "You're blind…?" This was the newest plot Kane had? Turn everyone blind so no-one could see him attacking?

"Not completely," Mike said, peering at him. "It's just…everything's blurring together – I can't see where one thing ends and another thing begins."

"Oh, uuh…" What did you say to that?

"Don't worry about me." Hahahaaa… Right. Of course not. "We need to get back, see if Jacob or Dutch can make a cure," Mike said as he reached out for him, and Chuck grabbed his arm.

"Sounds like a plan," he tried to say as reassuringly as he could, even though his voice was shaking and why was hethe one that was panicking when Mike was pretty much cool and collected one like he normally was? …Which, pretty much answered his question…

And, uh, was he supposed to put Mike's arm around his shoulder (he was blind, not incapable of walking by himself), or tug him around by his arm to Mutt or – Oh. Ooooh nononono! "Uh, Mike?" he squeaked.

Mike grinned of all things. "Yeah; you're going to have to drive us back."

"I – I can't!" he yelped. "Don't you remember that I'm not allowed to drive Mutt? Ever?" Because that 'ever' was totally important.

"Aaand do you remember the other condition was you to keep taking driving lessons from me?" Mike asked, slinging his arm around Chuck's shoulder. "I trust you with her."

"Yeah?" Chuck whimpered. And they'd kept that promise, Mike giving him lessons every other Tuesday, Kane's attacks permitting. He still wasn't able to do any of the fancy tricks the others could do though, and going over 150 mph made him yell at the top of his lungs.

But. Mike needed him. They couldn't call the others because it would take too long for them to get here and Kane's soldiers would be up again by then, ready to go for another round.

He took a deep breath. "I - Okay, let's go." He got an extra squeeze for that, Mike shifting his arm to Chuck's other shoulder when they started walking. It seemed to work.

When they got into Mutt and Mike had placed the skull on the gearstick, Chuck's brain started engaging again as he fidgeted with Mutt's steering wheel. It felt different from Blond Thunder's, a little softer and more well-worn. "You don't mind if we stay in the double-digit range, do you?"

Mike chuckled, feeling around for the seatbelt. "No, that's fine."

Chuck made a sceptical sound, not entirely believing him, but he started Mutt up anyway.

There thankfully weren't any more Kane bots or grunts on the prowl but that didn't mean the trip was any less stressful, what with the jumps and having to spin around in just the right way to make sure you landed back on the road right and – way too many things to think about.

"You're doing great, Chuckles!" Mike cheered him on over the roar of Mutt's engines, leaning with the turns.

"I don't think so!" he yelped back, feeling the sweat trickle down his neck, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Aw, c'mon, buddy, give yourself a little credit!"

"I'll do that when we're no longer moving and not dead!" And with his driving skills, they could fall off the road edge in the next three seconds! - Like now! With a shriek, Chuck spun the wheel so they wouldn't plummet to their doom.


It didn't take too long before the roads started growing even more familiar, and Chuck breathed a sigh of relief. Nearly there.

"Huh," Mike said, rubbing at his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Chuck wanted to whip around to check, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the road, especially when there was some debris strewn across it. Was his sight worsening? Was it not just his sight, but something else that affected everything?

"I think my eyesight's coming back," Mike said as he squinted out the window. "The edges are looking a lot clearer."

Chuck would have sagged right back into the seat if he wasn't sitting completely rigged. Temporary. It was just temporary.

"I wonder if it was because I'd been able to shield my eyes in time…?" Mike murmured.

"I dunno…? I was hiding behind Mutt so…" Yeah. He hadn't been caught in whatever the KaneCo grunts had thrown at Mike. They rolled to a stop outside Jacob's and Chuck just flopped, his head resting on the steering wheel.

"We'll be finding out soon enough anyway," Mike said, resolution in his voice. "And, thanks," he said, turning to him. "Wouldn't have been able to get back without you."

"Oh, I don't know," Chuck flustered, fumbling with his seatbelt, "you probably would have still driven better than me."

"No, I wouldn't have."

And there was too much certainty in Mike's voice that Chuck just knew he couldn't argue against it.

"Sooo…" Mike drew out, grinning at him. "You gonna give yourself credit now?"

"Uh – ahaha – Mikey, I was, uh, panicking…then?" Like he always was?

Mike didn't say anything, a smile on his face, waiting.

"Um…" Okay, he'd just driven them how many miles, without Mike's voice guiding him into what gear he should be in, or how to turn, withoutcrashing and burning, or careening over an edge. "I did good?"

"Better than, buddy."

For the prompt, 'Any, Any, temporary blindness'.