Chapter Text
The squirming baby was surprisingly silent as it rested against Nick Fury’s chest. His small arms pushed against the binding of the blue blanket that swaddled him, but it didn’t seem to distress the babe. Instead the boy appeared comforted by the tight enclosure, a quiet yawn escaping before he went still once more.
Hill had told him that the baby had been easy to transport, that he had slept through most of the drive and was hardly ever fussy when awake. “He’ll have good temperament when he’s older,” She had said as she handed the baby over. Fury hoped that was true. It would certainly balance out the impulsive side he was sure to inherit from his father.
The quiet dragged on for a few more minutes as they stood in the hallway, until it was finally broken by the sound of footsteps. Fury glanced away from the face of the sleeping boy, watched as a nurse approached them.
“They’re ready.”
They weren’t truly ready, but who could ever prepare for such grief. Fury nodded to the nurse as she opened the door to a hospital room. It wasn’t sterile in decoration like most, with walls painted in soft pastel colors and lights that were slightly dimmed. Inside was another man, seated next to a bed that held his wife.
“Richard. Mary. I’m sorry for your loss.” Mary’s gaze was gentle, but he could tell she was drawing every ounce of strength to keep it that way as her eyes drifted to the bundle in his arms. As if on cue, the boy began his squirming.
Richard stood from his seat and advanced towards Fury. Despite the fact that his sole purpose had been to make sure this went through, he could feel a sense of protectiveness form at the thought of releasing the boy. But he released him anyway and watched as Richard cooed and took the bundle to where Mary rested.
She took him with the ease of a mother, her strength shifting into a gentleness that was immediate and visible. Fury watched as she touched the boy’s face with her fingers, a soft drifting that encouraged the baby’s eyes to open. Blue, though likely to change into brown at some point. “He’s beautiful,” Mary whispered, then added, “Peter.”
“Your father’s name?” Richard murmured. “Yeah. He looks like him. Bald and wrinkled.”
“You’re terrible,” she whispered back, though the words had no sting in them.
When it was clear that Mary was settled with the newly named Peter, Richard waved for Fury to follow him into the hall. His eyes darted between Fury and the door of the hospital room, empty hands clenching and unclenching in a display of anxiousness. Fury couldn’t blame the man for being on edge. The loss of one child. Another one showing up at their door. Days of secret phone calls and a favor requested from Fury himself.
“Is SHIELD going to maintain a record of the swap?” Richard’s attention was all on him now, unsteady hands tucked into pockets.
“No,” Fury had made sure of it. “Papers all point to you and Mary being that kid’s parents.”
There was a heavy silence between the two, broken when Richard gave a shaky sigh. “I’m surprised it’s you, Fury. Didn’t really expect the Director himself to get this involved.”
Fury gave a loose wave of his hand, “When you want something done right...”
Richard’s brow lifted as he pried further, “You going to tell me who else knows?”
“As few as possible. The mom didn’t make it. Father didn’t know.” Fury glanced at his watch, an act that didn’t go unnoticed by Richard. Question time was over. He supposed it didn’t matter anyway. All the answers they needed were in that room with Mary now.
So, Richard did what was expected of him and shook Nick Fury’s hand as he promised, “We’ll take care of Peter.”
“I know you will. I wouldn’t have called if there was any doubt.” Then Fury was walking away, leaving the fate of a dead agent’s boy in the qualified hands of a Company man.