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Shit, I'm gonna be late, Peter kept thinking as he ran to Beginnings Nursery School. Felicia had asked him to pick up Walter and Peter couldn't wait to have an entire day with his son, but he was held back at work, and then Scorpion decided it was a fine day to rob a bank. Peter believed he did it just to mess with him at that point. He hardly ever got away with any money.
His whole body tensed. What if it was just a distraction? he thought, and started making up about a dozen scenarios until he decided that he should cross that bridge when he got to it.
When he reached the nursery school, he stopped to take a breath and make himself look presentable. His hair, however, didn't want to cooperate and his shirt was on a new level of wrinkly.
"Ah, I'm not the only late parent today," said a voice next to him.
Peter looked to the side, where a very tall, blond man was smiling at him. "Is it bad that it brings me some consolation?" Peter asked, making the man chuckle.
"Nah, not much. It's like when you were at school and you weren't the only one who didn't do their homework," he said, then rolled his eyes. "Only this time there are little humans involved." He extended his hand. "I'm Harley."
Peter shook it. "Peter."
"You're new here?" Harley asked as they walked inside. "Or are you always so early that I never saw you before?"
Peter laughed. "My... uh... my son's mum usually brings him, so I'm not here much."
He knew it wasn't a bad thing to admit that he hadn't always known about Walter, but he already got the side eye for being a young parent. Besides, the entire story wasn't something he could freely share with anyone.
Peter looked around at the brightly-coloured shelves and the carpeted floor. There were all kinds of animal murals on the walls, and a rack that held two small jackets. Then, his eyes fell on Walter, who was playing Barbies with a blonde girl that seemed to be older than him.
"Huh, our kids seem to be friends," Harley said.
Peter nodded with a smile and felt that urge to cry because his son was already making friends. He had toned it down a little bit, but the time seemed to be moving way too fast for his liking. That was why he had already started thinking Walter should attend a university in New York and possibly never move out.
"Dad!" Walter shrieked and ran to him.
Peter knelt down and picked up the kid, and squeezed him in a hug after spinning him around. "Bud! How was your day?"
Not everything that came out of Walter's mouth was coherent, but Peter picked up a few things and kept smiling and nodding every time he thought it was appropriate, which made the toddler get even more excited and talk more.
A woman with rhinestoned, cateye glasses approached them. "Hi, you must be Walter's dad," she said with a smile. "I'm Ms. Georgia."
"I'm Peter, nice to meet you," Peter said extending his hand and slowly retreating once he noticed Ms. Georgia wasn't going for a handshake.
"You too, Mr. Hardy," she said. Peter tried correcting her, but she kept going. "I wanted to inform you that Walter didn't eat his vegetables today, and that's the third time this month. I'm afraid he's getting rebelious."
"Oh, Georgia, they're way too young to be rebelious," Harley said from behind. He was helping his daughter put on her jacket.
The woman huffed in annoyance. "I don't listen to people who are late on a daily basis, Mr. Keener."
Harley walked over, holding the little girl in his arms. "But do you go to their houses for game nights?"
Georgia's lips formed a straight line. "Only because Michelle and I win. Now get your bottom out of here," she said. "Bye, Rosie," she added in a sweet voice and waved to the girl.
"Let's go put on your jacket," Peter said to Walter and headed to the rack. "And maybe not tell your mum I was late."
"Bye, Walt," Georgia said, her voice once again sugar-sweet.
Walter looked over his shoulder and said, "Buh-bye."
"Rosie, are you friends with Walt?" Peter heard Harley asked as they walked out.
Rosie nodded proudly. "Yes! We played with cars and Barbies."
"Yes!" Walter echoed.
Harley turned to Peter. "Hey, we should arrange a playdate then. And maybe form a young parents club."
Peter nodded. "Sure, that would be fun."
"I'm going to show Walt my room," Rosie told Peter. "Mum and Dad painted it green."
"Really? That's amazing," Peter replied, putting on the same expression he would if someone told him they figured out how to time-travel. Immediately, he thought about how Walter didn't even have a room yet, in his house anyway, and what kind of parent that made him.
"Give me your phone," Harley said, extending his hand. Peter hesitated. "So you can have my number and we can actually meet up. Unless you thought it was this vague invitation other parents do and never go through with it, because I've had those happen. I've started to think they don't like me personally because I'm not too young to have a three-year-old. Excuse me for being social, Karen."
Peter laughed and gave him the phone. "No, I want to go through with it. You're fun and literally the only one I know with a kid Walter's age. Besides, aren't we still way too young to do that adult thing where they say they should get together and then never do?"
Harley nodded enthusiastically. "Right? I'm so close to thirty though, so I hope it doesn't kick in any time soon."
"Old," Peter mumbled, and instantly smiled to cover it up. "Sorry, an intern keeps doing that to me and... well, you're older than me so I took the opportunity."
Harley narrowed his light grey eyes at him, but then waved it off. "It's okay. I'll forgive you this once." Rosie burrowed her head in her father's neck. "We'll have to go now, but don't be a stranger, yeah?"
"Got it, see you," Peter said and they went on their separate ways.
By the time Peter got home, Walter was sleeping in his arms. He did his best not to disturb him and tucked him in his own bed, laughing quietly about how small he looked in it. As an afterthought, he snuck in his favourite teddy bear from when he was a kid (Squirtle from Pokemon) and then stared at his sleeping son for a few moments, wishing Ben and May were there to meet him.
But he assured himself it was okay. He knew they would have loved him, and he would just have to tell Walter about them when he was old enough.
Alright, enough with the weepy stuff now, Peter told himself and took out his laptop. He figured he could do some work while Walter was asleep and then prepare dinner, with extra veggies.
Walter, of course, didn't like that but Peter managed to get him to eat one whole carrot, so he considered it a win. Then, they put on kids' songs and Walter kept calling his father out because "Dad, that's wrong" so Peter tried harder to copy his son's movements only to fail more. He wondered if Walter called out Felicia, too, and if she had already made it a mission to teach their son about real music.
And that made him realize that she hadn't called all day.
"Dad? Dance," Walter said, his tiny hands on his waist.
Peter smiled. "Okay, bud," he said and went back to it, but that feeling that something wasn't right didn't go away.
Even after Walter was bathed and ready for sleep, Felicia still hadn't called or texted. Peter waltzed between calling MJ to ask her to look after Walter so he could search for Felicia and staying put, just in case he messed up a mission.
And that was another issue. Peter had no idea about Felicia's activities. They hadn't discussed about anything, really. It seemed clear that they would both have Walter and that was it. He didn't know if she kept on stealing art or working with or for New York's biggest mob bosses. She had cut a deal with the police a while ago and she was technically free of all charges, but she was her father's daughter. The one she didn't know was still alive.
Peter pushed that last thought aside. They didn't need a major thief and Felicia's inspiration for her collection in their lives. A side of him told him it wasn't his call to make, and that he would want to know if his parents or uncles were alive, but it wasn't enough to change his mind. My parents weren't criminals, he told himself.
Around midnight, Felicia texted him, asking if he could keep Walter for the night because she was caught up with work. That was when Peter finally laid down. Still, even with his son in his arms, he didn't sleep much, furious as he was with her. Whatever reason he tried to put into it only seemed like an excuse.
It was early morning when Felicia snuck inside through the window. Peter wasn't surprized to see her in her suit.
"Aw, look at my boys," she whispered.
Peter didn't say anything as he got out of bed.
"What? Did the cat steal your tongue?" Felicia asked with a playful smirk.
Peter crossed his arms. "No, because it's not a crazy-expensive work of art."
Felicia tilted her head to the side. "Isn't it?"
Heat rushed to Peter's cheeks, and he had a hard time deciding if it was embarassment or anger. "Downstairs. Now."
Felicia glanced at Walter, and a smile crept on her lips. "It's not what it looks like."
Peter sighed and massaged his temples. "Where were you, Felicia?" he asked, the despair clear in his voice. "Why?"
She shook her head. "It's... nothing to worry about. It's taken care of now."
"Felicia..."
"Peter, I need you to trust me," she said, taking a step closer to him. "There's no way I'd risk losing Walter."
Peter nodded. There was a huge conversation to be had there, but he was way too exhausted to have it right then, so he wrapped his arms around her and leant on the thing he knew for sure. "I know. Me neither."
Felicia hugged him back, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "We'll work it out, I promise."
Peter closed his eyes. "I'm so tired right now."
Felicia yawned. "Yeah, me too. Let me get Walter and we'll go."
"Or you could stay," Peter said. "Let's not wake him up yet."
"Mhm, just give me a blanket and I'll go to the..."
"No, you stay here with Walter, I'll..."
Felicia looked up at Peter, and he felt his chest warm up.
"Or we could both..."
"We could," Felicia agreed. "We can fit in there."
And althought they didn't really, and it was a little bit warmer than he liked and he couldn't move an inch without falling on the floor, Peter slept like a lamb.