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Peter Parker could go on for days without even a blink of sleep. Most of the time, it caught up to him. He would black out during work breaks or pass out the moment he sat on a chair. It wasn't very pretty.
That day was the third in a row that Peter hadn't slept. Still, he had the energy of someone who downed ten energy drinks for breakfast. He ran around the lab, cracked jokes, wrote down a report without any complaints. Sure, the bags under his eyes betrayed his lack of sleep, but that was the only clue Kamala had to tell him off.
"Sleep. Hydrate," she said. "It's not that hard, you know."
Peter cracked a grin. "I'm fine! See this?" he asked, circling a finger around his mouth. "This is a smile, which indicates I'm doing great. Besides, I should be the one checking in on you."
Kamala chuckled. "You might be old, but you haven't figured out how to be adult."
"I'm older, not old," Peter said in a serious voice. "I may have started to have back pains but I have years before the arthritis kicks in."
Kamala pat him on the shoulder. "Sure, tell yourself that," she said and got back to her work.
Peter, of course, had a reason to be that happy. He could barely keep it to himself, but he knew he had to. It didn't matter, though: in a few hours he would meet his son.
He had his doubts somewhere in the back of his mind. What if Felicia lied just to get rid of me? What if he doesn't want me? How am I going to tell MJ? But, like most of the times, he decided to ignore the unpleasant thoughts and focus on the good.
At three PM, he hung his lab coat and took the subway back home. He was tempted to swing, but it was a long distance and he wanted to keep all his energy for the little guy. And when he got home, he wondered around the place, making sure everything was baby-proof. He didn't know what he was doing exactly since he hadn't ever lived with a kid, but he pulled up some articles on his phone. He didn't have any rubbery things for the sharp corners, and so he webbed them up with a sattisfied smile.
The hours passed by, and Felicia wasn't there yet. The doubts came rushing in. That's it, I was played. I should have put a tracker on her and follow her right then. He shook his head. No negative thoughts, Pete. She promissed.
He kept himself busy by making dinner. He didn't know what babies can eat, or if his baby is allergic to anything, so he opted for gluten-free pasta and his famous sauce, which was basically crushed tomatoes and ketchup boiled with any oil and herbs that were available. He was doing a taste test when his phone starting to ring. He froze for a second, expecting Felicia to kindly let him know they couldn't make it today, but he was somewhat relieved to see MJ's number.
With a deep breath, he answered. He didn't know what he would say, but he wasn't ready for the truth just yet.
"Hey, Tiger," MJ said. "What are you up to?"
Peter bit his tongue. "Oh, you know. Just making dinner."
"I thought we would have dinner at my place?"
Peter closed his eyes. She was right. "I'm sorry, it's just that..." I'm waiting for Felicia and my son. "Something came up. We'll talk about it later, I promise."
"Okay," MJ replied, dragging the "O". "Do your thing. Call me if you need me."
Peter's heart sank. "I-I will."
He ended the phone call and placed his phone gently on the counter. He wasn't satisfied with himself, but coming clean would require... a lot. Peter hadn't even seen the kid yet. He wanted to keep everything at bay for a few hours and enjoy this. Then, he would do everything right.
There was a knock on the door. Peter rushed over there, reached for the handle and... froze. He breathed in and out, fixed his hair so as not to make a bad impression to who he knew was the most important person in his life, and slowly opened the door.
It was like a dream, like the sun shone just a little brighter, like the colours became just a bit more vibrant. His jaw fell to the ground in awe when his eyes met the little kid standing next to Felicia, his hand in hers. He stook just a little higher than his mum's knees and he had the fluffiest chocolate brown hair and the biggest green eyes. Peter knelt on the floor and took it all in, the pinkish cheeks and the nose the little guy seemed to have snatched from his mum, the pouty lips, the tiny hands.
Peter looked up at Felicia, and she waved her free hand. He let out a breathy "hi" and got back to staring at his son. He couldn't believe he was able to even say it.
With his heart pounding, he said, "Hi, Walter. Walt. Which do you prefer?" His little eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Peter felt a lump in his throat. "Do you want to come inside?"
"Dad."
Peter could hear the blood rushing through his veins. "Yeah?"
Walter simply pointed his tiny index at him and said again, "Dad."
Peter couldn't bite down his smile. "Y-Yeah, I'm your dad," he said, his voice trembling. He opened his arms. "Can I... Do you want a hug?" He looked up at Felicia again. "Can I?"
He found it so strange that her face was so... calm. Sirene. That playful smirk she showed so rarely when they were together was plastered on her lips, and Peter could only find it natural that Walter would be constantly bringing it out of her.
"Of course you can, if Walt wants," she said.
As an answer, the litte kid let go of his mum's hand and walked right up to Peter. When those delicate arms touched his neck, something clicked inside Peter. His heart was racing and he felt weak at the knees, but also the strongest he'd ever been. He wrapped his arms around his boy tight to protect him from everything in that world, but he was also careful not to crush him. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if Walter had inherited anything special from him.
Peter ran his fingers through his son's hair, messing it up. "You're the coolest little human to ever exist," he murmured and he almost broke in tears when Walter smiled at him, exposing tiny teeth.
He heard the faintest click. Felicia flashed a smile at them and shook the phone in her hand.
"I figured you'd want to remember," she explained.
Peter nodded. "Thank you." He stood up, careful not to drop Walter. His head was empty of words, so he just held the little guy and smiled like a fool, feeling like the luckiest person in the entire world.
"I've shown him pictures of you," Felicia said. "That's how he knows you."
Peter's jaw dropped. "Wow. He knew me before I even knew... Does he know I'm..."
Felicia laughed. "Are you kidding me? If he went to day care and said his mum is... and his dad is... He would get bullied, and then I'd have to cut many tiny ears."
Peter laughed along with her, and Walter joined in despite having no idea what it was about. Without a second thought, Peter leaned in and placed a kiss on top of his head.
"I'm not this silent usually, Walt," Peter said to his son. "In fact, you're going to wish I was more quite in a while. You should cherish this now because this is the least I'm ever going to talk." He felt a tear escaping for his left eye.
"Are you hurt?" Walter asked.
Peter was impressed. He didn't expect the kid would talk in full sentences already. "No," he said in a small voice. "Not at all." Then the smell of something burning invaded his nostrils. "Oh fuck- I mean shit! I mean-"
He gestured for Felicia to take Walter, even though she told him she can take care of the food. Peter needed a minute to himself, to calm down. He inspected the sauce, swirling a spoon around the pot. When he noticed small black pieces coming up, he decided it wasn't redeemable. With a sigh, he returned to the living room. A smile found its way in his face when he saw Walter playing with the remote on the couch.
"Dinner is ruined," he announced.
Felicia nudged at their son. "See? Daddy is a bad cook."
"I am not!" Peter protested, sitting next to Walter. "I was just a little careless today, that's all."
Walter looked up at him with those green eyes. Peter almost broke into tears again because, for the first time, he realized they looked a lot like his, aside from the colour.
"You know what?"Felicia said, breaking the silence. "We can cook something together. Walt loves helping out in the kitchen."
Peter smiled again. "Do you, Walter?"
The little kid clapped his hands. "Yes!" he said, like it was the most exciting thing in the world.
With that, the three of them went to the kitchen. Walter was sat on the table and Peter was next to him, pulling him close to his side with an arm. He looked at Felicia, who was going through the fridge and the cabinets in search for any ingredients that would be useful. It was still weird to see her like that, in plain jeans and a simple shirt, but it felt right.
They ended up making another pasta dish that the website promised would be the best they ever had, along with garlic bread. When it was finally ready and they sat down at the table, Peter ended up mostly gazing at Walter, who could already feed himself, and felt a pang in his chest, realizing how much he had already missed. He promised himself then and there that he wouldn't miss anything else in his son's life.
"Peter? Aren't you going to eat?" Felicia asked. "It's good, I swear."
Peter smiled and stabbed a few rigatoni with his fork, raising it almost as a toast before eating.
"Like it, Dad?" Walter asked with that adorable squeaky voice of his, and Peter almost choked.
"Yeah, bud, I love it," he said and felt that familiar lump coming up. I love you.