Author's Note: I have not written for this one super recently. This is due to a few factors. I've been writing for my new series: One Memory, which takes place after Fast 6 and is centered primarily on Letty and her relationship with Dom and the others. The other reason is I now have a job for which I am training, so expect me to be a bit slower in general. This was an idea I had. Papi/Daughter moment. Enjoy!
A Crash
Dom was in the driveway washing his car when he heard the crash.
Letty was gone for the afternoon, out with Mia doing something or other, so he was at home in charge of their six-year-old daughter. She was more apt to want to play outside than lock herself up in her room or plant herself in front of the television, so he took the time to wash his car and keep an eye on her. He'd gotten her bike out of the garage, a shiny red little thing that she had outright refused to let him put training wheels on.
And she'd fallen more than once, and he'd been eagle-eyed whenever she'd take it out, staying close and worrying over every spill she had. But she'd gotten the hang of it for the most part by now and would happily ride up and down the block for hours.
So he'd left her to it, watching as she rode past the driveway every couple of minutes, listening to her laughter and the sound of her little voice as she sang to herself in Spanish. She'd greet all the neighbors who came outside cheerfully, more than happy to show off for whoever was paying attention.
Dom smiled as he sprayed down the charger with the hose, but he was quickly dropping it when he heard the little scream followed by the loud thud.
Dom ran down the driveway to the front of the house, his eyes scanning.
Two houses down the little red bike was on its side, one wheel in the air spinning slowly. It was half-leaning against the side of a dark green van. His daughter was only a foot or so from the bike, where perhaps she had been thrown, pushing herself up off the sidewalk. Her knees were bloodied, as were her hands. As Dom went to her side he could see that there was blood on her lips too, and her eyes were teary, though she was stubbornly trying not to cry, sniffling and staring down at her hands in some state of shock.
"Hey, hey," he murmured, gently sliding his hands under her legs and around her little back to lift her up. "You're okay right? Let's go inside and get a better look at you… get you patched up."
She looked up at him with her big eyes, her face scrunching up. For a horrified moment Dom thought she was going to start crying, but then she spit into her hand, a bloody little tooth. She stared at it, tears making silent tracks down her cheeks.
Dom abandoned the bike for the moment, carrying her back into the house through the front door. He took her into the downstairs bathroom, sitting her on the countertop beside the sink. He grabbed a little paper cup.
"Drop your tooth in that."
"Do I get a dollar?" she sniffled.
He had to pause to keep from laughing. "I'm sure you'll get money under your pillow for your tooth, baby girl. Let's get you cleaned up."
"It hurts, Papi," she complained, but sat still as he washed off her hands gently in the sink, using a soft cloth to wipe away the bits of dirt and gravel.
Luckily under the dirt her hands were only scraped up. Dom sprayed them with first aid spray to numb the pain and disinfect them. The little girl squirmed and waved her hands around until the stinging went away.
Next, he turned his attention to her knees. He used the soft cloth to dab away the blood and dirt and his daughter squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering pitifully about how much it "hurted". These were also sprayed, then he dug around in the cabinet for her superhero band aids. The biggest ones had The Hulk on them and she pointed to the picture as he gently smoothed them over her knees.
"Hulk gets stronger when he's angry, Papi," she told him, as he filled a new cup with water and passed it to her.
"He does, doesn't he?" he asked. "Now swish the water around in your mouth and spit it into the sink. You've got blood from where you knocked your tooth out."
She turned to look at herself in the mirror, opening her mouth wide to see the missing tooth, just to the right of her two front ones. She stuck her tongue in the gap, then sipped at the cup, swished and spat.
"Yucky," she told him, watching the blood go down the drain.
He had her rinse again, then lifted her down from the counter. "We'll leave your tooth here for now. Just remember it before you go to bed tonight."
"I want to tell Mami!" she said, hopping out of her bathroom with him at her heels. Then she tilted her head to look up at him with a sort of measuring gaze. "Can we get ice cream?"
He smiled down at her. "I think that more than deserves an ice cream."
"I hardly cried at all, Papi," she told him, reaching for his hand.
"I know. But it's okay to cry a little," he told her as she tugged at his hand until he reached down to pick her up. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin against his shoulder.
He took a moment to relish in the feel of her little arms around his neck, smoothing a hand over her dark hair. She tried so hard to be brave and strong, but she was still his little girl at the end of the day. She still needed the comfort of a hug.
"Do you want to take grandpa's car to go get ice cream?" he asked, carrying her out to the driveway. The Charger was often left in the garage, not used for regular driving. But on special occasions he pulled it out.
"Yeah!" she cheered, arms in the air.
"Okay." He set her down. "I'm going to move my car so I can pull it out of the garage. Why don't you go get your bike to put away?"
"Okay!" She ran off, her injuries nearly forgotten.
Dom smiled after her, pulling his car out to park it alongside the curb. Then he walked up to open the garage just as the little girl was dragging her bike around the corner of the house.
"Papi!" she called, looking forlorn. "It's broked!"
He went to help her, picking up the bike easily to examine it. The front wheel was deflated.
"It's okay. We'll get a new tire on the way back from ice cream, okay? I'll fix it."
She smiled up at him brightly, with her new grin missing one of its teeth.
"Okay!" she chirped, then trotted over to the garage. She pressed her palms against the side of the charger, looking hopeful. "Can I sit up front?"
"You can sit up front," he relented, putting the booster seat in the passenger side for her. She eyed it with some disdain, as she did all things that she claimed were "for babies", but her excitement over the front seat overrode that and she quickly climbed in to buckle up, swinging her legs impatiently.
Dom went around to get into the driver's seat after closing her door. He put on the radio for her and backed out of the driveway, heading down the street towards the main road. He could see his daughter mimicking steering out of his peripheral vision and chuckled faintly. She definitely had driving in her blood. Driving and fearlessness. There weren't many six-year-olds who would have had such a crash on their bike and hardly cried over it. Dom was certain that she wouldn't hesitate to get back on the bike the next chance she had.
She was like both her parents in that. And that made him proud at the same time it worried him. But at least she wasn't behind the wheel of a car just yet.
"How did you crash your bike?" he asked her as he pulled down the street towards her favorite ice cream parlor.
She glanced at him, thoughtful look on her little face, then tucked her tongue into the gap where her missing tooth was. "I was going too fast, Papi," she finally said, blinking at him as if the answer was obvious.
"Too fast?" he asked, arching a brow. "Are you sure that was why?"
"Well…" she murmured. "Too fast to stop!"
"You need to slowly let yourself come to a stop. Don't squeeze your breaks all the sudden. Is that what you did?"
She frowned to herself, looking uncertain. "Maybe….?"
"Next time just stop pedaling until you slow down," he suggested.
"Okay, Papi." She smiled up at him. "Do you drive a bike too?"
He laughed softly. "Not really. When I was your age I did. But I have cars now."
"I want a car too," she said.
"You'll have one someday. For now you learn how to not crash your bike."
She pouted at him but then he pulled up in front of the ice cream place and she quickly forgot about it, unbuckling herself and hopping out of the car. When Dom came around she grabbed onto his hand excitedly, tugging him towards the window where the line was.
"Can I get a waffle cone, Papi?" she asked, bouncing on her toes.
"Sure can," he agreed.
They bought their ice cream and walked to the nearby park where they sat in the grass under the shade of the tree and watched people. She got chocolate ice cream all over her face and melting down her arms, eating off the bottom of the cone first and making a mess that made him groan in frustration. A stack of napkins later and she was dry, though still slightly sticky as they made their way back to the car. She hung on his arm and skipped along, wired on sugar and her own endless supply of energy. However on the drive home she crashed from the sugar-high, dozing off in the cherished front seat. Dom stopped at a red light and looked over at her with a smile.
Being a dad was definitely one of the best things he'd ever done with his life. And some days it was almost as exciting as life used to be.
Almost.