#vic's fics

If someone had told Dinah a few years ago that she would be spending her afternoons running after a child rather than working or racing with Greaseball, she would have laughed in their face.

But here she was, racing around the entire yard after her daughter…who had not been named after her father by Dinah's choice.

"Greaseball please, Momma needs to stop, you must be tired by now," the Dining car panted, bending over to try and catch her breath, but the small Diesel ahead of her on the track refused to come closer, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

"Come catch me, Momma," the four-year-old taunted, "You're so slow,"

Dinah started to chuckle, "Don't let your dad hear you say that,"

Greaseball let out a small huff, "You need to be faster for when we race together."

"Oh, we're going to race together?" Dinah paused, "I'm not so sure if Dad is going to appreciate that."

Greaseball started to giggle, "I'm going to be faster than him, so he can't tell me not to race with you."

"Oh is that right?" the Dining car smiled, noticing her daughter was starting to slowly skate towards her.

"Yeah, and then he's gonna be the slowest, not me," the small Engine smirked, "So you need to get faster."

Before Greaseball had noticed how close she was getting to her mother, Dinah grabbed her, pulling her up onto her hip and making the girl giggle.

"Momma put me down, I can't race if I can't touch the floor," she spoke while laughing, her feet wiggling as she showed Dinah that her feet were a few feet off the ground as if Dinah couldn't tell.

"That's true," Dinah hummed, "and you can't race when it's meant to be nap time either,"

"But racers don't nap," Greaseball whined throwing her head back, "Dad doesn't nap."

Dinah shifted her daughter onto her hip more securely. "Oh Junior, you think your daddy doesn’t nap? He naps more than anyone I know."

Greaseball gasped, "No way!"

"Way," Dinah teased, "He might even be napping right now, so why don't we go back to the shed and check if he is,"

But that was nearly five hours ago, he had slept enough.

He had worked the night shift so Dinah knew for a fact he would still be sleeping, and it was the whole reason she had tried to get her daughter out of the shed as soon as she woke up.

Dinah knew Diesels were loud… but starlight, a Diesel preschooler was something else entirely, and it wouldn’t be fair to wake Greaseball up only a few hours after he came home exhausted.

"What do I get if you're wrong?" Greaseball asked taking hold of the collar of Dinah's dress with her tiny hands.

"What do you mean?"

"What’s my prize if you're wrong? It's called a bet," the Engine explained. I should get a prize!"

"A prize- remind me not to let CB babysit you anymore," Dinah muttered shaking her head, but she knew that it wouldn't last, somehow CB was the best babysitter for Greaseball, having her in bed before bedtime, and getting her to eat her greens without asking, it was like he was some kind of baby miracle worker.

It was also helpful that he would drop anything for the three of them.

"so I don't get a prize?" Greaseball asked after a moment with a pout on her face, "Uncle CB always gives me a prize if I'm right,"

"There's no prize June-bug, and Uncle CB needs to stop placing bets with you," Dinah sighed shaking her head.

Greaseball stared at her like she had left her daughter's fuel cap off and lost it. "It isn't just Uncle CB, Dad does it too, but he doesn't win a lot,"

It was lucky that their shed was now in view because Dinah was definitely waking up the older Greaseball now.

The sound of Greaseball's snoring hit them before they had even reached the bedroom, but as Dinah stood in the doorway with her daughter on her hip, she couldn't help but laugh. The four-year-old was staring shocked, her eyebrows almost reaching the top of her forehead.

"We'll come back to this conversation again soon baby girl, but right now I've got something to show you,"

Dinah spoke as she nudged the shed door open with her hip.

"You don't think Dad naps because you nap at the same time,"

Dinah who was now only a foot away from the bed wanted to yell for him to wake up but she was stopped by her daughter yawning, "Are you sleepy now, Junior?"

Greaseball hummed rubbing her eyes lazily, "cuddle?"

"We can cuddle my love," Dinah smiled, happily tucking the small engine next to her father before slipping in next to her, "Go to sleep sweetheart, we'll have lunch when you wake up."

Dinah couldn't help but yawn herself as she pulled the duvet scrunched up in Greaseball's arms to drape across them.

"You're lucky I said no betting," Dinah whispered pressing a kiss to the girl's temple, "Cause you owe me,"

Blood.

That’s what Sodapop saw as he pulled the shirt out from the bottom of the laundry basket., but something caught his eye just as he was about to toss it into the washing machine- there was blood on the sleeve.

It wasn’t a lot, especially compared to how much blood he’d often scrubbed off Johnny’s clothes, or hell, even Steve’s after he tripped down the stairs and busted his knee open. But it was still more than he wanted to see.

Darry had worn this shirt clean on, just yesterday. And it wasn’t like him to avoid re-wearing his clothes, even in the Tulsa heat while sweating his ass off. That meant one thing, he was trying to get rid of the blood as fast as possible.

Sodapop frowned, holding the shirt up to the light, checking for more stains. He wasn’t even supposed to be doing laundry tonight, Darry had said he’d take care of it after work. But after Soda spilled his drink on himself, he figured he’d do it instead and avoid Darry getting annoyed at him for being clumsy.

Which meant he wasn’t meant to find the stains…Darry was hiding an injury. 

With a sigh, he tossed the shirt into the machine. Hopefully, the blood would wash out. If not, he’d have to scrub it out later.