𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙸-𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙾𝙴𝚂

Chapter 1

"Wade! I know you're in there! Open up!"

"Open the door, Wade. You know she won't go away."

The man named Wade sighed as he got up off the couch where he had been sitting with Blind Al. He opened the door, immediately met with a harsh slap. "Thanks for nothing, maldito bastardo!" the woman yelled, an accent in her tone, beginning to hit him with the diaper bag she had in her free hand. "You're a fucking bitch, Wade!"

He pushed the bag away, irritated. "What do you want?"

She stopped hitting him, glaring at him. "After all this time, that's all you have to say?!"

His gaze turned to the small child in her arms that was wrapped in a small, soft f/c blanket. "This your son, Wade! ¡Tu hijo!"

"What?"

"Don't 'what' me! You left me for nine months! Nine months, Wade! Take responsibility!"

"We were both drunk as shit! Why should I take all the responsibility?! You seduced me!"

"Oh, I seduced you? What a fucking lie! You came onto, calling me 'baby' and all that shit, hijo de puta!"

The baby started crying, wailing its arms as it listened to the yelling. "So, you decided to come to my house and bring the kid here?"

"What else, stupid?! He's your son too! I decided to leave him with you!"

She grew ticked off by the face he made. "You got a problem, Wade?!"

"Yeah, I got a fucking problem! You can't bring the kid here! I'm not a family man!"

"You should've fucking thought about that before you decided to stick it in! Asshole!"

She threw the bag at him and placed the baby in his arms. "Take some responsibility, Wade."

With that, she walked off, her dark brown hair flowing behind her. "Bonita! Bonita, you can't do this to me! Bonita!"

He groaned in frustration and slammed the door shut with his foot. "Mm, mm, mm. You really messed up now, Wade," Blind Al spoke, staring straight ahead.

"Al, what am I supposed to do now?"

"You brought this on yourself, Wade. Like she said. Take some responsibility."

Wade looked down at the small child that continued crying in his arms, irritating him. "It doesn't even look like me..."

--

"What? Hold on. Wait, wait, wait. So-- this woman you slept up with, like a year ago, came by your house to drop off her kid?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what happened."

"So, are you gonna take care of it?"

"Fuck no, Weasel. Why would I do that?"

"You just said he was your son though--"

"No, no, no. It's her son. Not mine."

"Do you even know his name?"

"No. I don't. She left before I could even bother to ask her."

"What are you gonna call him then?"

"Hell if I know. He can be called 'that thing' for all I care."

Weasel sighed. "What did Al say about it?"

"She told me to take responsibility."

"Then listen to her--"

"Weasel, I came because you're my bud. My pal. Let's not talk about that brat."

"Face it, Wade. Whether you like it or not, that kid's your son. And if you go about it the way you are...that kid's gonna grow up to hate you."

Wade didn't answer. Instead, he looked away, taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage.

--

As Wade entered his house, he heard a child's laughter. Weasel smiled slightly. "Sounds like the kid's having fun."

They peeked into the kitchen to see Blind Al with the small child in her arms. She was telling a story. Although the baby couldn't understand what she was saying, he found her facial expressions funny. "Look at that, Wade... He can act like that. Be a father."

"Hey, Al."

She stopped playing with the child. "Hello, Wade."

"I'm here too, Al."

"And Weasel."

Weasel walked over to her and kneeled down. "Hey there, kid. I'm Weasel. Can you say 'Weasel'?" he said in a childish voice.

"He can't talk, Weasel," Blind Al said. "He's a newborn."

"Right. I knew that," he replied awkwardly, standing up. "So, what's his name?"

"I told you it's 'tha--"

"Y/n."

"Y/n?"

"Y/n Wilson. That's his name."

"You can't give him by surna--"

"I can and I did. He's your blood and flesh, Wade. Accept it."

"Fine. Whatever."

Wade walked up to his room, leaving the two with the baby. "I guess from today on, I'll be your uncle, little Y/n."

--

"Y/n, pass me the TV remote, would you?"

"Okay!"

The little boy ran over to the coffee table and grabbed the remote, handing it to her. "Thank you."

He giggled and went back to the kitchen table to finish coloring a picture he drew. Once he finished, he ran over to Blind Al. "Nana, look!"

"I can't see it, my boy, but I'm sure it's a masterpiece."

He smiled, not really knowing what the word meant but seeing her smile made him think it was a good thing. "Will Papa like it?"

She didn't really know how to answer that until the door opened. "Papa!"

Wade looked over at the little boy, who ran up to, showing him his drawing. It was a drawing of the little boy with his father beside him. "You like it, Papa? It's me and you!"

He cringed a little and turned away from the boy, walking down the hall. He lowered the picture, watching his father's figure move farther and farther away. A saddened expression was on his face. Tears began to prick the corners of his eyes. Weasel, who had come in with Wade, kneeled down in front of him.

"Uncle Weasel..." the boy whispered before silently crying.

The man placed his hand on Y/n's small, delicate shoulder. "Don't cry, Y/n. You know your Papa doesn't mean it. He's just-- a little mad right now."

He sniffled, rubbing his eyes to wipe the tears away. Weasel felt bad hearing him cry. He got up, smiling. "Hey. How about we hang it up on the fridge. Maybe when your Papa's feeling better tomorrow, he'll see it when he gets up. It'll make him really happy."

"Really...?"

"Yeah!"

The boy wiped his tears away and smiled. "Okay."

Once in the kitchen, Weasel lifted him up so he could place the picture on the fridge with a magnet. He then set him down. "That's a really good picture, Y/n. You might be an artist when you're older."

He ruffled the child's h/c hair, making him giggle, his smile still on his face. Weasel himself smiled at the sight. "Now, go with Nana. I'm sure she'll put some cartoons on for you to watch."

"Okay, Uncle!"

He watched as the small child ran to the living room, jumping onto the couch beside Al. His smile faltered. "How can you not smile at that, Wade...?"