Chapter Text
"I'm about to lose my freaking mind!"
In all honesty, it was difficult to hear the kid over the familiar wail of a newborn. The dark circles under Lightning's eyes and the tension that held his shoulders captive spoke far louder than words ever could.
Doc should've known something was up from the texts alone. For the past two days, Lightning had been MIA, only responding occasionally to Doc's texts and never answering his calls. Even the texts were abysmal, filled to the brim with misspellings, punctuation errors, and missing words. Unusual, to say the least.
The crying baby in his kitchen explained it all.
"Sally was absolutely losing it," the kid began before Doc could even open his mouth, "so I told her to take the weekend. She booked a room at the Wheel Well and I haven't heard from her since. She's probably in a coma, and honestly, I wish I were, too. So, if you could, like, knock me out or something, that would be amazing."
Doc huffed, brows furrowed, but his rising grin betrayed his humor.
"Here, let me take her."
"Be my guest!" Lightning thrust the child into his mentor's arms and Doc couldn't help but chuckle. It still boggled his mind that the kid who had come barreling into town all those years ago was the proud father of a beautiful baby girl.
A change of scenery didn't seem to help much as little Paula continued her wailing, not seeing the difference between Doc's arms and Lightning's.
Solely because neither were her mother's arms.
The real difference, however, came in the fact that, while Lightning had no doubt endured hours of incessant screaming, Doc had spent much of the weekend in blessed silence.
A fresh face and full deck of patience.
"Sally gave me these," the kid said, pulling two full bottles of milk out of his bag and slamming them on the counter, "for the lot of good they've done. Gosh, I wish she could just tell me what she wants! Then I could get this all figured out, no problem."
Doc nodded, a smirk twisting his lips. "You've gotta know the tricks, rookie."
Lightning crossed his arms. "Oh, and you do?"
"Just because I never married doesn't mean I don't have experience with kids. Just look how well you and I get along."
"Hey!" Though the kid had been going for a glower, his incoming yawn took all the power of the expression. "Look, if you could just give me, like, ten minutes, I'll mow your lawn for the rest of the year or something."
"In case you’ve forgotten, this is Arizona, kid. I don't have a lawn."
Lightning shrugged, already making his way to the stairs. "I said 'or something,' didn't I?"
Doc simply waved a dismissive hand, turning his attention to the baby in his arms, his mind wandering to the first time he had heard the girl's name.
"Doc, would you be mad if I named my kid after you?" The question had been posed so casually one afternoon. The two had been enjoying a game of chess on the porch and Lightning had pulled the question out of the blue.
"First off, why on earth would I be mad?” The kid has only offered a shrug in response. “And second, last I checked, Paul isn't a fitting name for a little girl."
"No, not that." Rook took Bishop. "I was thinking like Paula or something."
Queen took Knight. "Check. I'd hope I wouldn't have to tell you that's a dated name."
"Oh, come on, it's a beautiful name."
"Suit yourself, rookie, but don't say I didn't warn you."
Not three weeks later, Doc had gazed down upon the newborn with unspeakable joy.
"Doc, meet Paula." The twinkle in Lightning's eyes had made Doc's own orbs moisten with unshed emotion.
"Shh..." he soothed the distressed child, grateful, not for the first time, that Paula was born during the off-season.
He wouldn't tell the kid he'd gotten her to calm down after a measly five minutes. There was no need to hurt the kid's pride that way.
When Lightning jolted awake hours later, dashing out of his old room—the one Doc had never had the heart to turn back into the guest room—and skidding to a stop in the living room.
"What? But... but how? How-How did you...?"
"I told you once, rookie," Doc replied with a grin, "you don't know all my tricks."
Lightning's gaze flitted to the clock as he carded a hand through his hair. "How long was I out?"
"Don't worry about it." Doc adjusted the sleeping bundle in his arms. "In fact, if I were you, I'd take advantage of this and go back to bed so you can shake that ghoulish look. Sleep-deprived isn’t a good look on you, son.”
"Haha, sure." But the kid failed to suppress a yawn. "Just... wake me up in ten minutes, okay?"
Doc felt his grin widen. "Sure thing, rookie. Sure thing..."