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Mayday wailed, her little face red with frustration. Peter swore under his breath. He had tried near everything to get her to calm down, feeding her, checking her diaper, giving her favorite toy, and he even tried making funny faces to distract her. It was all in vain however, including his failing attempt to calm her by burping her. Peter bounced her up and down as he patted her back gently.
“Hey now, don’t cry Mayday…” he tried his best to sound calm for her, but fatigue strained his voice.
She continued wailing loudly, barely stopping to catch her breath.
“Come on Mayday, you’re going to disturb the other Spider-Men and they won’t let you come to HQ with me anymore.” Peter pleaded as she yelled, taking a deep breath to keep his cool.
Peter loved her with all his heart, but sometimes he wished he could have a break. He knew kids would be a lot of work- hell, he had read all the parenting books online and attended educational parenting events while MJ was pregnant.
Peter sighed, resigning to his fate of letting her wear herself out.
“You’re doing it wrong.” Miguel called from the doorway, leaning against the frame.
Peter tossed a half-serious glare in his direction. “She’s been crying for nearly half an hour now, if you want a shot at it, be my guest.” He declared sassily, extending Mayday to Miguel.
Miguel’s expression remained blank as he took her into his arms. He placed her to lay on his shoulder, her head to the side. He bounced her gently, patting her back. Soon enough, Mayday let out a small burp and had quit crying.
Miguel raised his eyebrow to Peter, corners of his lips twitching up to form a small smile.
Peter glared at him, wanting to wipe that [handsome] smug look off his face. “Very funny, Dark Garfield.”
Despite his voice only being a whisper, it was equally taunting. “You’re not very original, Parker.”
Peter crossed his arms, “Yeah, well the whole ‘dark and brooding’ act has already been done by Batman.” He grumbled to himself.
Miguel ignored his snarky comment, deciding it wasn’t worth bickering over, especially because he didn’t want to disturb Mayday.
They sat in silence for a second before Miguel spoke, “The trick is to hold them on your shoulder, not your chest.” He was quieter now, tone distant as he talked, reminiscing bittersweet memories.
Peter was silent, unsure of how to comfort him. He considered Miguel a friend, but it was difficult to feel close to him when he was always so… blocked off. When Peter heard the familiar nostalgic tone Miguel used, he couldn’t deny that the Miguel he knows is only a little more than a hollow shell of his former self. However, every now and then if Peter paid close attention and was lucky, he could get a glimpse of that former, more complete Miguel. The Miguel that was sweet, kind, and gentle. Miguel tried to bury himself in the anger so he didn’t have room for the sorrow. Peter recognized this, he was no stranger to running away from himself.
“Thank you.” Peter sighed, finally deciding on what to say.
Miguel jumped a bit, being pulled back to the present by Peter’s voice, “It’s no problem, really.” He rubbed Mayday’s back slowly as she snored, not able to make eye contact with Peter.
They returned to silence once again, more comfortable than awkward this time. Peter noticed the glint of love that sparked across Miguel’s eyes as he held Mayday. Peter knew he needed this, so he said nothing and just watched Miguel. Peter used the moment to memorize the way his lips tipped up faintly, the way his shoulders relaxed, the way he finally looked… at peace.
Miguel shifted slowly to give Mayday back without waking her. Peter was instantly enamored by Mayday’s little snores, not noticing the wince of pain Miguel had as he let go of her.
Miguel sighed, collecting himself. He extended his hand to rest it gently on Peter’s shoulder, unsure of his own actions.
Peter looked up to him, the soft and faint happiness of holding his daughter still adorning his tired features.
Miguel flushed at the sweet, domestic look Peter gave. Surprised by the softness of his usually cartoonishly exaggerated face, his heart fluttered inside his chest. It took him a moment to realize he had just been staring at Peter silently with his hand on the other man’s shoulder.
Miguel cleared his throat awkwardly, “You’re doing great with her” was all he could manage before turning towards the door, not allowing Peter to respond.
The room seemed much emptier the moment Miguel had left it.