PeterPov - 16 years ago
"Gwen." I breathed, holding my mask, feeling guilty as ever.
She smiled at me, biting her lip, "come here Peter." She held her free hand out.
Instead of moving to her, I moved to the door, locking it, and pulling the curtain, so no one would walk in.
I don't have a change of clothes with me.
Then I made my way to Gwen's hospital bed.
"I have a very special person for you to meet." She murmured, grabbing my hand when I was in reach, and pulling me to her, and the small bundle, all wrinkled, and pink. "Peter, this is Peter George Parker Jr. Your son." She bit her lip, looking up at me, I brushed her blonde hair out of her face. She had it in a messy bun, and she looked tired, but so beautiful.
"I'm too late." I sighed, leaning my forehead against hers. She shook her head, and looked down, "no, your perfect, hes perfect, we're perfect." She brushed her hand across his, and he cooed.
"You are so perfect." I nodded, and moved back.
"Want to hold him?" She looked up at me.
I nodded quickly, "yes but I don't know how."
"I'll show you." She grinned at me, sitting up, she held his head, and his bottom, "you just need to always support his neck and bottom." I nodded, paying attention to the way her fingers cradled the side of his head, I did the same.
I backed up to the chair next to her bed, sitting down, the small wrapped bundle in my arms.
"Peter." Gwen said quietly.
I brushed my fingers through the dark brown thick tuft of hair on my sons head, he made a noise, stretching his arms out.
"Big stretch buddy." I mumbled, putting my thumb into his small hand, his whole hand wrapped around it, and still wasn't able to fit all the way around.
"Do you like him?" She questioned.
It was the most loaded question ever, but such a simple answer. I shook my head no.
He had wiggled out of his blanket, thanks to my lack of expertise on holding newborns, I could see he had ten, wiggling fingers, and a matching set of toes.
I looked up at Gwen, and smiled at her worried expression, "I love him Gwen." My voice wavered.
She was crying, I looked back down at our slumbering son, I had him laid on my lap, and he had completely stretched out, making himself comfortable.
He had a few scratches on his face from his sharp little baby nails, a bandaid on his left foot, a hospital bracelet on his right ankle, a blue hat on his head, and a diaper, but otherwise was calm and content in absolutely no clothes.
The room was warm so I couldn't think of anything to worry about in the moment, I took down the front of my suit, and pulled my arms free, placing my hand back in his, he was so incredibly soft.
"What's the bandaid?"
"Blood."
I froze, looking up at her, licking my lips.
"Blood test Gwen?"
She stared at me confused, I gave her a minute, I could see when it dawned on her.
"Oh."
I chuckled gently, getting up and sliding little Peter back into her arms. She looked up at me.
