Random humanized Sarge/Fillmore fic
Will You Still Call me Superman?
Cars, Sarge/Fillmore, Humanized, Sarge comes home from the war broken.
AN: In the parts that take place before the war (and before he became a sergeant) Sarges name is Will because he was a 1941 Willys model in the movie.
Fillmore leaned against the wall of Wills apartment, arms crossed like a petulant child. "I can't believe your actually going."
Wills head snapped up and he furiously retorted; "I can't believe your going to be a fucking deserter."
Fillmore straightened up abruptly. "Better than being a *murderer*."
Will slammed his suitcase shut, he got up and pounded his fist into the wall beside Fillmore's head. "I'm fighting for my country."
Fillmore looked away, his jaw clenched tight and eyes glassy, but not from drugs, he hadn't smoked up all day. Will felt his eyes soften, his fist unclenched against the wall.
"Are you going to be here when I get back?" Will murmured finally.
"I don't know." Fillmore said defiantly. His lips quivered and he still avoided Wills eyes.
Will sighed and leaned closer to the other man, he turned his head so his lips were a breath away from his ear. "Let me rephrase then, *please* be here when I get back."
"*If* you come back." Fillmore whispered, the words seemed to shatter his composure. He buried his face in the dip of Wills neck, he sobbed brutally, grasping desperately at the other man. Will held him tight, carding his fingers gently through his dirty blonde hair, soothing nonsense spilling out of his mouth In an attempt to comfort his friend.
"Please come back, oh god please." Fillmore whimpered, crying so hard he was gasping for air.
"Don't be scared, I'll be back, I promise." He hated making promises he couldn't keep, but he'd do anything for Fillmore, and that included doing anything in his power to come back to him.
*
Will didn't see Fillmore for almost the whole day before he left. He was just getting into his jeep to head off when the other man showed up. His cloths were even more disheveled then usual, hair matted, and high as hell.
Fillmore ran as soon as he saw him, not stopping until they were inches apart. He pressed their bodies together and wound his fingers into Wills hair, he kissed him without reservation. Fillmore bit at his lips and held him so hard it hurt. When the other man finally pulled away they were both panting, lips swollen and red.
Neither of them moved very far away, staying close enough that Will could feel the others breath ghosting across his face. They stayed like that for a while, it was Fillmore who finally spoke. "You better come back."
He didn't have a chance to respond, Fillmore left as abruptly as he had arrived. Leaving Will standing beside his car as the gaping faces of Radiator Springs watched him with shock. He knew some folks didn't approve of two men feeling like they do about each other, but these people were his family and they wouldn't let a stupid thing like him and Fillmore change that.
He took one last look at the town he loved, trying to pretend his eyes weren't focused on the last place he had seen Fillmore. Will got into his jeep and considered it a victory when be didn't start crying until he hit the highway.
*
Three years passed before he finally made it back home, he considered going somewhere else, running away and never looking back at the little cobbled together town of Radiator Springs. But in the end he rolls in to town in his beat up jeep, fists clenched bone white on the steering wheel.
He planned to get out at Floos for a bite to eat, but as soon as the towns folk see him they began to yell for everyone else, the words "Look! Look who it is!" start to fill the streets. Sarge sighed, it was time to face the music.
He pulled over to the side of the beaten down road reluctantly, he fought the impulse to run as he opened the door and climbed out of the jeep. Someone tackled him as soon as his feet hit the ground, his body stiffened, preparing to fight of his attacker. His nose recognized the familiar scent of marijuana smoke and strawberries before his instincts had a chance to take over.
"Will, oh god Will your alive, your alive, thank you." Fillmore whispered fervently into the warm leather of his jacket.
Sarges hand moved of it's own volition to the small of the other mans back. "...Fillmore?"
And suddenly Fillmore was kissing him, breathless and desperate. It snapped Sarge out of the shock of seeing him. He pulled back sharply with the words: "Get off.". Sarge moved the hand on the blondes back to his chest where he pushed him so hard it made Fillmore struggle to keep from falling. "Get off of me." He said again to accompany his push.
Fillmore stared at him as though his actions actually stung. "What?"
"Just-" Sarge resisted the urge to claw at his hair, he settled for clenching his fists so hard it would leave marks for hours. "Just stay away from me."
"Will?" Fillmore murmured, voice hurt and unsure.
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Sarge screamed brutally at the other man. "Thats not my name." he said after a few moments of dreadful silence, his voice like a hiss.
Sarge yanked opened the jeep door and slammed it with a deafening bang. He kept his eyes focused on the road in front him, pretending the sight of Fillmore's devastated face in his rear view window didn't absolutely destroy him.
*
They hadn't spoken for more than a week when it happened, Sheriffs Car backfired, Sarge had frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes locked on Fillmore walking innocently in front of him. He reacted instantly, tackling the other man to the ground and attempting to cover every inch of his body with his own.
Fillmore didn't seem to notice the painful impact of his body smashing against the concrete. He twisted around so he could take Sarges face in his hands, he leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "It's okay, it was just a car backfiring, your safe, I got you."
He stared at the other man for a long while, body shaking and breath coming out in ragged gasps. "Oh god." He croaked finally.
The words seemed to dissolve his strength, Sarge began to cry, racking horrible sobs the seemed to never end. It was the first time in so very long, it was horrible, but he couldn't even consider how much of an idiot he was making of himself as all his attention seemed to be focused on not hyperventilating.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck." Sarge howled, his words meaningless and broken.
"Shhhhhh." Fillmore murmured, rocking them both soothingly back and forth. "It's okay."
The stayed like that even after the pain of the way their contorted turns to full blown agony, neither one of them even considering moving as they hold the other close.
Eventually his sobs gave way to hiccuping gasps, they sat there in gentle silence until Sarge finally whispered, voice hoarse, "You know I'm not him anymore, I'm not the man that left."
Fillmore pulled back so their looking at each other once more, his hands moves to cup Sarges jaw, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "Yeah I know, but I'd really like to meet the man you are now."
Sarge considered this before shifting back and offering his hand to the other man. "Hi, my names Sarge, I was a sergeant in the military, Im not entirely sure I ever left, I get scared by cars backfiring and I'm kind of fucked up."
Fillmore grinned and shook his hand. "Hello Sarge, my names Fillmore, I smoke weed to much, have no faith in the government, am desperately in love with an amazing man, and am more than a little messed up myself."
"Well, who isn't these days?" Sarge said feeling his lips pulled into a brittle smile, it wasn't much, but it was a start.
*
Sarge watched with bored indifference as Sally and Lightning walked past where he and Fillmore we're sitting in front of his place in lawn chairs.
It was a calm walk until Sally suddenly burst into a run, she turned her head to walk back at McQueen, a teasing grin on her face "Can't keep up hot-rod? She yelled as she ran off at full speed. The young racer laughed as he tried to catch up.
"Oh to be young and in love." Fillmore murmured gazing at the young couple and simultaneously scooting his chair over closer to Sarge.
"More like young and stupid." Sarge muttered scathingly. He resisted the urge to lean in to his friends attempts at cuddling, just a little, a beam lit up Fillmore's face that informed Sarge that he had completely failed.
"It was nice while it last though, wasn't it?" Fillmore said giving Sarge a fond smile with slightly misty eyes. Sarge can't help smile back, the hippie was right, it was incredible while it lasted.
But it wasn't always, he remembered screaming fight about war and weed and love and everything, that ended with fists slamming into walls, one of them always ending up walking out, but always coming back the next morning.
He remembered the uncertainty, not knowing how long they would last, if what he felt was actually real. And then there'd been the war, and everything had been horrible for so long, but then things had gotten better, things hadn't fallen apart.
Now he had certainty, he knew if they could survive all that they could survive anything. They still fought, but it wasn't explosive, the threat of walking out never loomed on the horizon, they knew what it was like to be without the other and neither wanted to go through that again.
Fillmore rested his head on Sarges solider, the former solider breathed in his friends scent, still the same after all these years, more familiar then his own. Everything about Fillmore was well known to Sarge, the quirking slant of his smile, the tickle of his goatee when they kissed, his awful music and soft snore at night.
Sarge rested his temple on the crown of the other mans head. He lifted up a hand to run his fingers through the tangled dirty blonde hair, he smiled at him, fond and loving although he would never admit it.
"It was nice." Sarge whispered. "But I like it better now."
Cars, Sarge/Fillmore, Humanized, Sarge comes home from the war broken.
AN: In the parts that take place before the war (and before he became a sergeant) Sarges name is Will because he was a 1941 Willys model in the movie.
Fillmore leaned against the wall of Wills apartment, arms crossed like a petulant child. "I can't believe your actually going."
Wills head snapped up and he furiously retorted; "I can't believe your going to be a fucking deserter."
Fillmore straightened up abruptly. "Better than being a *murderer*."
Will slammed his suitcase shut, he got up and pounded his fist into the wall beside Fillmore's head. "I'm fighting for my country."
Fillmore looked away, his jaw clenched tight and eyes glassy, but not from drugs, he hadn't smoked up all day. Will felt his eyes soften, his fist unclenched against the wall.
"Are you going to be here when I get back?" Will murmured finally.
"I don't know." Fillmore said defiantly. His lips quivered and he still avoided Wills eyes.
Will sighed and leaned closer to the other man, he turned his head so his lips were a breath away from his ear. "Let me rephrase then, *please* be here when I get back."
"*If* you come back." Fillmore whispered, the words seemed to shatter his composure. He buried his face in the dip of Wills neck, he sobbed brutally, grasping desperately at the other man. Will held him tight, carding his fingers gently through his dirty blonde hair, soothing nonsense spilling out of his mouth In an attempt to comfort his friend.
"Please come back, oh god please." Fillmore whimpered, crying so hard he was gasping for air.
"Don't be scared, I'll be back, I promise." He hated making promises he couldn't keep, but he'd do anything for Fillmore, and that included doing anything in his power to come back to him.
*
Will didn't see Fillmore for almost the whole day before he left. He was just getting into his jeep to head off when the other man showed up. His cloths were even more disheveled then usual, hair matted, and high as hell.
Fillmore ran as soon as he saw him, not stopping until they were inches apart. He pressed their bodies together and wound his fingers into Wills hair, he kissed him without reservation. Fillmore bit at his lips and held him so hard it hurt. When the other man finally pulled away they were both panting, lips swollen and red.
Neither of them moved very far away, staying close enough that Will could feel the others breath ghosting across his face. They stayed like that for a while, it was Fillmore who finally spoke. "You better come back."
He didn't have a chance to respond, Fillmore left as abruptly as he had arrived. Leaving Will standing beside his car as the gaping faces of Radiator Springs watched him with shock. He knew some folks didn't approve of two men feeling like they do about each other, but these people were his family and they wouldn't let a stupid thing like him and Fillmore change that.
He took one last look at the town he loved, trying to pretend his eyes weren't focused on the last place he had seen Fillmore. Will got into his jeep and considered it a victory when be didn't start crying until he hit the highway.
*
Three years passed before he finally made it back home, he considered going somewhere else, running away and never looking back at the little cobbled together town of Radiator Springs. But in the end he rolls in to town in his beat up jeep, fists clenched bone white on the steering wheel.
He planned to get out at Floos for a bite to eat, but as soon as the towns folk see him they began to yell for everyone else, the words "Look! Look who it is!" start to fill the streets. Sarge sighed, it was time to face the music.
He pulled over to the side of the beaten down road reluctantly, he fought the impulse to run as he opened the door and climbed out of the jeep. Someone tackled him as soon as his feet hit the ground, his body stiffened, preparing to fight of his attacker. His nose recognized the familiar scent of marijuana smoke and strawberries before his instincts had a chance to take over.
"Will, oh god Will your alive, your alive, thank you." Fillmore whispered fervently into the warm leather of his jacket.
Sarges hand moved of it's own volition to the small of the other mans back. "...Fillmore?"
And suddenly Fillmore was kissing him, breathless and desperate. It snapped Sarge out of the shock of seeing him. He pulled back sharply with the words: "Get off.". Sarge moved the hand on the blondes back to his chest where he pushed him so hard it made Fillmore struggle to keep from falling. "Get off of me." He said again to accompany his push.
Fillmore stared at him as though his actions actually stung. "What?"
"Just-" Sarge resisted the urge to claw at his hair, he settled for clenching his fists so hard it would leave marks for hours. "Just stay away from me."
"Will?" Fillmore murmured, voice hurt and unsure.
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Sarge screamed brutally at the other man. "Thats not my name." he said after a few moments of dreadful silence, his voice like a hiss.
Sarge yanked opened the jeep door and slammed it with a deafening bang. He kept his eyes focused on the road in front him, pretending the sight of Fillmore's devastated face in his rear view window didn't absolutely destroy him.
*
They hadn't spoken for more than a week when it happened, Sheriffs Car backfired, Sarge had frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes locked on Fillmore walking innocently in front of him. He reacted instantly, tackling the other man to the ground and attempting to cover every inch of his body with his own.
Fillmore didn't seem to notice the painful impact of his body smashing against the concrete. He twisted around so he could take Sarges face in his hands, he leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "It's okay, it was just a car backfiring, your safe, I got you."
He stared at the other man for a long while, body shaking and breath coming out in ragged gasps. "Oh god." He croaked finally.
The words seemed to dissolve his strength, Sarge began to cry, racking horrible sobs the seemed to never end. It was the first time in so very long, it was horrible, but he couldn't even consider how much of an idiot he was making of himself as all his attention seemed to be focused on not hyperventilating.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck." Sarge howled, his words meaningless and broken.
"Shhhhhh." Fillmore murmured, rocking them both soothingly back and forth. "It's okay."
The stayed like that even after the pain of the way their contorted turns to full blown agony, neither one of them even considering moving as they hold the other close.
Eventually his sobs gave way to hiccuping gasps, they sat there in gentle silence until Sarge finally whispered, voice hoarse, "You know I'm not him anymore, I'm not the man that left."
Fillmore pulled back so their looking at each other once more, his hands moves to cup Sarges jaw, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "Yeah I know, but I'd really like to meet the man you are now."
Sarge considered this before shifting back and offering his hand to the other man. "Hi, my names Sarge, I was a sergeant in the military, Im not entirely sure I ever left, I get scared by cars backfiring and I'm kind of fucked up."
Fillmore grinned and shook his hand. "Hello Sarge, my names Fillmore, I smoke weed to much, have no faith in the government, am desperately in love with an amazing man, and am more than a little messed up myself."
"Well, who isn't these days?" Sarge said feeling his lips pulled into a brittle smile, it wasn't much, but it was a start.
*
Sarge watched with bored indifference as Sally and Lightning walked past where he and Fillmore we're sitting in front of his place in lawn chairs.
It was a calm walk until Sally suddenly burst into a run, she turned her head to walk back at McQueen, a teasing grin on her face "Can't keep up hot-rod? She yelled as she ran off at full speed. The young racer laughed as he tried to catch up.
"Oh to be young and in love." Fillmore murmured gazing at the young couple and simultaneously scooting his chair over closer to Sarge.
"More like young and stupid." Sarge muttered scathingly. He resisted the urge to lean in to his friends attempts at cuddling, just a little, a beam lit up Fillmore's face that informed Sarge that he had completely failed.
"It was nice while it last though, wasn't it?" Fillmore said giving Sarge a fond smile with slightly misty eyes. Sarge can't help smile back, the hippie was right, it was incredible while it lasted.
But it wasn't always, he remembered screaming fight about war and weed and love and everything, that ended with fists slamming into walls, one of them always ending up walking out, but always coming back the next morning.
He remembered the uncertainty, not knowing how long they would last, if what he felt was actually real. And then there'd been the war, and everything had been horrible for so long, but then things had gotten better, things hadn't fallen apart.
Now he had certainty, he knew if they could survive all that they could survive anything. They still fought, but it wasn't explosive, the threat of walking out never loomed on the horizon, they knew what it was like to be without the other and neither wanted to go through that again.
Fillmore rested his head on Sarges solider, the former solider breathed in his friends scent, still the same after all these years, more familiar then his own. Everything about Fillmore was well known to Sarge, the quirking slant of his smile, the tickle of his goatee when they kissed, his awful music and soft snore at night.
Sarge rested his temple on the crown of the other mans head. He lifted up a hand to run his fingers through the tangled dirty blonde hair, he smiled at him, fond and loving although he would never admit it.
"It was nice." Sarge whispered. "But I like it better now."