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don’t leave me tongue tied (don’t wave no goodbye)

Summary:

“He’s--”

“Yours,” Felicia says, Peter bringing his hand down and searching her face.

Felicia was many things - passionate, meticulous, methodical, strategic.

Liar.

Peter would like to believe that for as long as he’s known her, that he’s gotten better at this - better at understanding more of her tics and her whims, seeing beyond the shiny veneer that she gives off to people.

Yet now, staring at her and then back down at the photograph she’s handed him, Peter wonders if Felicia would be so bold to lie about this.

Notes:

To Gru, who loves the idea of a spideycat baby as much as I do :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the tension headache building behind his eyes. 

“He’s--”

“Yours,” Felicia says, Peter bringing his hand down and searching her face. Felicia was many things - passionate, meticulous, methodical, strategic. 

Liar. 

Peter would like to believe that for as long as he’s known her, that he’s gotten better at this - better at understanding more of her tics and her whims, seeing beyond the shiny veneer that she gives off to people. 

Yet now, staring at her and then back down at the photograph she’s handed him, he’s not so sure. A polaroid that’s just as kitschy and as classic as the cameras she used to leave all around New York while sending him on wild goose - or cat as it were - chases, makes him wonder if Felicia would be so bold to lie about this. 

Peter’s leg bobs up and down under the table they’re at, regretting now that he’d agreed to meet with her in such a busy coffee shop rather than on the rooftops under cover of night that they’d so often met before. 

It had surprised him, Felicia reaching out to him. Her text had been so straight and to the point, he’d thought it was a joke - none of the teasing that he’d come to expect from her disarming just as her request had been, to talk with him in public, in the daylight, and alone. 

Peter’s thumb flicks over the photograph, wondering what this is gonna mean for him and Michelle - the weight of what Felicia was telling him pulling at him in so many different directions, he wasn’t even sure he could see straight. 

He blinks a few times, clearing his throat before saying, “What’s his name?”

“Walter,” Felicia says, Peter glancing up - a completely blank expression on her face that’s so Felicia that it hurts, Peter second-guessing just how well he knows her only for it to suddenly click, recognizing her demeanor for what it was. 

A test.

Felicia was not unlike Michelle - guarded, protective - and looking into her eyes, all Peter could see in them was this sense that Felicia was gauging his response. As if she wanted to know how Peter would react to this news before sharing anymore information. 

It would be easy of Peter to dismiss this out of hand, to be as callous and as cruel as she had been the last time they’d seen each other - wonder how Felicia could even be sure that this kid was his to begin with, question how he should ever begin to believe her.

But it hits him square in the chest - so all-encompassing that it takes his breath away - that Felicia would not test in this way unless she had something precious to protect. 

Unless she was telling the truth. 

“Walter huh?” Peter says, his voice thick as he tries to absorb the magnitude of what all of this means, looking back down at the picture and blinking away tears threatening to form.

Peter didn’t have a lot of baby pictures off-hand, though he’s sure May has them somewhere locked away in storage with the rest of the memories of his parents and Ben. It’s impossible for him to even try to see himself in the toothless grin of a baby but he tries anyway, already mourning the loss of everything he’s missed out on.

He and Michelle talked about kids someday - in the abstract, a possibility, a far off daydream that wasn’t something either of them felt a pressing need about. It was a secret dream of his, the terror of what having a child would mean as Spider-Man was overruled by the childish and burning desire to have someone in his life that looked like him. 

It was patently irrational, on several levels. May was his mom in all but in name, Tony had been a part of his life for well over a decade - countless people in his life that Peter would consider to be a part of his extended family in a way that the orphan who lost his uncle could never have dreamed of. 

There was still something in him, primal and probably foolish that wanted a child that looked like him - the chance for people to see some similarity between them.

He’d never voiced this to anyone, not even Michelle, considering how hypocritical it would be for him to want such a thing when May had officially adopted him and he didn’t feel any less her son.

When Peter knew genetics was a mess and there was no guarantee to begin with. When he wasn’t even sure if he could have kids, all things considered. 

But there it was - a seed buried deep in the recesses of his heart - now made real by the photograph in his hand, wondering for a brief second if maybe that was what was coloring his perspective on this. Michelle - and Tony for that matter - would want proof, some kind of paternity test. May would question why Felicia is bringing this up now rather than when she first found out, if there was something or someone motivating her to do so.

Peter takes a deep breath, running his thumb over the photograph and pushing away all the rational, logical thoughts he knows he should be having, saying instead, “Like your dad?”

His eyes flick up to meet Felicia’s - a searing look in them before her lip twitches, a tell that Peter recognizes as a smile as she nods and says, “Yeah.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a beat - Peter searching her face just as Felicia seems to search his, finding whatever he’s looking for when her expression shifts - shoulders relaxing slightly as she glances down to the photograph and says, “And yours.”

Peter furrows his eyebrows, blinking in confusion only for Felicia to say, “His name is Walter Benjamin .”

If Peter felt like he’d been kicked in the gut before, he’s breathless now - all the oxygen in the room sucked out of it as he braces a hand against the table.

Distantly, a rational part of his mind argues that this could all be manipulative. That the times Felicia had been completely honest with him in all the time he’s known her he can count on one hand, that this was just some kind of trick or part of a long con that Peter should know better than to fall for by now.

Yet there’s something there in her eyes, something Peter knows - a recognition that even if Felicia had lied through her teeth for all of her life and to almost everyone she’d ever met - she wasn’t lying about this. 

He’d loved her, once. He thought she’d loved him back. Later he would think maybe that love is what led her back to him. 

Peter huffs, lips twitching into a smile before whispering, “Can I meet him?”

That seems to be the very thing that transforms Felicia, looking more like how he’s always known her to be as she smiles, throwing her head back and laughing.

It’s loud - clear and melodic - enough that a few people look back over to them as Peter waits for her to get a handle on herself. Felicia just smiles, the flash of mischief that once upon a time he’d fallen in love with rushing through her eyes as she winks.

“Sure thing, kitten. Why else would I tell you?”

 


 

Walter babbles at Peter, waving his hands around as Peter tries - for the fourth time - to try and feed him some mushed up sweet potatoes.

“Come on buddy, do this for me,” Peter says, hearing Michelle’s snicker in the kitchen.

“He doesn’t like sweet potatoes, Pete,” she says off-hand, Peter frowning as Walter - for the fourth time - deftly avoids Peter’s attempt to spoon feed him, leaning away so hard from him in his high chair that if Peter wasn’t so annoyed, he’d think it was cute. 

“He can’t just live on bananas and mac and cheese, MJ,” Peter says with a huff, Walter’s defensive posture immediately shifting into glee as soon as he sees Michelle - his babbling turning into excited squealing. 

“Why? You do,” Michelle says, Peter playfully rolling his eyes as Michelle walks up and plants a kiss to Walter’s forehead who reaches for her with a soft, “Mimi.”

“Mim’s got work,” Michelle says, her eyes soft and filled with affection before glancing at Peter. “You’re meeting Felicia at three?”

“Two,” Peter says, hoping to take advantage of Walter’s distraction - underestimating the fact that for as much as he’s his son, he’s also Felicia’s, Walter dodging Peter’s spoon once more that makes him wonder not for the first time if he had powers. 

“Ok well, try not to kill each other this time,” Michelle says with a laugh before leaning forward, kissing him before she moves towards the door.

“We didn’t try and kill each other the last time,” Peter tries to argue, catching Michelle’s raised eyebrow as she glances over to him - putting her coat on with a disbelieving look on her face. 

“We didn’t,” Peter says, though Michelle doesn’t say a word, fixing her hair so it’s not stuck in her coat as he continues, “She just has a very different idea of what co-parenting Walter means.”

Namely, Peter thinks - of her still being Black Cat. Felicia didn’t see it as an issue. Peter disagreed. 

It was a dance of a different nature, pushing back and forth as Peter tried to argue against it - Felicia refusing to hear any word of it as they met up on rooftops over and over again.

It was nothing like it had been before - the rooftop rendezvous that Peter drifted back to when she was gone - but it was still passionate in a different way, burning desire for Peter to convince her to finally put down the mask for good. 

Felicia, just as she had always been, was stubborn. Then again, Peter thinks - so was he. 

Michelle she grabs her keys, giving him a look before saying, “Be nice . Love you, see you tonight.”

Peter scoffs as Michelle leaves, Walter waving a hand to her as he grumbles, “I’m always nice.”

Walter babbles to Peter at that, Peter giving him a small grin before leaning forward and asking, “You think I’m nice huh buddy?”

Walter blows a raspberry, Peter frowning before rolling his eyes and smiling - turning his attention back to the blended sweet potato. 

It was hard to believe that in less than three months how quickly his life had changed - Walter becoming the very center of his world in a way that even Peter had been surprised about. He thought he’d known what love was, how all-encompassing and unique and layered it was.

But then he’d met Walter, a kinship that even the paternity test that Felicia had willingly agreed to couldn’t have denied the truth that Peter knew deep in his gut. 

Walter is his son - seeing himself more and more every day in the shape of his nose, in the wisps of Walter’s brown curls and the color of eyes, though the flecks of green were all Felicia.

May and Tony - once they got over the initial shock - had thrown themself full force into Walter’s life, turning their playful banter into a semi-friendly competition of who was the better grandparent to their recently acquired grandchild.

Michelle had adjusted in the matter-of-fact way she always did, Peter’s fears that she’d be hurt or upset cleared away by her recognition that when Felicia and Peter had been together, her and Peter were not.

“We were broken up, Pete,” Michelle had said, folding their laundry together a few days after he’d broken the news - still trying to wrap his head around it and his shock that Michelle was so nonplussed about it all to begin with. “And now you have a kid. What do you want me to say? That I’m upset? Hurt? I never want to see you again?” 

“No,” Peter had replied, his voice thickly as he’d folded a towel together.

“Good cause I’d be lying,” Michelle said, her voice firm and her face focused. “Yeah, I’m pissed. At the situation. At the fact that it was only because she was running from something else before she told you about your kid .”

“It’s more complicated than that—“ Peter had tried to argue, even if she was right, remembering how Michelle shook her head as she said, “Whatever, that’s not what I’m saying. She’s the mother of your child and I’m not interested in acting like some evil step-mom in a trashy romance novel.”

She’d set down the towel she’d folded twice, looking back to Peter before saying, “I love you, Pete. I said I’d marry you.”

Michelle had sighed, the engagement ring the two of them had picked out only two weeks before calling out to Peter like a beacon as she said, “I’m gonna love your kid too.”

Peter sighed at the memory, looking fondly at Walter who - instead of eating the sweet potato had taken to stuffing his hand in his mouth - seemed to be more fascinated by Michelle than him most days. 

It’d worked out for the two of them - worked out for them at all, much better than Peter could’ve ever anticipated. It was a fear in the back of his mind, leg bobbing up and down as Walter began to slap his hands against the tray of his high chair. 

Three months after the most earth shattering revelation in Peter’s life since he’d gotten a bite that made him stick to walls and things had… been fine. 

May, MJ, Tony... the most important people in his life were all supportive of him, to the point where Peter was sure that there had to be more under the surface - wondering if they were all slightly freaking out and trying to put on a brave face for Peter’s sake.

It was appreciated and resented all at the same time, Peter feeling almost too supported despite this being something he absolutely needed support for.

The most surprising revelation of all this had been Felicia - how easily she slipped into his life and how much her and Walter had become such central figures in such a short amount of time.

Walter’s giggles bring a smile to Peter’s face, his leg still bobbing up and down as he thinks to how different it was now compared to when Felicia had been the one of the only significant relationships in his life.

The fight with Michelle that contributed to their breakup, bristling with Tony over working at SI, even tense moments with May after he took a leave from grad school - all of it had culminated in a time where Peter threw himself into Spider-Man, caring less and less about his life as Peter Parker.

It was almost fitting that the Black Cat would just as easily slip into his life as everyone else felt as they slipped out. Late nights where they flirted on rooftops, others where they didn’t talk at all - Peter relishing in the thrill of not only being with someone new but so bold as she panted his alter ego's name in his ear. 

Learning who Felicia was behind the mask had been an accident, a slip of her tongue that in hindsight Peter now knew wasn’t an accident at all. 

Felicia was guarded, calculated - she didn’t make mistakes. Yet the moment that their not-quite-friends-but-all-the-benefits relationship had the possibility into turning something more, she’d disappeared - a final meeting on a rooftop where she’d been unnecessarily cruel.

Hindsight yet again told Peter all he needed to know - Walter’s babbling being proof enough of why she’d left. 

If Peter was honest, he was angry - at himself for not trying harder to find Felicia, too easily pulled back into the web of connections that were his family, falling back into step with them when the hurricane that was Felicia was long gone.

But he was also angry with her, Michelle’s admonishment coming back to him as his legs continued to shake. 

He had Walter now but he’d already missed so much - the rush of hearing a baby’s heart beat for the first time, the amazement that came with learning about a baby’s development as the months crawled by, the only kind of support he could give at the birth in holding Felicia’s hand, the awe he knows he would’ve felt in holding Walter for the first time.

May told him that he had Walter now - that whatever situation that had led Felicia back to the city were things he could be upset about or try and make peace with, knowing that if anyone knew what they were talking about when it came to making the best of unexpected children, she would.

It still ate at him in the back of his mind - how easy all of this was. How it wasn’t easy at all. The guilt. The anger. His frustration and frustration at the lack of frustration.

Things didn’t come easily for Peter - Parker luck had proved that over and over again.

Yet all of this, Walter’s squeals bringing him out of his thoughts as he smiles and looks at his son, made him wonder if maybe some things didn’t have to be so difficult after all.

Or maybe, if the fear in the back of his mind was any indication, this was all just another test - something Peter couldn’t help but think that eventually he’d fail. 

 


 

Peter hears her before he sees her, the barely there landing of her feet on the rooftop being something he almost would’ve missed had he not been so attentive.

“Fancy meeting you here, Spider.”

Peter’s jaw tenses, grinding his teeth together as he turns to her - Felicia decked out in her Black Cat gear as he sighs. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, tone sharp and body tense as Felicia just smiles - walking up to him with purpose as she says, “Same as you, lover. Scoping out the scene.”

Peter sighs again as Felicia lets out a laugh, low and guttural.

“Don’t start.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Peter hisses, watching as Felicia’s laugh turns into a coy smile. 

“No, you’ve talked about this. I didn’t listen because I’m not here for your casual sexism.”

“It’s not-- I’m not being sexist , Felicia,” Peter snaps, Felicia perching next to him as she ignores his stare, tilting her head as she takes in Tombstone’s men moving boxes from the warehouse to the truck. “This is dangerous. You shouldn’t--”

“What? Have a little piece of the pie? Stay at home and play good little wife like MJ?” Felicia snaps back, Peter grinding his teeth even more as he says, “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“How you managed to swing your way back into her good graces is beyond me, Spider. She’s too good for you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have her under some kind of spell,” Felicia says blithely, Peter’s anger ratcheting up as she continues. “Does she know that you have such hypocritical double standards for the women in your life?”

“This is different. I’m not stealing shit from crime lords , Felicia. I’m trying to stop them from--”

Felicia waves a hand in his direction, claws extended as she says, “Spare the background for your sidekicks, I’m not interested.”

Peter fumes only for Felicia to say, “For someone who was so damned and determined to get me to the light side or whatever you call it, you sure do have a way of making it all sound horrifically boring.” 

“Felicia…”

“Love it when you say my name, lover,” Felicia says with a smirk and a wink, Peter feeling his annoyance levels rise. 

“Where’s Walter?”

It’s the immediate wrong thing to say, Peter actually flinching as Felicia’s green eyes turn cold - piercing into him as she presses her lips together and straightens her back.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? What , Felicia? This isn’t a game. We have a kid --”

“Yes, we do. And yet I don’t see you at home playing house with your perfect fiance and perfect little family,” Felicia hisses, looking as if she was ready to pounce in a way that was so similar and yet eerily different to how it was before. 

He’d seen Felicia in so many different ways yet this - her anger, fiery and powerful - was something that he’d seen only once before.

The same day she’d left the city and presumably out of his life forever. The same day Peter thinks - that she must’ve found out that she was pregnant. 

“It’s different,” Peter tries to argue, Felicia leaning even closer - the tension being the furthest thing from sexual as she snaps, “It’s not .”

Peter stares her down - wishing he could actually look into her eyes yet grateful for the mask, Felicia’s own eyes narrowing as she says, “You think that you’re the only one who cares? The only one who has ever struggled? Had to make hard decisions? You don’t know shit , Peter.”

“I know that Walter wouldn’t want his mom to die because of a fucking drug bust.”

“Don’t talk to me about what my son would want,” Felicia snaps, “not when you’re sitting here, acting as if you have some kind of moral high ground.”

Peter goes to argue something else when they’re both startled by the slam of a truck door, both of them turning to see Tombstone’s men loading up the last of their cargo and getting ready to go. 

“Shit,” Peter mutters, knowing that his chances of being able to stop them all before they drove off went down the longer he waited. But he’s still seething - conflicting emotions running through him as he turns back to Felicia. 

But she’s already standing - backing away with a look of disgust on her face. 

“You’re an ass,” Felicia says, hearing the venom in her voice but also a level of hurt - feeling the sting in it as Peter’s shoulders tense up.

“Felicia…”

“Run off and fight the bad guys, Peter,” she says, backing away slowly - Peter hearing the truck’s engines below startup. “Daddy’s gotta make Walter proud.

Peter instantly feels like shit, going to argue something more only for the pull to the trucks to call out to him as they start to drive away - glancing to them for a moment before looking back to Felicia, only for her to be gone.

Peter knows that he should go after her, try and talk this out but he’s too angry and too focused - a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’d fucked up in more ways than one as he sends a web out and swings towards Tombstone’s men. 

 


 

Peter’s leg is bobbing up and down, waiting in the crowded coffee shop and wondering if Felicia was going to stand him up.

Some days had passed from that night on the rooftop - Felicia being in communication in short bursts, all entirely related to Walter. She was bringing him to the coffee shop, the weird custody agreement they had being something that Peter wanted to change - wondering for a half-beat if she would even show. 

He shakes that away, knowing Felicia better than that to ever think she would use their son against him. Felicia could be petty and vindictive but she wasn’t actually cruel - even if the seed of doubt is there at the idea that she’d kept the truth about Walter away from him for months and likely would have had there not been outside forces at hand. 

Yet he’s still mulling over their last real conversation, the quick text exchanges being perfunctory in relation to the words she’s snapped back at him on that rooftop. He’d told Michelle about it, only to be thoroughly blindsided by how instantly she’d taken Felicia’s side - the argument they’d had when he got home paling in comparison to the terse words he and Felicia had shared.

Peter understood it better - now, a few days later - but still didn’t agree, failing no matter how hard he tried to reconcile what he did as Spider-Man compared to what Felicia did as Black Cat. No matter how many times he twisted it or framed it, he couldn’t make sense of the idea that Felicia would willingly put herself in danger for the sake of something so insignificant. He hadn’t understood it when he was in her bed and he didn’t understand it now, Walter’s very existence proving to him that Felicia cared about more than just her own whims. 

He doesn’t get the chance to think about it anymore as Felicia walks in, pushing Walter in a stroller that Tony had gifted the two of them. 

He waves, Felicia’s expression blank and empty - a mask of a different sort from the other night as she makes her way to him.

“I know we agreed on three nights, but we need to make it four. I have some business to attend to out of the city,” she says, direct and to the point as she unloads the diaper bag onto the seat across from him.

Everything from her body language indicates that she’s ready to leave, staring passively at Peter before turning to Walter and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Walter giggles at that, the sound of it aching at something in Peter as she says, “Sunday at six?”

“Felicia…”

“Don’t,” Felicia says harshly, Peter staring at her straight on as she says, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Please,” Peter says, looking at her meaningfully before looking to where she’d placed the diaper bag. 

Felicia’s expression stays blank but Peter knows her well enough by now - can see from the twitch of her lips and the way her eyes study him that she’s running through a pro/cons list of whether or not it would be worth her time to have whatever discussion that he has planned.

She must decide it’s worth it, moving the diaper bag to the floor and sliding into the seat across of him - graceful even if Peter can feel the anger emanating off of her. 

“Well. Talk.” 

Felicia’s words are harsh but her tone is not, interlacing her fingers in front of her and resting them on the table. 

“I’m… I wanted to apologize. For the other night,” Peter says, his voice lowering an octave. “MJ says I was being an idiot.”

“Well if MJ says so,” Felicia says, Peter tilting his head and saying, “Felicia…”

She shakes her head, flicking some of her blonde hair over her shoulder as she says, “I don’t mean it like that. She’s right. You were. Besides, we talked.”

Peter pauses at that, blinking a few times before leaning forward. “You what ?”

Felicia lets out a huff, the ghost of a smile on her face as she says, “She’s going to be your wife , Peter. You think I’m going to ignore the woman who will be such a major part of Walter’s life?” 

Peter for once in his life has the good sense not to answer that, Felicia shaking her head once more as she says, “She’s better than you deserve. Good to know my hard work didn’t go to waste, kept you busy till you got back with her.”

Peter winces, hating the implication that he used Felicia when he’d been hurt when she was gone, an ache in his chest he recognized as love as he tries to argue and say, “That’s not--”

Felicia smirks at him. “You’re a shitty liar, Pete. Don’t try and bullshit a bullshitter. I knew what we were when we were together.”

There’s something in her tone that Peter picks up on, pressing forward as he asks, “And now?”

He sees that he strikes a nerve from the piercing look in her eyes - feeling as if she was staring straight into him as she says, “That’s up to you.”

“I don’t want to be like… this,” Peter says helplessly, glancing at Walter who’s happily in his own little world as he plays with one of the toys attached to his stroller. “He deserves better than that.” 

“He does,” Felicia says, Peter glancing up at her to see that her attention is directed to their son. “All I’ve ever wanted is for him to be safe.”

“So why do you--” Peter begins, only for Felicia’s eyes to snap back to his as she cuts him off. 

“I don’t tell you how to run your life. Don’t tell me how to run mine.”

“It’s not that simple, Leesh,” Peter says, his voice soft and low as she tenses at the sound of her old nickname - one reserved for the quiet moments between the two of them, tangled up in bedsheets and covered by soft moonlight in the safety of his bedroom. “Your life affects mine. What am I supposed to tell Walter if something happens to you?”

Felicia falters at that for a moment, as if something clicks that hadn’t before - Peter wondering if she understood that his fear of raising a child alone paled in comparison to the weight of being the child whose parents had died.

She recovers quickly before saying, “The same thing I’d say if something happened to you. That you loved him. Did your best for him.”

It’s not the answer Peter wanted but it’s the best one he knows he’s going to get, Felicia unfurling her fingers together as she places them flat on the table.

“The chances of anything happening to you with Stark around are slim to none so, I’m not worried,” she says dismissively, Peter’s heart tugging at something that he can’t name for how casual she’s being - knowing it would be so easy to dismiss it as just being Felicia.

But he knows her better than this, knows that there’s something more under the surface as he says, “Felicia, what’s going on?”

“Nothing I can’t handle myself,” she says, looking back to Walter with a smile. “Just something I need to do. For him.”

“What? What do you need to do? Talk to me Leesh. I want to help,” Peter says a little desperately, knowing he’s in no position to beg this of her yet barrelling forward all the same, Felicia just smiling at him. 

“You can help by keeping our son safe while I’m gone. Give up on the sweet potato, he’s not going to eat it.” 

Peter blinks then lets out a sharp laugh, Felicia smiling again even if Peter can see that it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

There’s something there - something that she’s hiding, something Peter so desperately wants to know. What could possibly be so big that she’d hid Walter from him? What could possibly have brought her back to the city now only to now to have to leave again? These trips she took got more and more frequent - to the point where Peter almost thought to follow her.

He knows he can’t - all the months he spent chasing the Black Cat being in vain until she wanted to be caught - but it nags at him all the same, barely withholding the urge to reach out and take her hand. 

“Felicia…”

“As much as I love it when you say my name, I have a train to catch,” she says, getting up from the seat and pressing another kiss to Walter’s chubby cheeks - something else itching at his heart at how unabashedly she shows her affection to their son. 

There’s a secret she’s hiding - a secret so big that it had compelled her to share the one thing that Peter’s sure she wouldn’t have, making him wonder if in another life if she would’ve trusted him enough to do so.

Yet in another life, they might’ve not met at all - the perfect storm of events that had led to Felicia becoming such an integral part of his life all those months ago, to the next storm that had clearly brought her back into it. 

Felicia leans up from Walter as he babbles something to her, Felicia smiling softly before looking to Peter with an expression that throws him - fierce and unsettling enough that it’s almost enough to send off his spider sense, an irrational thought considering Felicia had never been a danger to him. 

“Take care of him for me okay?” She says, her voice even and calm as Peter stares at her transfixed, feeling as if she was saying more than what she was. 

“Of course,” he replies, “Sunday at six?”

Felicia’s mouth twitches, the tell he could recognize anywhere as she says, “Sunday at six.”

Felicia was many things - passionate, meticulous, methodical, strategic.

Liar.

Felicia had been telling him the truth three months ago. Staring into her eyes, seeing a storm brewing behind them that Peter couldn’t even hope to unravel - he knew in his gut that unlike then, she wasn’t. 

Felicia was lying - for something, for someone - he didn’t know. 

Her hand curls protectively over the handle of Walter’s stroller, the thought occurring to him that whatever it was - she was doing it for Walter.

Peter wishes she would trust him with it, a part of him telling himself that he’ll do now what he didn’t do the last time. Follow after her, protect her, find some way to solve whatever problem she felt she had to solve by herself. Yet she’d clearly wanted him not to - to protect Walter and keep him safe, something Peter knows he’d die doing if it came down to it. 

Felicia’s hiding something - what he couldn’t possibly try and understand. And for as much as he wants to know what it is, Peter knows her well enough to guess - Walter’s happy giggling proof enough - that unless she wanted him to know what it was, he never would. 

He doesn’t say that, swallowing all that down - hoping desperately that the sense in his gut was wrong. 

Felicia didn’t trust him with whatever was bringing her out of the city but she trusted him with Walter - understands on some level that he couldn’t even explain that whatever she was doing was for Walter. 

Peter could only hope that whatever it was, that love for Walter would be enough to keep her safe and bring her home. 

That maybe in another life, his love would’ve been enough that she never would’ve left.

Peter clears his throat, holding her gaze and hoping that he’s communicating everything he can’t bring himself to say, the twitch of her lips telling him all that he needs to know. 

“See you then.”

Notes:

I love it when people yell at me in the comments. Come hang out with me on tumblr.

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