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danvers-writes · 7 years

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Alone We Stand Together

Who: Lena Luthor & Alex Danvers ft Lillian Luthor When: Evening of January 10th Where: L-Corp, Lena’s office What: Alex shows up for a much needed talk, but someone beats her to the punch. A life is saved, more than once in the span of a couple hours, the queen falls, and a soldier stands. Warnings: Guns, violence, wounds, blood, the usual. Oh, and attempted suicide. Enjoy.

Alex hadn't been able to rest for the past couple of nights. Ever since Sam reached breaking point that afternoon, a weight had settled on her chest. Now, beyond the concern over her friend's mental health, her marriage in the rocks, there was also knowing she had unintentionally hurt Lena, whom had only tried to be her friend. None of it was her fault, not really, and Alex knew as much, but she still felt it her responsibility on her shoulders to try and fix things, to face the music and fight for those she wanted to keep in her life. And so, she had decided to walk over to L-Corp, ready to apologize, explain, and offer her other cheek to be bruised if Lena so decided.

Lena was drinking a glass of whiskey in her office at L-Corp. She had been coming to reside in the office more frequently due to Sam's absence, feeling a sense of nostalgia being back in her old desk. She lounged around, staring at a blank computer screen. For once in her life she did not have anything to do. Catco was being taken care of currently by James, and she was done writing up the promotion proposal for Kara. All she had to do was attend her 2 o'clock meeting and Lena was done for the day, until she heard a voice on the intercom from her secretary on the other side of the locked door. "Ms. Luthor, there has been a breech in our security system. There is someone going up your private elevator. We are sending bodyguards your way as we speak.” Lena sighed, she knew who it was, and quite frankly, she did not give a damn. “Don’t send the bodyguards in, have them on standby on the other side of the door. I have this under control, remember the safe word.” “But-“ “Alice.” “…okay Ma’am. Please be careful.” Lena sighed, placing her phone under her desk. She heard her elevator ding. She swiveled her chair around, only to be met with the person that has been trailing her the past couple of weeks. She addressed her cause of sudden stress. “Lillian.” And to think, Lena was having a slow day.

Alex , brave as she tried to be, was still a nervous wreck about facing Lena. Her steps were slow, measured as she gave herself some time to think, to prepare for what was to come. Sometimes, she truly hated that, no matter how strong she tried to be, she couldn't stop herself from caring, from worrying, from wishing others didn't have to go through heartache.

Lena stood up, crossing her arms. » “What do you want, mother?” Lena asked, watching Lillian walk around the room, picking up Lena’s empty bottle of whiskey. » “You shouldn’t be drinking.” » “Oh, so you’re the boss of me now?” Lillian smirked, getting the answer she wanted. Her daughter still had the fire in her eyes that she longed for her to have. » “It was not my intention to boss you around, as you say. Have you thought more about my proposition?” Lena reached over to her phone as her mother was busy surveying the room, calling the last person she called on her phone, for record purposes. She defiantly stared at the woman in front of her. » “Yes, and the answer is still no.” Lillian sighed. » “I mean, you’re already halfway there. You got rid of that wretched CFO. I’m glad she isn’t here making you soft.” » “Fuck you. Do NOT talk about her. Get the fuck out of my building.” Lena bristled at the mention of insulting Sam. » “Ahh.. so there are still feelings. If you take my proposition I can take those away from you. Just like I did with Cyborg Superman.” » “I’d rather die than join you, you sick, vile human!” Lena spat loudly. » “Fine then.” Lillian sighed, still carrying the whiskey bottle, she threw it to the right of Lena’s head, hitting the wall, glass shattering everywhere like a broken scene. She pulled out a revolver, aiming it at Lena’s head. Lillian raised her voice, echoing across the office, and the entire top floor of L-Corp. “You want to die? Let’s see you say no now!” Lena walked, calmly, towards her mother, ignoring the fast pace of her beating heart. She walked up to Lillian until she was three feet in front of her, stopping. A stand off between two Luthor women. How incredibly cruel. Lena smiled slightly, preparing for the worst. She thought about Ruby, her daughter. She thought about Sam. Oh god, Sam. She chuckled softly. » “Go ahead shoot me. Shoot your own daughter. I dare you.”

Alex noticed something was off as soon as she stepped into the L-Corp building. The atmosphere felt tense, the security guards seemed more alert than usual, and even the receptionist seemed coiled tightly with tension. A little digging an much flashing of her fake FBI badge got her little answers, nobody seemed sure of what was the problem, other that there had been some kind of breach. Her mind immediately went to Micah and her hackles rose. Alex took charge, barking orders so loud and confidently that people scrambled to obey. Upon reaching the to floor, the sight that greeted her didn't give any reassurance, and by then, her senses were in high alert. "Special agent Alex Danvers. Report. Now." She demanded from Lena's secretary with a glower, leaving no room for argument as she flashed her badge, yet again. Lillian Luthor. Of course it was her.

Lena looked at Lillian in the eyes, sensing the hesitation. “Oh, so you’re not going to shoot? Well, then. You’re like a poor, poor snake, writhing blindly, looking for prey. But when you attack, you choke them to death, slowly. A coward’s way to kill. You’re no match for a PHOENIX.” At the safe word, Lena’s bodyguards were alerted immediately, but Lena had calculated that it would take them exactly 45 seconds until they got the office. 45 seconds to stay alive. Lillian slapped Lena with the revolver hard. » “You watch your tone you ungrateful child! I will not hesitate hurt you, and anyone you love!” Lena quickly spit out the blood that pooled in her mouth, trying to buy time. 20 seconds. » “Fuck. You.” She didn’t even get the chance to wipe her jaw when a shot rang from the older Luthor’s weapon. A shot that was mere inches away from Lena’s head.

Alex looked around as suddenly Jess started mobilizing people, whispering desperate orders into her every present bluetooth, and she wanted to desperately understand. "What the hell is going on?" She demanded, glaring at the secretary until she broke, relaying what she knew of the situation and what the commands meant in rushed sentences. Alex was about to give her own orders, when a shot rang out, silencing everyone except for Jess' loud gasp, one Alex hardly heard as she ordered her to disarm the electronic lock so Alex could barge in, gun drawn. From there on, it was all a blur of movement and sound. Before she could speak up, a loud bang broke the silence, light blinded her and pain exploded on her side. In the few seconds it took her to react, there was smoke filling the office and she scrambled blindly, trying to reach Lena and shield her with her body. More voices filled the space and Alex yelled desperately for the guards to stop Lillian, but it was too late. Glass shattered, muted shots rang out, and by the time the smoke started clearing, Lillian was gone, and Alex was left aiming at the now broken glass wall. "God dammit!"

Lena was left coughing, feeling pain all over, but especially her left arm. She groaned in pain. She opened her eyes slowly, seeing a blurry, slim figure with a gun drawn. She had short her, so she could only guess one person. “A..Alex?” She looked down at her upper left arm, noticing a the pain was stemming from a certain spot. Noticing a pool of red staining her white blouse in that area, she realized she had been shot. “Fuck..” She cursed herself for being so stupid. She didn’t realize Lillian would escalate things to this point. She had so many thoughts run through her head. Where was Lillian? Is that really Alex Danvers in her office with a gun pointed at the window? Damn, she had to buy yet another window? Lena thought about her next steps, realizing that whoever the hell Alex Danvers worked for would need all of the evidence. She thought back to her phone, and who she had called who probably heard all of the commotion. She was trying to sit up slowly, screaming in pain when she didn’t realize she had moved her arm. Feeling herself fading fast and passing out from the sudden pain, she said the only name on her mind at the moment, realization dawning fast that the person in her mind was the person who had heard it all. “Sam….” And with the name of her now ex-lover leaving Lena’s lips, Lena fell back to the ground and her world faded to black.

Alex ignored the burning in her eyes and the sharp pain on her side as her eyes swept the room, body still coiled tightly and ready to strike if needed. It seemed Lillian had simply ran, so the situation was under control for the time being. Pulling out her phone, she called in the situation, talking in codes only the D.E.O. dispatcher would understand and relay appropriately, then turned back to the guards. "Secure the building, nobody leaves until the police and FBI arrives, understood?"Hearing the groan of pain, Alex turned to the figure still laid on the ground by her side, and immediately leaned down, gun holstered quickly to free her hands so she could check Lena over. "Jess? Since I'm guessing this isn't a first, is there a panic room and maybe a full medical kit at hand in here?" Unsurprisingly, both things were at the ready before she could even ask, and all Alex could do was shake her head at the ridiculously prepared ways of the youngest Luthor. "Alright, someone help me move her, I'm afraid my ribs aren't up to par right now." When the D.E.O. and police arrived, she was quick to give her report, but denied any medical help for herself to instead go tend to Lena. The CEO had been laid to rest on a small but comfortable bed in the panic room adjacent to her office, a medical bag ready and waiting for her. "Alright, Luthor, you just keep sleeping while I patch you up." And so she got to work, ripping what was left of Lena's ruined sleeve and cleaning the wound. She ended up having to apply more than a few stitches, but Lena would make a full recovery. A shot of painkillers, one last clean up, and all that was left to do was wait for Lena to wake up. And all the while, Alex pointedly ignored the raging pain on her side, and the constant ringing in her ears that barely let her hear her own breathing.

Lena was dreaming of being a normal woman in her twenties who just finished a date with a beautiful girl she just met. She was feeling happy, and was feeling better about herself than she did in ages. Everything was just so..new. So fresh. “Lucy…” she said out loud, smiling at the girl who had promised her a second date. She took in the smell of the city, when all she smelled was sterile air and dried blood. She felt herself falling again.. “No…no…no!” — Lena shot up quickly, groaning loudly. She opened her eyes, looking over to see Alex freaking Danvers next to her, watching her with her stupid gorgeous eyes. Green eyes meeting hazel, she decided to say what was on her mind, wanting to show the FBI agent that she was just fine. “urghg. Hi.”

Alex was in the process of trying to inspect her own injuries - the next day she was going to be in so much pain - when Lena stared stirring. She wasn't able to make out the words, not with Lena still so groggy, but it wasn't hard to guess what she had tried to say. "Welcome back." She merely said a little too loudly, pulling down her shirt to cover her torso from where it was bunched up just under her chest. "You shouldn't move too fast or you'll end up pulling your stitches." Frowning at the strange feeling of not being able to hear herself all that well, the agent cleared her throat, trying to modulate her voice. "I guessed you wouldn't like if I let them take you to the hospital, so I did my best."

Lena was still slightly mad at the universe that led Alex to be her savior. Realizing that the woman saved her, she sighed. “How long was I out? What happened?” She looked at Alex and scrutinized her. “And what the fuck’s wrong with you? You don’t look too hot, Danvers.” She grunted lowly as she sat herself up. She stared at Alex. Really stared. “Thank you for not taking me to the hospital. But I definitely think you need one.”

Alex shrugged, though immediately regretted it as the movement made the still distant ache more pronounced. "Only about an hour and half. You went into shock and passed out not long after Lillian quite literally vanished. How much do you remember?" Scoffing at the biting observation, she braced against the back of a chair, knowing that if she were to sit down, standing up would be a pretty painful ordeal once her body cooled off. Still, she remained strong, not showing weakness in front of someone she didn't know what to call anymore. "I'm technically a doctor, so."

Lena raised her infamous eyebrow. “And I’m a CEO. Which means I can call bullshit on the fact that you’re perfectly dandy by the way you sound like a talking roller coaster, Agent Idiot.” Still passive-aggressive towards her, Lena sighed, defeated. “She wasn’t supposed to take it that far. She never did before...fuck I’m stupid.” Lena was just mad at everything. She looked at Alex. “And fuck, you really need a doctor.” Reaching out into her pocket to pull out her cell phone, she realized it wasn’t there. Her eyes widened. “Fuck, me.” Lena sighed, not even wanting to get into the fact that a certain someone probably heard the entire situation. She decided to table that later. Reaching into the panel in the safe room, she quickly dialed a number, followed by a code and a non emergency destress signal. “My private doctor’s coming up. Don’t argue or else I’ll punch you. And I don’t think you want that, in this state that you’re in.”

Alex still didn't know how to act in front of Lena, not anymore, so she stood silently as the young CEO rambled. She missed some words here and there, but Alex was sure it wasn't anything overly important, if Lena being reasonably calm was anything to go by. She was tired and confused, angry and just plain sad, so the next words that tumbled out of her mouth weren't all that surprising. "Color me surprised, you're actually applying logic and processing the actual facts before wildly swinging this time?" She taunted, testing her jaw where the bruise form their last encounter was still a glaring purple. "Maybe there's hope for you, after all."

Lena sighed at the private doctor who came into the room and smiled politely. “Harry, turn around.” The doctor did as he was told. “Hey Alex! Can you hear me now!” She yelled out. Feeling the frustration and her ego taking over..that the woman in front of her kissed HER girl. She took a swing at Alex’s face, making sure to punch the ofher side of the her jaw. “How’s fhat for logic and processing the actual facts?” Dusting off her hands, she slowly stepped over Alex. “I’ll be in my office, or what’s left of it, at least, Harry, take care of her and give her what she needs. Most likely an ice pack and an ego booster.” She walked away without a second glance at the Agent, hearing the doctor tend to Alex. Lena felt..better. Much lighter. Like all of the anger washed away.

Alex being in the poor state she was currently in, was too late to react. She was only mildly startled by the outburst, but what she wasn't expecting was to be punched a second time. And to do it when she had her shirt halfway off and about to be checked by a doctor after saving her life? That was a little too much for Alex. "Harry, is it?" She said with forced politeness, gently pushing him to the side as she stood up. "I don't believe your services will be needed anymore. Or, actually? Probably stick around, you might have a new patient soon. Now, if you'll excuse me..." Not bothering to fix her plaid shirt properly, Alex marched into the wrecked office with sure strides, blazing eyes set on one - very smug looking - Lena Luthor. "If the shit you pulled back there is what you call logic, you have another thing coming, Luthor." The anger and pain from the past few days came back to the surface with a vengeance, n her body shook with barely repressed aggression as she stopped Lena before she could sit down, pulling her close roughly and spitting a mouthful of blood to the side. "If I was the asshole you accuse me of being, I would be threatening you with charges for assault to a federal agent, but let's forget about that for a moment, miss fucking victim, and settle this right here, right now." With a strength that didn't quite fit her looks, she pushed Lena back, sending her stumbling against her desk. "Where do you get off acting all high and mighty after all the shit you've pulled!"

Lena cried out in pain, falling against the desk on her butt. Listening to Alex’s words, she knew she did wrong. Tears automatically started falling down her face. Here was a nice woman in front of her who just saved her life, yet Lena didn’t see it. All she saw was red. Because the same woman that saved her was the same woman that kissed Sam. “I don’t...I don’t know. I can’t.. i can’t think. I lost her.. I just.. I feel so lost.” Lena was full on hysterical at this point. “I don’t know anymore! I don’t know what Ruby wants! I don’t know what I want! Sam doesn’t want me! And you.., god why are you still here too?! You should’ve left me to die at the hands of my mother. Why are you here?! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!” Lena full on roared, standing up, broken, bloodied, and bruised. She turns around to face the broken glass, her balcony rails torn by Lillian’s escape. She slowly began walking towards the edge. “What does anyone want from me...I’m a Luthor..I’m nothing.” One step. One step was all it was going to take.

Alex was, yet again, at a complete loss. For the third time in a matter of days, Lena managed to almost knock Alex on her ass solely from whiplash. She wasn't equipped to deal with so many emotions at once, she wasn't used to having to look and care after so many people at once, and the strain she felt was becoming so strong, it almost felt like physical pain. Eyes widening as she realized where Lena was headed, she was quick to lounge for her, wrapping deceptively strong arms around the woman's body and pulling her back, away form the shattered glass wall and the balcony just beyond. "What the f-..." She said in a gasp, pushing Lena to sit on the couch and standing in between her and the balcony, eyes wide with incredulity and fear. "Just... Please tell me you weren't about to do what I think you were!"

Lena felt the strong arms embracing her, groaning in pain at the pressure on her injured arm. She was breathing heavily, willing herself to calm down. She took deep breaths and stared at the floor.

“…I was.” Lena looked up, green eyes boring Alex with a type of hidden anger that could chill to the bones. “And you shouldn’t have stopped me.” Lena stared off to the side, avoiding Alex’s stare and took a look at the broken balcony. “I’ve got nothing. Leave me be. Your services are no longer needed DEO Agent Danvers.” Lena decided to divulge the bit of information she had gathered from Lucy’s confidential file to mess with Alex. She just needed to piss her off enough so she would leave and let Lena stew in peace. It worked every time, Sam being one of the many victims to Lena’s evasion strategy.

Alex scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. Was she bothered by the fact that Lena knew about the D.E.O., of course, but right now, she had bigger things to worry about. Lile the fact that, had Alex not been fast enough, Lena would be little more than a rather gory stain on the pavement. "Oh, cut your shit out, the tough, intimidating facade might work in the conference room, but to me it's just plain adorable." Running a hand through short locks, the agent started pacing, breathing heavily like a caged animal. She was this close to losing her cool and grant Lena her death wish. If only she was colder and her heart wasn't in turmoil for more than one person involved in this whole mess. "I can't with you all. I just can't fucking deal with all this bullshit! Are any of you even thinking or Ruby? Do you even fucking care about the only innocent here at all?" Alex exploded, frustration getting the best of her as angry tears sprung to her eyes, tears that would never fall. "I'm trying. I'm trying so fucking hard to help keep everyone together, even when my own marriage is on the line, yet you all keep behaving like fucking spoiled children!"

Lena stared at Alex for the longest time. In a calm, deathly low voice, she began. “If you can’t deal with ‘us children,’ whoever else the fuck you’re talking about, then LEAVE ME ALONE. And don’t you DARE bring Ruby into this! She may be MY daughter but YOU! YOU’RE TAKING HER AWAY FROM ME! I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING DANVERS!” Lena all but screamed at this point. She stood up and walked towards Alex, pointing a finger at her chest. “I’m a Luthor. You’re married to a Super. Get the FUCK away from me. YOU ALREADY TOOK MY DAUGHTER’S LOVE AWAY FROM ME WHAT ELSE ARE YOU GONNA TAKE? SAM? MY FRIENDSHIP WITH YOUR WIFE?! WHO ELSE HUH?!” She was finally letting out all of her emotions. She was done bottling them up inside. She wanted to release it all Lena hit rock bottom so low that she couldn’t even see the light at this point.

“You want me to get myself together?! How can I do that when I’ve got NOTHING! RUBY LOVES YOU. RUBY LOVES SUPERGIRL. She doesn’t need me. Sam’s healing and wants to try again but I can’t stop seeing her kissing you every time I look at her face. I’m messed up. She’s healing. We won’t work.” At this point Lena’s facade is breaking bit by bit. “I’m a good for nothing Luthor. They’ve realized that. For sure.”

Alex refused to back down, to even sway in place as Lena invaded her space, as she poked angrily at her chest. If taking the tirade herself meant nobody elsa had to, then she would happily stand and take it. Lena needed this, needed to vent her frustrations, anger and pain, that much was obvious, and Alex had faced much worse from people she loved way more. Lena was, at one point, a tentative friend at best, and Alex lamented in silence for the friendship that she felt slipping away. She had tried for Kara, but had stayed for Lena. Now... Now it was likely all gone. Relationships were truly not her forte. "Taking her away from you? Are you really that daft, Luthor?" She asked with honest incredulity and confusion. "Unlike you, I've been trying to get Ruby to stop blaming you and Sam for breaking up a family. I didn't even blame Sam for kissing me, I tried to explain why she did it to a kid that thought it was all her fault. She was blaming herself for everything and at the very first chance you had, what did you do? You blamed Sam. You put her against her own mother, and painted yourself as the victim instead of trying to help her understand. Fucking bravo for that gigantic pile of bullshit, Luthor, but the victim card is getting old." Oh, how did she wish she had a cigarette just then, Kara hated that she smoked occasionally, but some situations called for it desperately. Taking a deep breath and closing her hands into fists tightly, Alex fought to keep her own emotions in check. Fought against every instinct to answer to Lena's scathing words with her fists, fought to keep Lena together. It was then that the anger washed away just enough to let sadness take its place. It was with that sadness that she looked at Lena, truly looked at her, and allowed herself to feel. "I've been doing my best to help Sam see past all the hurt and fear, to help her stand against het paranoia. I've tried to give Ruby some hope, some answers. You can hate me all you want, but I'll be damned if I dont stand in your way if you ever try to pull another stupid stunt. You won't go down unless you take me with you, and don't think I'm doing it for anyone but Sam, Ruby and Kara, because between you and I there's nothing left to say. You're so much more than a stupid, worthless name, otherwise you wouldn't have so many people standing in your corner and I truly wish you could see as much." Ending her tirade with a heavy sigh, she went to keep vigil next to the balcony, pulling out her phone to send some urgent texts. "And don't worry, I won't tell my wife you threw her trust in you back on my face, but you will have to deal with all the legalities of knowing about the D.E.O. and my involvement with the organization." And Alex was simply... Done.

Lena stopped. For the first time in a long time she truly listened. She truly felt. The past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, with her mother being back, losing Sam, losing Ruby, her unexpected friendship with Lucy, letting Sam go…again, it was all too much. Lena took every word, every emotionally hit thrown by the agent, every dig on her ability to function as a mother and a lover, her character, and she took it to heart.

And then she collapsed crying. Her facade had finally shattered beyond belief. So much so that her heart was simply unrecognizable. She clutched her heart tightly as she cried out all of her tears, her failures, her broken promises. She thought about all of the people she has yet to forgive from her past. And then she thought about all of the people she had hurt, and she cried for them too. She cried for the negative feelings she thrusted upon them. She cried for Supergirl. For Kara. For Alex. For Ruby. For Sam. And then she cried for herself. She was trying so hard to not be like her mother that she forgot what it means to be human, to allow emotions to pass through her heart in the hopes that it allows her to bond with others and feel strong connections. She realized by trying so hard to not let hatred plague her, she became so closed off that she became selfish in self pity. When the tears finally subsided and her breathing air became necessary, she looked up to the one person who stuck around, the one who saved her. The one who she fucked it up with because she was too blinded by hatred to see the light this woman had given her, and she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Alex stayed where she was, watching solemnly as Lena finally, finally broke down. Like the soldier she was, she guarded Lena's pain, allowing her a moment to truly feel while she stood guard, stoically protecting the fallen heiress in het time of weakness. She had been there and could relate in some small way. It was her on the floor crying years ago, when her choices finally caught up to her and sunk her until she touched rock bottom. Alex knew the pain and desolation, the feeling of loss and the desperate need for respite. Nobody had been there to give it to her, but Alex could give lena what she had lacked by choice. A barrier to protect her from the world and a name that simply wasn't hers, that didn't fit her at all. Pride was a powerful thing, though, and so she wouldn't hold Lena out of pity. Not now, not ever. Once it was over, still silently she looked around, spotting a box of tissues that had ended up on the floor and took a couple, only to approach the other brunette and offer them gently. "I acknowledge your apology, but I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. Clean yourself up and chin up, we're done here and you're taking the rest of the day off. I'm taking you home and my wife will pay you a visit later, she might be more useful in this situation than I am. Let's go.

#plena #para: lena #p: awst #tw: suicide attempt

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itsworn · 6 years

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Hot Rod Fever: The Brunk Family 1952 Chevy Pickup

It’s one thing when you do this thing we do to make a living—it’s often a struggle, but a passion-filled one nonetheless. But for the average blue-collar American who chooses to do this thing we do as a hobby, it can downright be impossible when times are tough. Family always comes first, but when the tight-budget purse strings allow, the ability for a family to partake as a whole—from the building of to enjoying the finished product—it’s nothing short of an amazing experience. Bruce Brunk’s tale of Hot Rod Fever is proof positive, as you’re about to read.

“I’ve been crazy about cars and hot rods since I was in junior high school. I guess it all started when my dad, Nick, bought a 1967 Chevelle that he started drag racing at the local quarter-mile dragstrip located north of my hometown of Ardmore, Oklahoma. I had ‘hot rod fever,’ even to the point of wallpapering my bedroom floor to ceiling (without my parents’ permission) with clippings from my dad’s hot rod magazines (also without permission). To say the least, he was NOT happy.

“During his years of racing, I worked with him every chance I had trying to learn everything that I could. While supporting three children and working a fulltime job, he did what he could working from a one-car garage on a shoestring budget.

“With my dad no longer drag racing and me getting my driver’s license, he handed the Chevelle down to me, which consisted of just a body and frame. Any money I earned working after school went into buying wheels, tires, interior, running gear, and so on. With the help of my older brother, Larry, and my dad, we got the car running and back on the road. After a while, I ended up returning the Chevelle to my dad and bought a motorcycle that I rode during my final year of high school.

“After high school, my car craze continued when I found a 1961 Chevy shortbed truck with a six-cylinder engine and three-on-the-tree transmission that I bought. It needed some TLC, so my friend painted it and I bought wheels and tires for it. This sealed my love for old Chevy trucks.

“This truck was eventually sold, and then in the early ’80s I bought a 1970 Chevrolet truck. This was what I was driving when I reconnected with a girl from junior high school, whom I would later marry. After we married, we sold the 1970. Because a coworker offered me decent price for the truck, I let her go.

“Within a few short years of being married, we had two daughters, Sarah and Rachel, which slowed my pursuit of my hot rod truck dreams. Even when the girls were just toddlers, I had my eye on a coworker’s 1962 Chevy shortbed truck. The day I saw it I told him them that if he ever decided to sell it I wanted first shot at buying it. Sometime later, my coworker stopped me and told me it was for sale. Without hesitation, I jumped at the opportunity and bought the truck. It was a clean, straight body truck with very little rust that ran very well. After getting it painted and then upholstered it became my daily driver.

“During this time when I was driving the 1962, I was working full time at the utility company and taking college courses in the evenings. I was commuting to attend these night classes. Sadly, at this point, the truck’s six-cylinder and three-speed meant it was just not practical. So, I had to sell the truck. Then, in 1992, I decided to pursue a pharmacy degree, so my wife and I sold our home, most of our belongings, and moved from Dallas, Texas, to Norman, Oklahoma.

“During these years, our transportation was limited to what we could afford and keep running, so buying and working on an old truck as a hobby was impossible. A friend in Norman knew how much I loved old cars and trucks, so he took me to see the cars that his father-in-law had in a shop. I’ll never forget walking into his shop and seeing two street rods that he had built: a 1933 Dodge coupe and a 1933 Dodge sedan. I knew then that after graduation from pharmacy school, I would again pursue this hobby of street rodding.

“After graduating from pharmacy school in 1997 and eventually settling back in our hometown of Ardmore, Oklahoma, I began looking for a home for my family. My wife always laughs when she tells people that I went looking for a shop that had a house that my wife might like, which is exactly what I did. After purchasing a home in 1999, I slowly began acquiring what I would need to start this hobby. I was starting from scratch; I had nothing except a small toolbox stocked with a few wrenches, ratchets, and screwdrivers. In addition to my fulltime pharmacy job, I also took on a part-time pharmacy job just to fund my hobby.

“At a Goodguys show swap meet in 1999, I spotted an original and complete 1939 Chevy coupe. A deal was made and the car was trailered home. With my dad’s knowledge and experience with old cars, we took her from a rusty, non-drivable relic to a beautiful street rod. This labor of love took us nine years, all of which were riddled with everything from our laughter to strong disagreements about the build. As soon as we finished the coupe, we started taking it to local car shows; this further fueled my hot rod fever and I knew that I still wanted to buy and build another old Chevy truck.

“In spring 2009 my wife and I went to a Pate Swap Meet in Ft. Worth, Texas. While we were there, I spotted a 1952 Chevrolet five-window truck. The truck looked sound, although not running, so we made a deal and hauled it home. Once we got the truck home and started disassembly, we uncovered more rust than we had expected. Very quickly we realized which original parts could be salvaged and reused along with which parts were too damaged to repair. Ultimately, we saved the cab, doors, hood, and frame—everything else had to be replaced.

“Whenever our schedules allowed us, Dad and I worked to disassemble the truck, label and inventory every usable part, and a made list of parts that we needed to order. After disassembling the truck we had the frame sandblasted and powdercoated. We installed a Heidts frontend, a rebuilt small-block 350 that we pulled from my dad’s 1991 Chevy Suburban, a 700-R4 transmission from Phoenix Transmissions, and a Ford 9-inch rearend from Currie mounted with a four-link from Total Cost Involved. With the rolling chassis finished, we assembled the truck using the surviving parts, new front and rear fenders, plus a new truck bed. Then, our attention turned to the truck’s body. First, Dad and I removed the original firewall and replaced it with a Bitchin’ Products firewall with a 4-inch recess, allowing us more room in the engine bay. After assembling the old and new body parts together, we began to get an idea of the truck’s stance and were able to better imagine what it would look like finished. With everything fitted, we then disassembled the truck in preparation for bodywork. Shortly after this, my dad developed health issues that curtailed his visits to the shop to work on the truck. Fortunately, he was always a phone call away when I had a question or a problem, but his absence slowed progress.

“While the truck was getting reading for bodywork, my wife and I discussed the paint color. I envisioned it being orange but she kept insisting that the truck had to be green. So, we looked at every car show we attended, in every car magazine, and even new cars on car lots in search for the perfect color. Bouncing between orange and green we finally settled on PPG Snake Skin Green. Now the truck is ready for a trip to the body shop—which turned into not one but four different shops.

“An acquaintance gave me the name of the Custom Colors body shop in Choctaw, Oklahoma, which became what was to be the truck’s first body shop stop. After a couple of months, minimal bodywork was completed when we learned that the owner had unexpectedly retired. So, we went to Choctaw, got the cab and other parts, and took them to a local Ardmore body shop owned by Kim Spiering who was willing to complete the bodywork. During this body shop stay Spiering completed the majority of the bodywork, installed door latches, primered the parts, and applied undercoating to the essential areas. It was during this time that I contacted Chris Frasher, a local painter who agreed to paint the truck. Frasher was owner of CF Designs, which was a one-man operation specializing in motorcycle painting but he agreed to paint the truck between motorcycle jobs. After leaving Spiering’s body shop, the truck went to Frasher’s shop to begin final preparation and then paint. However, the truck hood still wasn’t fitting well and needed to be fit to the cab. One day one of Frasher’s friends and a fellow automotive shop owner, Micah Newell, of Newell’s Customs in Healdton, Oklahoma, stopped by Frasher’s shop and inquired about the 1952 truck in his shop. Frasher shared that the truck was there for paint but more work was needed on the hood. Aware of Frasher’s heavy motorcycle jobs, Newell offered to tackle the truck’s hood. The Chevy was headed to her fourth body shop stop, Newell’s Customs, where Newell finished the remaining work on and mounting of the hood—then the truck was returned to Frasher’s shop for paint.

“As body and mechanical parts were painted and ready, I began assembly. This was a slow process that took the help of my family and several friends to complete. My brother, Larry, and I installed the front and rear glass. Then my son-in-law Kane Bass and daughter Sarah installed the corner cab glass. My daughter Rachel helped me connect the front fenders to the cab. After this, I tackled the wiring of the truck and finishing on the bedwood. With the wiring complete and ready for interior, my wife, Denise, and Larry helped me take the truck for upholstery to Shawn Cook, owner of Cook’s Auto Top and Trim. Before we arrived, my wife had already decided that she wanted the seats and carpet to be a rich brown color and she knew what she wanted the stitching pattern to be. In just a few weeks, Cook had installed the sound system and upholstered the truck’s interior.

“When it was time for the bed to be set on the frame, Larry, Kane, Frasher, and myself got the bed squared and mounted to the frame; then we added the rear fenders. At this point, the truck was mostly complete with minor finishing details remaining; and this put us just one week before the Goodguys show in Ft. Worth where the truck was scheduled to make its debut. Frasher and I (and my wife when we needed an extra set of hands) had a few marathon sessions finishing those last few details. (Her extra set of hands was always there throughout the nine-year build. In fact, my wife was there from start to finish all nine years, always willing to lend her hands, and she never minded crawling under the truck and getting dirty!)

“The day the 1952 Chevy truck rolled through the tunnels at Texas Motor Speedway and onto the infield there was a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment of a long nine-year process. Remember the 1967 Chevelle that started my love affair with Chevy hot rods? Well, my dad gave me the Chevelle he raced in the ’70s and it is sitting in my garage—it’s my next Chevy hot rod project!”

Facts & Figures

CHASSIS Frame: Modified stock Rearend / Ratio: Currie 9-inch / 3.70:1 Rear Suspension: TCI four-link Rear Brakes: Drum Front Suspension: Heidts IFS Front Brakes: Disc Steering Box: Power rack Wheels: 15-inch Wheel Vintiques Tires: BFGoodrich Radial T/A Gas Tank: CPP 19-gallon

DRIVETRAIN Engine: Chevy 350 Valve Covers: Cal Custom Manifold / Induction: Edelbrock AirGap / Holley 670 Street Avenger Ignition: MSD Headers: Sanderson Mufflers: MagnaFlow Transmission: Phoenix Transmissions 700-R4

BODY Style: Advance Design 1/2-ton five-window Fenders Front / Rear: Stock Hood: Stock Grille: Stock Bodywork by: CF Designs, Custom Colors, Kim’s Body Shop, Newell’s Customs Painted by: CF Designs Paint type / Color: PPG / Snake Skin Green Headlights / Taillights: Classic Parts of America Bumpers: Classic Parts of America

INTERIOR Dashboard: Stock, smoothed Gauges: Classic Instruments Air Conditioning: Vintage Air Wiring: American Autowire Stereo: Memphis Audio Steering Wheel: 1960 Impala repop Seats: Snowden Custom Upholstery by: Shawn Cook Upholstery Material / Color: UltraLeather / Brown Carpet: Brown square-weave

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