Chapter Text
Peter loved Halloween. Seriously. He loved it. Even if he hadn’t gone all-out (like he used to in his teens, when the times were different and he was younger and it was more socially acceptable to dress up) in years, it was still probably his favorite holiday. Christmas came close, but there was just something about the chilly-but-not-quite-cold air, changing leaves, and general spookiness of the season that he just couldn’t get enough of.
This year’s Halloween was going to be especially great. Sure, his summer had been rough, what with the crazy world-ending mutant Apocalypse guy, and his month in a cast, and that whole telling-Erik-he-was-Peter’s-father debacle. But now that was over, and the X-Mansion was completely and totally rebuilt, and school had just started back up in September, and Peter had found a bunch of cool new friends in the X-Men (although he wasn’t totally sure the term ‘cool’ could be applied to Scott and be accurate, even for as much as Scott tried to prove otherwise), and his favorite holiday was just a couple days away.
“Alright, scrubs,” he announced, slamming his plate down on the lunch table and flopping into his seat, “We’re taking a road trip today.”
“What for?” Kurt asked, still chewing his hamburger.
“Halloween is in four days. We’re going to all the thrift stores and getting costumes and makeup and whatever we need.”
Scott chuckled and pointed his fork at Peter. “Dress up? What, are we planning on going trick-or-treating? Cause I think you’re a little old for that.”
“No, you dingus, I’m throwing a Halloween party. And there’s gonna be a costume competition.”
“And how exactly are we supposed to get downtown to buy what we need?”
“I have my driver’s license, you know.”
Jean lifted one eyebrow and smirked. “Yeah, but the Professor probably won’t let us go out without an adult.”
“I am an adult.”
“Legally, maybe. Mentally? That’s up in the air. Besides, all Charles owns are really nice cars, and there’s no way he’d let you take one out. Everybody knows you speed like crazy.”
“Well, then we’ll drag Hank and Raven along with us. They’re fairly responsible.”
“Sorry,” Raven interrupted, “But Hank and I already have our costumes.”
“Well, technically, I have a costume,” Hank corrected. “Raven doesn’t really need one.”
Jubilee scoffed. “You are so lucky you can shapeshift. My costume took forever to make. And I still have to get my hair all straight, which is a total pain in my ass.”
“Who are you going to be?” Ororo asked, cocking her head to one side.
“Um, that’s a secret. Obviously. You guys are gonna be so blown away though.”
Raven pursed her lips and glared at Peter, eyebrows furrowed. “I know who you should ask.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Erik.”
Peter cackled. “Right. I’m sure he’d love to spend all day shopping with a bunch of teenagers.”
“You’d be surprised. He told me he wants to spend more time with you.”
“Spending time and shopping are totally different. I’m not asking Erik.”
“Not asking Erik what?”
Peter whipped around in his chair, and there, standing behind him, towering over him, was Erik, his dad, arms folded and a smirk creeping its way across one side of his face.
“Wha- Nothing.”
“Peter.”
“Seriously, you wouldn’t be interested, I don’t want to bother you-”
“I’m already here, just tell me.”
Peter shifted his shoulders and groaned. “We’re going Halloween shopping. But Jean says that the Prof won’t let us out of the house without a ‘responsible adult’ or something like that.”
“And you’re not a responsible adult?”
“That’s still up for debate.”
Erik chuckled and lifted an eyebrow. “I have no plans for the rest of the day, if you’re in need.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Alright, cool. We’ll meet you in the garage in 15?”
His dad nodded and walked away, and Peter turned back to his friends at the table. “Guess we’re set then. Finish your food and get whatever you need. Garage in 15 minutes.”
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Erik and Peter stood together in the thrift store, arms folded, looking out over the rest of the team perusing the racks.
“You’re not buying anything?” Erik asked, looking at his son with his brows knitted together.
“Oh, I’ve had my costume done for like a week now. It’s not really something I could buy, so I had to have Mom help me make it.”
“How is your mother?”
“She’s okay. Wendy just started her last year of high school, and Mom’s kinda stressed about the whole college-search thing, but they seem like they’re doing well right now.”
“You have a sister?”
“Half-sister, yeah. That’s Wendy. She’s kind of a pain in my ass, but she has her moments.”
“How old?”
“Seventeen.”
“And is she… like us?”
“No,” Peter chuckled. “Thank God.”
Erik let out a little “Hmm,” and returned to watching the teenagers.
It was quiet for a few long minutes (except for the obnoxiously peppy music playing softly over the store’s speakers, and Peter wondered if you could request music at a store like you could at a bar or something, or maybe at least request a radio station for them to play?), until Erik broke the silence.
“When did you find out?”
“About what?”
“About me.”
“Oh. You know that day in DC, when you tried to kill Nixon?”
“Yes, I was there.”
“Ha, ha. Well your whole brotherhood-of-mutants speech was kind of on every news station, and Mom was watching it with me and Wendy, and I was like, oh shit, that’s the guy that I just broke out of the Pentagon, and now he’s trying to kill the President and threatening, like, all humans, I kinda fucked up there, but I didn’t say anything about it, and then I noticed that Mom looked really shocked about the whole thing. Like, more than you would expect with a guy threatening like all humans. And I waited until later that day when Wendy had gone to bed, and I asked her why she was so shaken up about it, and she broke the news.”
“That can’t have been the most pleasant time for you to find out.”
“Yeah, it kind of sucked. I was really angry about the whole thing for a long time. Mom told me maybe five years ago about all the stuff that happened when you were younger, and about the whole Nazi-hunting thing, and I was kind of less angry after that. I mean, I know it’s still attempted murder and everything, even if you have a cool motive, but still. I became pretty much okay with everything about three years ago.”
“So you’ve known for ten years.”
“Yeah.”
“And accepted it for three.”
“Right.”
“And you never once tried to confront me?”
“When I was pissed about it, I thought about finding you and beating the shit out of you a lot. But you were kind of in hiding, and Mom didn’t want me leaving the house much then anyways. I was younger and stupider, and she knew you were dangerous.”
“Interesting use of the past tense.”
“`Scuse me?”
“You said, ‘were dangerous’. I’m still dangerous, Peter,” Erik smiled, though only half-joking.
“Yeah, but so am I now. I’m all trained and everything. And you wouldn’t attack me now anyways.”
Erik grinned his shark-like grin and shoved Peter with his shoulder. “Don’t push your luck, young man.”
“Please, old man,” Peter returned the grin, “You couldn’t catch me even if I did piss you off.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. There’s plenty of metal in what you’re wearing right now.”
Peter placed one hand over his heart and gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t.”
“No promises,” Erik replied, staring at his son, his shark grin fading into a smaller smile.
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All the younger kids spilled into the great hall before anyone that Peter actually knew. He had made sure to set up his record player and sound system at the front of the room, opposite from the doors, so he could see everybody that walked in.
“How did you get your hair that color?” A voice from behind him asked, and Peter jumped nearly three feet in the air.
“Jesus, Kurt!” Peter huffed, clutching his chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“I did what?” Kurt backed away, looking horrified.
“Not literally, dude, it’s just an expression.”
“Oh.” Regaining his cool, Peter got an opportunity to actually look at Kurt’s costume. His jacket and pants were the same striking shade of red, and someone (if Peter knew anything, it was probably Jubilee) had styled his black hair into a hundred little curls.
“Michael Jackson?”
“You figured that out quickly.”
“Yeah, well, he’s got a pretty distinct style. Besides, music’s my thing, remember?”
“Right. So how did you get your hair that color?”
“It’s just hair dye.”
“So your hair will be stuck like that?”
“Only for a couple of days, then it’ll be back to normal.”
“Oh.”
“Kurt!” Jubilee’s voice echoed throughout the room. “You look great!”
Peter and Kurt headed over to meet her and Ororo, who she had walked in with. Jubilee was clad in a bright blue, full-body jumpsuit, and her long hair fell straight down her back. Ororo had colored her hair black, drawn on a skinny goatee, and wore an entirely purple suit.
Peter lifted one eyebrow and grinned, folding his arms. “Cher and Prince. You guys are too easy. Good job, though.”
“You too, man. This is awesome,” Jubilee said, reaching out to poke at Peter’s face. “Did you put any powder so it doesn’t smudge?”
“No, so don’t touch it.”
She pulled her hand back and pursed her lips. “Dude.”
“Oh my god,” Scott announced as he and Jean walked into the great hall, “You guys look ridiculous.”
Peter looked past Jubilee to see Scott and Jean, and cackled. “Like you’re one to talk, pompadour.”
“Hey, I look cool.”
“You look wrong,” Ororo murmured. “Danny Zuko didn’t wear sunglasses.”
“Yeah, well Danny Zuko didn’t have laser eyes.”
“And Sandy wasn’t a redhead,” Jubilee continued. “You look super hot though, Jean.”
Jean just smiled good-naturedly and thanked Jubilee. “You guys look great too. Pete, where on Earth did you get that outfit?”
Peter grinned and adjusted his shoulders. “I made it.”
“No way.”
Scott scoffed. “You so do not have the patience for that.”
“I’ll have you know I will always have the patience for Halloween.”
“Yeah, well you might be the only one.”
“Hey, kids.” Hank’s voice came from the doorway, and they all turned to see him, normal-looking and not blue, glasses-free, in a black jacket, white shirt, and black pants with a utility belt. Raven was next to him, also not blue, and her hair was dark and braided up in a ring around her head. She was in all white, with a puffy vest over an equally puffy jacket, and they both had fake laser guns attached to their hips.
“Oh my god,” Jubilee clapped, “You guys look great!”
“Raven, why didn’t you just shapeshift into Carrie Fisher?” Peter asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Because then it’s not a costume. And it’d be weird for me to look just like Carrie Fisher and have Hank not look just like Harrison Ford.”
Peter shrugged. “I guess that’s fair.”
“And why isn’t there any music? I thought you were the DJ?”
“Oh, shit!” Peter raced back over to the front of the hall and put Thriller on his record player, and the everyone in the room started to dance. Satisfied with his choice, Peter leaned back on the wall and just watched everybody else. He barely noticed Erik striding up and leaning next to him (except for the fact that of course he did, he was acutely aware of every time Erik was anywhere near him, because holy shit, oh my god, it was his dad! His dad his dad his dad and it was a little easier now that they both knew about everything but that didn’t mean that he didn’t still get a little freaked out every time Erik talked to him, he couldn’t help it), until he spoke.
“I thought the lightning bolt was a shirtless look. Didn’t Bowie have the circle-” he motioned to his forehead and swirled his finger around- “when he wore that outfit?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think Charles would approve of me going shirtless. And the lightning bolt is more iconic than the circle.”
“Hm.”
“I’m impressed you know David Bowie that well.”
Erik shrugged. “I figured it might be beneficial if we tried to learn a bit about one another’s interests.”
Peter turned to his dad, a grin spreading across his face. “So I should start learning about turtlenecks and holding grudges for decades?”
“Very funny.”
“Seriously, though, I don’t know shit about your interests.”
“You could stand to learn chess.”
Peter groaned. “Are you kidding me? That’s gonna take forever. You know I don’t do stuff slowly.”
“Haven’t you ever the phrase ‘patience is a virtue’?”
“Yeah, and it’s a virtue I don’t have. Sorry to disappoint.”
Erik knit his eyebrows together and took a long look at Peter. “You don’t.”
“Huh?”
“You’re not a disappointment.”
Peter chuckled nervously. “It was just a joke, dude.”
“I understand that. But you should know that it’s true. You’re not a disappointment. Not to me or anyone else here.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it, Peter.”
Peter shifted his jaw and his shoulders and looked over at Erik, his dad, not just his father, his dad, whose blue eyes drilled into him without a hint of insincerity, and Peter just knew, he knew, he knew Erik meant it.
“I know. And I can’t speak for everyone, only me, but…” Peter chewed at his lip. “You’re not a disappointment either.”
Erik smiled slightly and lifted one eyebrow, looking over at his son without turning his head. “Would you have said that ten years ago?”
Peter scoffed. “Hell no.”