Jailbreak: A Disney Fan Fiction

Chapter 12

Despite reassuring McQueen that they wouldn't be seen, Red let out a sigh of relief when they made it to her house. She wasn't the only one. Pushing McQueen through the neighborhood hadn't been too easy, and the stress of possibly being seen had put everyone on edge.

Red typed in the code to the garage, and it opened up. Due to both Marisol and her father being mechanics, it was big enough to hold four cars. Today, luckily, it was empty. They all pushed McQueen in, and she shut the door again.

"I'll call Marisol." She started walking towards the door that led into the house. "You can all rest here until we can think of a way to get you home."

"That's very generous," Jack Skellington replied, "but won't your parents notice if we're here?"

"They're not here right now. My tio y tia surprised them with a trip to Maine for their anniversary. They won't be back for another four days. McQueen," she faced the race car, "I'm going to leave this door open. If you need anything, shout for us. Okay?"

"Alright." The car looked a bit uneasy, but he was visibly more relaxed in Red's garage than he'd been in the cell.

Everyone else followed Red into her house. It was a cozy bungalow, with the walls painted in warm colors. The door to the garage led directly into the kitchen, and beyond that was the living room. Stacked around the TV was a messy pile of snack wrappers.

"I thought we picked that up." Red blushed and went to clean up the mess. She and Marty had been having movie nights every night for the last few days, and the two were infamous for not picking up their trash.

"I'll take care of that," Marty came up behind her, "you call your sister."

"Thanks." She pulled her phone out of her pocket. She cast a glance at the characters. They all looked a bit uncomfortable. She was about to say something when Marisol picked up.

"¿Qué pasa, hermanita? I'm in the middle of something."

"Hola, Marisol. Listen, could you please come home? Es importante."

Marisol quickly sounded concerned. "¿Estás herido? ¿Está todo bien?"

"Si, si, estoy bien. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Pero necesito que vuelvas a casa, por favor."

Marisol sighed. "Okay, okay. Estoy llegando a casa. You owe me for this one."

"Gracias, hermana. See you soon. Adios." She hung up, and turned to the characters.

"Anyone hungry?"

_ _ _

Marisol rode up on her motorcycle twenty minutes later. Red, having just finished making a hot dog for Nala, ran out to meet her (and to tell her what was going on).

She watched as her twenty-six-year-old sister took off her motorcycle helmet, revealing her jet black pixie cut. Marisol noticed that Red hadn't opened the garage for her, and the younger sister could tell that her concern (and curiosity) was growing.

"Alright, Rosita, what's going on?"

"Okay, this is going to take a little explaining...but there are six Disney characters in the house right now, and I need you to fix Lightning McQueen."

Whatever Marisol had expected her to say, it certainly was not that. She stared at Red as if she had just suggested they jump into a volcano.

"Seriously, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm not making this up! Don't believe me? Come inside."

_ _ _

Like everyone else, Marisol screamed when she met Jack Skellington. Marty simply casually waved at his best friend's sister while he sat next to Nala, who was on the couch working on her tenth hot dog (the only meat he knew how to cook). Red had to talk to her sister for a long time before she could come back in and view the situation calmly.

When she did come back, she was clearly uncomfortable, but tried to be nice. "Nice to meet all of you," she said carefully, "I'm Marisol, Rosita's sister. If you need anything, let me know. In the meantime, I apparently have a car to fix."

"I'll go with you." Red went with her.

"She seems nice." Moana said, looking up from Red's collection of Funko POP! Figures on the bookshelf.

"Wait," Buzz asked, looking away from the video game collection, "why did she call Red 'Rosita'?"

"Because 'Red' is just her nickname," Marty answered, "but only her parents and Marisol call her Rosita. I called her 'Rosie' once, and she threw her sandwich at me."

"But why 'Red'?" Jack asked.

Marty pointed to where Red had left her red high tops. "That's why. She's been wearing the exact same color and style of shoe since we were nine, and wearing a matching shirt or jacket with it. I called her Red once in elementary school, and it stuck. Way cooler than my nickname."

"You have a nickname?" Woody asked.

"My full name is Samuel Martin Kasango. But EVERYONE in my family has 'Sam' in their name: my dad is Sampson, my mom is Samantha, my older sister is Samie...I didn't want to be another Sam, so I started going by my middle name, Martin. My dad called me Marty once, and that's all anyone's called me since."

He realized that he was rambling, noticing for the first time how anxious he was. He got off the couch and started to pace. Now that they had some downtime, he needed to ask the characters some questions.

"Now, could you please tell me exactly how you got here, and what that Daniels guy said to you?"

_ _ _

McQueen had been growing more bored by the minute since they got to Red's house. While it was definitely an improvement over being locked in a cell, he didn't have anyone to talk to. He considered calling out to somebody in the house, but he'd stopped himself. It seemed rude to call for them just because he was bored.

He was practically asleep when he heard the motorcycle pull up. He heard a woman scream, followed by consoling noises and Red having a conversation with someone in a different part of the house. He concluded, correctly, that this was Red's sister. Still, he managed to be surprised when he saw another human enter the garage with Red.

"Lightning McQueen," the younger girl started, "this is my sister Marisol. She's the best mechanic in town, and she can fix you."

"Hi." The car offered. As relieved as he felt to know he might soon be fixed, he felt a twinge of fear knowing that it wouldn't be Doc or another car fixing him.

"Hi." Marisol seemed uncomfortable, too. Still, she took her toolbox and put on what she called her gloves.

"Let me know if you need anything," Red said as she started to walk back into the house. Before leaving, she turned and smiled encouragingly at McQueen. "Don't worry; she's the best there is."

"Gracias, hermanita." Marisol said as she checked her tools. "Now get out of here so I can work."

Red left, and Marisol walked over to start working on his engine. "Alright, Mr. McQueen," she told him, "open your hood and say 'Ah'."