Disclaimer: I don't own Die Hard, the characters, or anything else related therein. I wish I did though! I'm not making a profit from this, and the story is purely for entertainment.
A/N Yep, another Die Hard story! I loved in DH4 how Lucy was so much like her father, and it got me thinking, what other times that we don't see does she show she is truly John McClane's daughter? I bet there's a ton, and these are some of the times I've come up with on my own.
"Lucy isn't responding to the antibiotics as well as we had anticipated," the older woman informed John and Holly McClane, her eyes sad and her voice grim. There was more, of course, about how Lucy being born a couple of weeks early, while not considered a true premature birth, it had made her more susceptible than other newborns to infection, and that her immune system wasn't developed enough.
They both understood the message the doctor was trying to convey, that despite the hospital's best efforts, there was a good chance that Lucy might not make it through the next 24 hours.
A few hours later, John sat in the nursery next to his daughter's hospital crib, his dark green eyes fixed on the small wrinkled face, closed eyes, and mass of tubing going from her nose, mouth, and arms. These things were doing her best to help keep her alive, unnatural as they appeared, and even so, apparently it just wasn't enough.
He reached down, tenderly brushing his finger across her forehead before settling it in under her hand, so that her fingers (god, they were so small, so fragile) wrapped around his.
"Hey baby girl," John whispered hoarsely, resting his chin on the edge of the bed rail as he spoke. He glanced quickly around the room, leaned in a little closer toward Lucy, "Listen, I know these doctors are doin' their best, but they don't know you, not like I do. They don't think you can fight your way through this, but I know you're a fighter, not a quitter. I've known it from the moment I hugged your mom too hard and you kicked me in the stomach to show how much I'd pissed you off."
A broken smile appeared on John's face at that memory, right before a sound that teetered between a laugh and a sob escaped his throat. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, trying to regain control of his emotions. After a few moments, he'd recovered enough to speak again. "So, uh, listen, Lucy… just because things are sucky right now and those asshole doctors don't think you can do it, it doesn't mean you should just give up, you know? You can always try to fight, no matter what the situation, or what anyone else says. You can fight to survive, just to prove everyone wrong." He paused, then corrected with a watery, lopsided grin, "Well, everyone but me."
Little Lucy stirred and her grasp tightened on his finger, ever so slightly, barely even a whisper of touch but John knew he'd felt it none the less.
"That's my girl."