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Peter was nine years old with a plan. After having heard from his mom that Santa didn't usually bring presents to adults, he thought he would pick up Santa's slack and buy her one. (He knew Santa wasn't real, but he had to pretend for his sister's sake.) She was an alright mom as far as mom's went putting up with him and his twin sister.
It was easy to know what his mom wanted. There was a snow-globe in an old boring antique shop, that she always stared at whenever she dragged Peter there. Having saved up enough money from various house chores and odd jobs, he began his master plan.
Step 1 wait until his mom was asleep. That was probably the easiest part, she fell asleep right after putting him and his sister to bed (or so she thought!) and crashing on the couch. Step 2 write down the directions to get to the store, so he could follow them and get there. With his backpack, silver jacket, shoes along with flashlight, hat, and mittens plus additional supplies, Peter was ready to head out. Walking wasn't fun in December but at least it was in the fifties and not yet snowing.
It only took him roughly a half hour to reach the store, and right before they closed too! This mission was going to be a piece of cake which sounded awesome to Peter right now. As did a sandwich walking all that way had made him very hungry better yet even a Twinkie. As he walked into the store, he was greeted by Mr. Gerberman.
“Well hello Peter! What are you doing here so late? Is your mom here too?”
Peter put on a smile. He was on a risky mission and couldn't afford to blow his cover now. “She's outside in the car. I just wanted to buy this snow globe for her.” Picking said item off the shelf and carefully bringing it to the cash register.
Mr. Gerberman walked behind the counter with the use of his cane and raised an eye at that but didn't push for more info. He punched in the numbers on the old register and announced the grand total at $12.99. Peter felt confused.
“I thought it was $26.” At least that's what the sign said, and Peter could read quite well thank you very much.
Mr. Gerberman threw him a wink. “Christmas special sonny! I'm having a half off day for everything at the store.”
“Awesome!” Peter cheered as he thought. 'Now I can get something for Wanda and candy for me too.' He ended up getting his sister a diary that looked kinda like a spell book and some fudge for himself. Mr Gerberman rang him up and even wrapped the gifts up nicely for him to take home. He waved goodbye before pulling out his directions to get back. Fingers crossed him mom still hadn't noticed him gone and was still asleep back home.
Pulling out the directions he unfortunately underestimated how much the wind had picked up and felt the pages being torn from his hands. “No!!” Peter yelled chasing after them. Thankfully he was fast and caught up to them in a flash. However they managed to fly into a mud puddle making them near illegible.
“No no no no no no no.” He muttered going back to sit on a park bench under a street lamp to examine his lost cause of directions. Wiping them best he could Peter stared at them under his flashlight trying to remember what he said. In the dark things looked different than when he had started out. Staring and concentrating so hard he missed hearing the man come up behind him, until he cleared his throat. Peter screamed jumping away from the bench raising his flashlight as a weapon and keeping a firm hold on the wet papers.
“What the...don't sneak up on people! What do you think this is Halloween or something?”
The man simply stared at him unfazed. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”
Peter wanted to shoot back. 'What are you out here doing by yourself?' But stopped himself instead shaking his head. “Nope rule #1 don't talk to strangers.”
“Well you're technically talking to me.”
Scowling a bit Peter threw back. “Starting now goodbye dude.” His mom always told him the only people usually out super late were hobos, drunks, and dangerous criminals. This guy was kinda leaning towards the third choice.
The man sighed and took a seat on the bench. 'And wow he was not getting Peter's hints to walk away at all. “Erik Lensherr now we are no longer strangers.”
“Nope you're still strange and just as a heads up you would NOT want to kidnap me FYI. I'd be a really bad choice.”
“I have no plans to do that, but I can't help but ask. Why that would be?”
Trying to subtly shift over to put more space between them Peter answered. “One because my family is not rich, so there would be no ransom money in it for you. But two I can be really annoying if I want to be. Mom says I have a knack for it, like I could tell you in detail all about Miley Park's vomit last week during science class. She had eaten salad for lunch, so it was green with little bits of-”
“Okay that's enough thanks I got the point.” The man said, holding up a hand as if to halt anything further on that topic.
Peter grinned as if having been proven right. “Told you now shush I need to concentrate.”
“On?”
“Figuring out the directions I wrote down.” Peter said still studying the papers for a few more seconds before finally giving up. “Ah forget it I'm just going to wing it.” It was kinda what he did best. Stuffing the papers into his backpack Peter was about to leave before the man started talking again.
“I could give you a lift if you want?”
Peter scowled again before holding up two fingers. “Rule #2 never get in the car with strangers. This is like basic life rules 101. Are you going to offer me candy in a creepy white van too?”
The man looks frustrated but tired like his potential kidnapping plans weren't working, which Peter knows they won't. He warned him earlier to just walk away, and if he didn't Peter could definitely annoy him to death.
“I was only trying to be decent, because it's cold out. However, I suppose I can't blame you for being skeptical of my intentions. I applaud your self preservation instincts.”
“Okay, I'm not sure what the last part of that means, but it sounds like a good thing. So thanks I guess. Merry Christmas, dude.”
The man snorted in slight amusement. “First of all self preservation means a base protection instinct of one self. Please do not refer to me as dude Erik or Mr Lensherr is just fine, and last of all I don't celebrate Christmas. I'm Jewish, so I celebrate Hanukkah.”
“Oh really?” Peter perked up looking interested. “I am too, but my mom has us celebrating both because of my sister. She keeps saying we're missing out on something everyone celebrates.”
The man's lips did a weird curling thing at that. “You know you never did say what you were doing out here at this hour. However I imagine like every other child your age you've written a letter to Santa.” Saying his name with a displeased tone. Geez what a buzz-kill. Just because Peter knew Santa wasn't real didn't mean that this guy got the right to talk down to kids who did. Someone must have spoiled it for him really early on.
“Dude everyone knows Santa isn't real.” Well except his sister that or she pretended for the sake of it.
Before Erik could say anything to that Peter continued. “Not like Batman.” Proudly showing off the silver bat insignia on his T-shirt.
“Right of course.” In that adult tone that clearly he thought Peter was wrong and clueless.
Trying to ignore that Peter just again continued. “I mean he's definitely the coolest one, and he doesn't even have any powers! Just gadgets, stealth, and awesomeness.”
“I'm sure he manages well enough for a human.”
As Peter was about to ask if he had some problems with that. Also how dare he question Batman's skills. The guy zeroed in on his necklace with a scary laser like focus and his mood changed frighteningly fast.
In a low and serious voice he questioned. “That necklace where did you get it?”
Taking a step back and putting a hand on it Peter stuttered a reply. “It's I.. my mom gave it to me from my dad.” If this guy got violent Peter was pretty sure he could outrun him, but....in case he couldn't he felt himself reaching for the box cutter he carried in his backpack to warn him off.
At this the man's face grew even more white in the dim light and he looked absolutely shocked. Peter tilted his head. 'What was this guy's deal?'
“You okay dude? Are you going to faint? If so you should probably sit before you hit the bench.” Or he could hit the bench, and Peter could make a run for it. That would work too.
“I....I'm fine. Your mother what's her name?”
This set off warning bells again in Peter's head. 'Why would this guy want to know his mom's name?!' So he lied saying the first name that came to mind. “Lois,” as he wrapped his hand around the box cutter.
The man's eyes narrowed in suspicion before he could comment Peter continued. “Sorry I really have to go.”
“Wait!” Erik exclaimed moving to stand in front of Peter to block his path. “I believe I knew your mother. We grew up together. Magda right?”
Eyes widening because the man had guessed it right. It wasn't exactly a common name.
Pressing his advantage Erik continued. “I take it by your reaction that I'm right, and because of that I need to see to taking you home. She would never forgive me, if something happened to you.”
Peter took a step back and tried to think WWBD what would Batman do in this situation? Well that was easy drive the Batmobile home or call Alfred to do that. Hmm Batman probably wouldn't trust a stranger unless he was absolutely sure he could. If weird Erik claimed to be his mom's friend he would need to prove it. Then he would say yes to a ride home which would be nice because of how cold it was starting to get out here.
“If you really knew my mom like you say what's her favorite color?”
Erik's eyes widened slightly before relaxing. “Unless it changed she was always fond of purple or magenta.”
Peter scowled that was right unfortunately. Well the purple was at least. He'd never heard of magenta before and had no clue what it looked like.
“Okay got one right second question where was she born?”
“Dusseldorf.”
“Ha! Wrong the correct answer's Germany.”
“........Dusseldorf IS in Germany.”
Peter shrugged. “Well I guess without a world map we can't check that can we? I'll give you a half point, because it kinda sounds Germanish. But you have to get the next answer right or you let me leave.”
Erik didn't look particularly impressed at Peter's answer but remained quiet. Peter was beginning to think that was his favorite expression, but then again he didn't seem to have very many. Peter began to think of one final question that would really test weird Erik's mind.
“Okay I've got it if you get this right, then I'll go with you because it's a really hard question. What was my mom's nickname when she was my age?”
Here Erik actually smiled and Peter almost took another step back. 'So many teeth! It was a scary sight. Peter wanted the bored unimpressed expression back. “Kleine Maus which is German for little mouse. Her parents called her that, because she was so small and always adored the little field mice that we sometimes saw scurrying around the camps.” Erik raised an eyebrow. “Well did I pass your test?”
Hiking his backpack up further Peter shrugged. It was good enough for him, and he was cold. The answer seemed simple at this point earlier fears gone.
“Okay dude you pass where's your car?”
Erik making sure the kid (His son) was in sight began to lead the way to his Chevy Impala. He wasn't about to waste this opportunity and wanted to learn all he could including what the hell he was doing out alone in the beginning of winter at night! As that thought entered his brain he fought to keep the scowl off his face and felt some of the outer metal parts to the car began to vibrate. Breathing in and out he regained his sense of calm and they stopped. There would be time for those questions later.
Opening the door Erik let his son in (He really needed to find out what his name is) and then walked around to enter the driver's side door. Taking Peter's directions and studying them for a second, he turned to his miniature passenger. “Put your seat-belt on.” The kid crossed his arms expression unimpressed, well fine that made two of them. Not too mention he wasn't going to keep answering to dude.
“It's not that far, I don't need a seat-belt.”
Erik ignoring that used his powers to employ the seat-belt catching sight of his son's now gaping face. “As I said seat-belt on that's non negotiable.”
“You have powers? That's so cool! Can you move anything?”
“Anything that's metal or metallic based.”
“That's so awesome.” Peter breathed out in excitement.
Erik looked at his son with a smile amused at his enthusiasm.
“Man I wish I had powers. So does that mean you're a superhero?”
And just as quickly as it had appeared Erik felt the smile leave his face remembering the various years of Nazi hunting/killing, the justice/murder he finally got on Sebastian Shaw, and the unintentional shooting of his closest and only friend. No he would nowhere near qualify the kid's definition of the word.
“Not exactly but I have been curious what you name is?”
Peter tilted his head again before asking hesitantly. “Hasn't my mom ever talked about me?”
'Considering I haven't talked or seen her in 10 years it's a pretty solid no.' “We've lost touch over the years, but I'd definitely like to reconnect with her someday.”
“Well my name is Peter like Peter Parker only without the awesome spider powers, but I could still get bitten by a radioactive spider. At least that's what I'm hoping.”
Peter like Pietro which would be after Magda's father. It made sense, though Erik definitely preferred Pietro over Peter as the former was more unique. “You know it's possible you still may acquire powers in puberty. There's a chance you possess the X gene.”
“What's that?”
“It's what I have, and what allows me the abilities I do. If one of your parents is a mutant, and they possess the X gene. There is a high probable chance that you will too.”
Peter sighed slouching lower in his seat. “Well then I have no idea if I have it or not. My mom is human, and my dad is gone so I can't exactly go ask him.”
'Oh the irony.' Erik couldn't help but think derisively. “Does your mother ever talk about m- I mean your dad?”
Shrugging one small shoulder Peter answered. “Not really she kinda avoids the subject or gets really twitchy if I ask too many questions. She did say that he left in order to find himself whatever that means, and that he is probably back in Germany or Western Europe.” Here Peter leaned over slightly to whisper conspiratorially. “Personally I think he's either a Russian mob boss or the head of a mafia gang. It would explain why mom's nervous when I bring him up. His name is probably Vladimir or something, and I bet he lives in a mafia castle.”
Erik couldn't really say he knew how to respond to any of that other than wide eyed blinking. 'Did all children have these sorts of imaginations or just his.'
Mistaking Erik's silence for contemplation instead of bewilderment Peter continued in a normal speaking tone. “Oh yeah I've had a lot of time to think about this. There's no way mom would be so secretive, if the guy's just an honest librarian. He's definitely a crime lord, or maybe an assassin or a hit-man! Probably on the run from the law so no way to ask if he's a mutant or not, oh I recognize where we are now! Just follow this straight and we're the house with the mailbox 1492. It's the ugly yellow house on the right.”
Bringing back the fact that his son apparently walked all this way on foot brought back some of his initial irritation as well. “And why exactly did you walk all this way here alone at night? Do you have any idea just how dangerous that is?!”
Peter shot him an annoyed look like the reason was none of his business. “I was getting my mom a Christmas present. I would have found the way eventually, and I wanted it to be a surprise so it had to be at night obviously.”
Actively resisting the urge to continue arguing the stupidity of Peter's stunt was hard considering Erik could have easily been a pedophile or active serial killer, and then this would have ended a whole other way. 'At least Magda didn't condone this.' Not that he thought she would have. Erik didn't know if it made it better or worse, that she had no idea where their son was right now. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Peter yawn and subtly try to rub his eyes, so he let the matter drop.
“You can sleep if you want. I should be able to find your house from here.”
Peter turned his head to look at him. His eyes looked so very like his mother's despite the suspicion held in them. “You'll go straight there? I'm not going to wake up in Canada or in a witches' lair or something right? Because that would be very uncool.”
Erik almost snorted. “I promise no Canadian detours or to any witch contacts just straight home.”
Smiling slightly Peter shot him a thumbs up before closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep fairly quickly. This allowed the floodgate questions that Erik had first had to come pouring through. At least now he had time to reflect on everything. A son he had a son another child after the loss of his Anya. As tempting as was a notion to reject, he couldn't with the evidence and his instincts screaming at him.
Up ahead Erik caught sight of a yellow house alone by itself. Cutting the lights he pulled up just needing the moment to think and also study Peter. His hair a bright silver was a good indication of his possessing the X gene. He could maybe see a bit of himself in his features and initial wariness. But the rest of him? That seemed pure Magda the sass, the spirit, and kind heart as well. He didn't even have the chance to ask Peter any real questions about himself, and it bothered him that he was only just finding out about Peter's existence. Other than a preference for comic book characters Erik knew next to nothing about him.
'He could leave.' An impulsive thought sprang up in his mind. Take off right now with Peter and reveal their relation. Peter might forgive him even be made to understand. It might even be better this way, and it would be unbelievably easy.
Looking at Peter again before turning away and letting out a frustrated sigh Erik relented. He had given Peter his word and driving off wasn't the answer. This required further thought and contemplation. He would keep who he was to Peter a secret for now along with holding off on confronting Magda. Not to mention he needed to decide priority wise where the two of them fell in the midst of his plans for the brotherhood.
'What a shame this would have to be goodbye for now.' Erik thought before carefully grasping Peter's pendant. The one he would never forget creating for Magda the first time he told her that he loved her. He had forged it from exactly 21 different metals, and the pendant always sang to him when he was in really close proximity to it. Gently shaking Peter's shoulder he waited for him to wake up. His son woke with a start before finally recognizing where he was.
“Oh hey....you didn't lie that's cool and you found the house nice.”
“Very observant of you.” Erik answered dryly.
Peter gave him a weird look, as if trying to determine if he was being sarcastic or serious before giving up, unbuckling his seat-belt, shrugging, and grabbing his backpack. “Well thanks for the ride Erik I'll tell mom you say Hi. Try not to sneak up on any other people tonight.”
“Wait Peter,” Erik said putting a hand on Peter's shoulder to stop him from leaving. “Don't tell her about meeting me just yet. I want to keep it....a surprise.”
Peter's eyes changed from wary to excited. “Ah a secret? Dude I can totally keep a secret! I'm really good at that.” Peter proclaimed proudly.
Erik after studying him for a second and judging the sincerity gave a nod and short thanks.
Peter held out a pinkie in answer.
“What's this?” Erik asked with no small measure of confusion.
“You've never heard of a pinkie promise before?” Peter asked looking shocked. “You were my age at some point right?”
Biting back the automatic retort of 'obviously' he instead said. “No I've never heard of it.”
“You link your pinkie with mine and seal this as the most absolutes of secrets one that neither of us can break. It's a sacred tradition.”
Erik rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the fond smile stretching across his face as he wrapped his much larger pinkie around his sons smaller one. “There and neither of us will let your mom know you ran into me.”
Peter gave a small smile as well before turning to open the door.
“One more thing.”
Groaning Peter turned looking expectant, if slightly impatient.
“Take this.” Handing a scrap of paper with a bunch of numbers on it. “It's the best contact number to reach me, if you ever need to.” Erik had to cut himself off from anything anything further that would reveal too much.
“...uh thanks well goodbye Erik.” Peter echoed as he finally exited the car to sneak inside. The lights remained off and the surrounding quiet went undisturbed.
“Goodbye I'll be seeing you very soon in the future.” With that Erik put the car into reverse and drove further and further away from a house he now had committed to memory. This would definitely not be the last time the two saw each other. Little did he know that the next time would be his son breaking him out of the Pentagon in a stolen guard’s uniform.