[A/N] Trigger Warning for discussion of Dr*g Use and C**cer. Aside from that, major spoilers for Joanie's character. Stay safe and enjoy this little Father's Day special!

"I don't hafta listen to you! You're not my mama, so I can do whatever I want!" the little girl grumbled, jumping on the couch angrily.

"Look, Joanie, we know we're not your parents, but we ARE the ones taking care of you, and we want what's best for you. You have to go to school," Marcus Moore sighed, rubbing at his temples.

"Nah! I ain't gotta do nothing, Uncle Marcus! Nonononono!" she started squealing, leaping onto the ground and stomping her feet with as much force as a six-year-old could muster.

"You're going, little missy, and that's final," Rafael responded sternly, grabbing the flailing girl by the armpits and wrestling with her to get her school clothes on as she screamed.

"The neighbors are gonna think we're hurting her, I swear," Marcus fretted.

"The neighbors will understand. They had children. Maybe not one QUITE so fiery, but..."

"Stop acting like you're my mama! You're not my MAMA! Take me HOME!" the girl shrieked in the midst of her tantrum.

"C'mon, Jojo, your mama left us in charge for a while. I know you don't wanna go to school today, but it's important for you to learn! Think about it. You're learning to write! Once you know how, you can get a diary and write all of your secrets in it. You can even have one with a lock," Marcus incentivized.

"Imma write all about how shitty you are!"

"Young lady, that's enough! No screen time today!" Rafael put his foot down, kissing the top of his husband's head.

"I can't believe she learned all of that from my sister. She's only six," Marcus sighed despairingly over the wails of his niece.

One fraught drive to school later, during which the struggling couple ignored the yells until they slowed to a stop, Joanie was dropped off despite her best efforts. The battle was over.

The two men took time to finally just breathe. "How are we gonna handle this?" Rafael asked, tugging at his hair.

"I don't know. But we have to. My sister knew she couldn't care enough for this kid, so now we have to try our best. Joanie deserves a real home and a real family. We knew what we signed up for when we took her in. We love her— all we can do is try our best." He nodded resolutely, summoning up all of his courage. Neither were ever ones to back down from a challenge— and this one involved family.

...

"We found her!" a neighbor bellowed.

"Oh, thank God!" Marcus cried out, trying to swipe tears from his eyes as the ten-year-old grew in his vision. Both men ran to her frantically, and she seemed to flinch in anticipation. "What were you thinking?! You worried us sick!"

Her expression was forlorn. "I-I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have gone anywhere without telling you," she murmured genuinely, unable to look them in the eyes.

"Thank you for your help. Tell everyone she's okay," Rafael addressed the neighbor. With relief flooding through their bodies, the men guided Joanie back inside. She set her suitcase in her room and then shamefully plodded back out to the living room.

"I-I know. I'm grounded till the end of the millennium," she joked softly, trying to ease the tension in the room.

"Jo, what's wrong? Obviously, you wouldn't have tried to run away if everything was peachy keen," Marcus asked.

"Mom... told me she'd come back for me in a year. It's been four years. I... I know she's not gonna keep her promise, but I thought... I'd at least go talk to her. Maybe spend the night," she quivered, still refusing to make eye contact with her uncles. "I should have just talked to you, but you've never had a very good opinion of my mother... You always say nice things when I ask about her, but I've heard you talk in private. I just... I hate it, but I miss her." Her voice cracked at that last bit, but no tears threatened to spill. Joanie had never really cried. "I, um, brought my videos with me. I figured she might like to see the little movies my friends and I made. It might let her know that I'm doing okay."

Before she knew it, both were holding her close. "Jojo, we're sorry. We should've tried harder to talk about her with you. Maybe... we can try and hold a video chat with her at some point," Rafael offered.

The girl's eyes brightened, and a hopeful gleam filled them. "You mean it?! You'd really do that for me?!"

"For you, baby, anything," Marcus confirmed.

She shot straight onto her feet and hugged the two men. Rafael gave a brief smirk. "You're still grounded, though. But not till the end of the millennium. Just the end of the week."

She gave a fake, dramatic sigh. "That's fair, I guesssssss."

...

The twelve-year-old was hyperventilating.

She'd stayed up late watching movies, as she often did. But this time, she'd stumbled upon something she hadn't realized she didn't want to see. She shut off the tv and rushed to her bedroom, pulling the covers over herself and shuddering violently. She tried to get the images out of her brain-- the makeup team did a fantastic job in the worst way.

Lung cancer. Cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer. She couldn't help but look things up on the internet. "Ways tobacco can kill you." What commenced was a few hours of searches that made her heart pound and her breathing shake. She wheezed, incapable of deciding whether this was an asthma attack or a result of this anxiety spike. She stumbled to the kitchen and fumbled in the dark for her inhaler.

Suddenly, the light burst on, and it hurt her eyes. "Joanie? What's going on?" Rafael asked. She found and used her inhaler instantaneously before proceeding to give him a frantic hug. "Woah, woah! Is everything okay?"

The scenes in the movie flashed through her brain, followed by memories of her old house, hazy with smoke and thick with the scent of nicotine. "Do you or Uncle Marcus do your own hair?"

"What? Sweetheart, I don't understand."

"Shave my head."

"What?"

"I really, really want you to shave my head. I can buy wigs with my own money. Please?"

"Your hair is perfect just how it is," he commented, still drowsy. Maybe, but I might not have it forever. I'm gonna get cancer and the chemo will... "I'll have to talk about it with Marcus," he responded, still uncertain, but shaken by the pleading, desperate look on her face.

The next morning, she was sat down on a stool with a barber's cape drawn around her, and the soft humming of the electric shaver buzzed in her ears. Hair tumbled down in clumps beside her, onto the covered floor. In the past, she'd have been worried about her ear getting nicked or her neck getting scraped, but she leaned into the sensations and watched as her fear vanished, even if just for a moment of time.

"Do you wanna call your mom? Let her see you?" Marcus asked.

"No," she denied, "we don't have to. She'll just... she'll be high, anyway."

The couple looked at each other, slightly troubled. "Joanie, I know you said you'd buy your own wigs," Rafael mentioned, "but we'll pay for the first two."

"You don't have to... you do too much for me," she smiled wistfully.

"That's our job. To spoil our niece," Marcus winked.

"Daughter," she corrected.

They blinked. "You're sure?"

"Is that okay... Pops and Dad?" she asked with uncertainty. "I mean, you're better parents than my mom ever was, honestly." Marcus nearly started crying from pure emotion. "Ack! Dad! I didn't mean to make you--"

"We love you... daughter," Rafael tried experimentally.

"I love you, too. Thanks for everything."