Son

*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uaY2IhwmHPM
(Track 16: Desert Ride - Duration: 2:19)

Moving quietly through the night, Richard Parker came to a halt as he signaled for his men behind him to do the same. He looked around the corner, seeing a guard blocking the entranceway. He slipped around the corner, effectively knocking the man out with the butt of his gun.

With a simple motion of his hand, the two other men followed him moved forward, their footsteps almost deafening in the quiet of the HYDRA base they had infiltrated.

They entered the room they were targeting. One of the two men moved forward, releasing a smoke bomb into the room and closing the door. Once they had all slipped on their masks, they crept into the room, their gazes watchful and assertive.

There it was.

All of the information that had been stolen from Nick Fury, right there in from of him. Richard advanced towards the computer panels quickly, only stopping when he heard a commotion behind him.

He whipped around, only to see his two agents on the floor, a red-haired woman standing over them, a menacing look in her eye as she ripped off her gas mask.

All the same, she was beautiful. Rich red curls cascaded just past her shoulders, and freckles dotted her perfect nose. Her lips were painted red, and her eyes bore into him with her stare as she stood with her guard down.

“Captain Richard Parker.”

“Who are you?” He questioned, taking a defensive stance, his weapon pointed at her.

“I’m Agent Mary Fitzpatrick. Data and analyst for the C.I.A.. I could imagine we’re here on the same mission?”

“Yeah? Well, so were they,” he said, indicating the two men lying on the ground with his gun.

“Sure. Well, one of them was, really. The other knocked the one out and tried to take you out. I just stopped him. You’re welcome.”

He studied her, contemplating whether to trust her story or not. He had no time to think, however, as he heard hurried voices coming from down the hall. Mary immediately jumped into action, raising her weapon to point at the door as she made her way to the side of the doorway to keep out of sight. She looked at him, then at a hard drive that was apparently already done downloading, and he grabbed it without a moment's hesitation.

Three men suddenly appeared in the hallway, their guns trained on Richard. The man lunged forward to take out the first gunman he saw, but Mary was faster. She quickly jumped from her place in the shadows and into action, swinging out her leg to trip the other two men and sent them to the ground, where she held them at gunpoint.

“Drop em’!” She demanded, indicating their guns. By then, Richard had the other guy pinned to the ground with a hand behind his back as he struggled to get out of his steel-like grip.

“Leave the guy with the brown hair. He’s one of theirs.” She indicated one of the two men that were lying unconscious on the ground as she rendered her opponents unconscious. Richard did the same, landing a hard punch before the other man fell to the ground.

“Looks like they haven’t had time to trip any alarms. Let’s get outta here.” Richard said as he slung his fallen soldier over his shoulder. He lifted two fingers to his ear. “I’ve got a man down, I repeat-- man down. Need air evac immediately. Over.” Once he got the go-ahead, they began to swiftly make their way back to safety.

As they stalked through the facility, the lights flickering uneasily, it was seemingly abandoned-- by anyone conscious, anyway. They passed many unconscious or even dead guards on their way out. Richard wondered, silently, if that was Mary’s doing.

So he did what any person would do-- he struck up a conversation.

“So, data, huh?”

“Yep. You?”

“Bioengineering.”

“Huh.”

A woman spoke over the comms then. “You’re approaching the rendezvous point. Ten paces to your left. Over.”

“Got it. Heading your way. Over.” Richard took a turn, Mary following closely behind as they burst out of one of the last doors and into the frigid night. The wind whipped around them as the helicopter hovered dangerously close, a harness already being lowered towards the ground.

Once they had loaded and were well on their way, Richard sat across from Mary.
“Individual mission, huh?” He questioned. The woman nodded from her place, her eyes closed as she leaned back.

“Yeah. Fury doesn’t tell me anything. Sure wish he warned me, I could’ve shot you on the spot.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why?” She was leaning forward now, her face dangerously close to his own.

“I don’t. . .um. . .I had no reason to.”

“But you did. You just said it yourself. You could have shot me on the spot, but you didn’t. Why did you hesitate? I’ve heard great things about you, but hesitation is not one of them.”

“I-I. . .uh” He stammered, dropping his gaze as he attempted to avoid her chocolate brown eyes.

He could see her smirk in his peripheral vision. “Real smooth, Cap. It’s a date.”

His head shot up, “What? I didn’t--” before he could finish his sentence, though, she was up and walking towards the pilots, leaning over the seat to get a better view of the skyline and the rising sun. The light captured the hues of her hair perfectly-- in a moment of clarity, it almost looked as if her head were on fire. No--her hair was the fire.

He looked at her in disbelief before chuckling.

------

There were a few other times her hair caught the light like that as if it were the fire, her face covered with freckles. Droplets of light where the sun had kissed her skin.

He found himself falling hard.

One of these times was a few days after that mission-- that night, where he had watched her watch the sunset, her eyes dancing. He contemplated her beauty, tracing every curve, every single flaw-- from the slight crook in her nose to the way she walked, all tucked away in the back of his mind. He liked to categorize; that’s all he knew. So he did just that.

The second time was their first date-- at a Gala in France. The ballroom was stunning, with windows that reached towards the sky, intricate designs that curved through the glass and made each one look like a painting-- the setting sun falling through the drapes that fluttered in the wind. A breeze rushed through the room, her dress-- that hung ever so slightly off of her frame, baby blue and dazzling-- swaying ever so slightly as he watched her ascend the stairs in awe and wonder. And her hair-- strands fell and obscured her perfect face; he brushed them back as they stood on a balcony overlooking the city-- and kissed her.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t catch her hair glowing every so often, defining her features in such a way that when she laughed it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her voice, melodic and seductive, was music to his ears that only he heard. The way she fought, too, was like a dance-- intricate, yet delicate all the same. She easily matched his strength and smarts, traits that only strengthened his love for her.

But the one time that truly stood out to him was as she walked down the aisle, her hair tucked back into a bun as she wore a simple, slimming white gown that hugged her figure and shimmered in the light pouring in from the church windows. Diamonds dripped from her ears, her lips painted a dark shade of crimson red. Her bouquet, filled with white lilies and baby’s breath-- her favorite, was held in her grasp in front of her. A veil that fell past her shoulders and drifted behind her was outlined in silk patterns depicting flowers and intricate designs.

The way that her hair caught the sun, that day in the heat of summer, made her glow. She was an angel. And she was his.

*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E-D0S505QzU
(Track 6 - Gabriel Arrives - Duration - 00:58)

It was only fate, that a year later, that glow returned as she and Richard sat side by side in her hospital bed, mid-August, watching their newborn son sleep in her arms. He held her tight as silent tears slid down his face, bringing a hand up to brush across the baby’s cheek.

“Welcome to the world, Peter. It’s an awfully big place, but we’re here to make it a little bit smaller.” As he said the words, his voice cracked, and something sparked in his chest. Something he had come to recognize as love-- pure, unbridled admiration and pride. Mary looked up at him, then, and pressed her forehead against his as they listened to each other's heartbeats. Their noses brushed, and he kissed her lips, perfect and beautiful. Like the son she now held.

The son that he now loved with his entire being.

As they rocked back and forth on the porch swing outside their house, Peter cooing in his arms and grappling at his shirt, Richard contemplated what kind of person he would become. Would he become a great man, whether it be through means of charity or by fame, or both-- he didn’t care. As long as he was happy. The boy’s smile broke his heart, and he would do anything to see it, even if it meant crawling to the ends of the Earth.

Mary, tucked into his side let out a sigh as she watched their son. The sun crept over the horizon to show its face to another family, somewhere on the other side of the world, content and alive.

He held these memories close to his heart as if they would be stolen away if left unprotected.

------

Before Peter was born, he asked his brother, Ben, and his fiancee May if they would be the baby’s godparents-- and of course, they accepted without hesitation, despite knowing what the job entailed. They seemingly loved the boy as much as his parents did, taking him in whenever his mother and father had to go away on missions.

But they couldn’t know. No, that would be too much. Better to think they were away on a business meeting.

Life went on with their new addition to the family, and weeks turned into months, the months ever so slowly morphing into years. Eventually, they would transform into decades.

But for now, Peter was two years old, grappling for his mother as he wined.

“Okay, okay baby,” May chuckled. She handed the toddler off to his mother, his unruly light brown curls bouncing. That’s something he had inherited from his father. His eyes, a deep shade of brown, were from his mother. He was perfect.

He quickly curled in her lap, drifting off as Mary ran her fingers through his unkempt hair lovingly.

It was a Sunday night at the Ben and May Parker’s apartment, the last light of day leaking away. Ben turned on his reading light as the room grew steadily darker.

“I can take him,” said Ben, standing up and scooping the sleeping child out of his sister-in-law’s arms.

“Thank you,” she replied, her touch lingering as he took Peter off of her lap. “I’m sorry we have to go away again. We’ll be back before he even knows we were gone.”

“It’s no trouble, really-- we love having him stay over.” May smiled with sincerity.

Once the boy was tucked into bed in the collapsible crib that the couple always had on hand, Richard handed May a suitcase.

“Make sure he sleeps plenty through the day-- but not too much, or else he’ll wake up later and you don’t want that. There’s baby food in his bag, but he can have a couple of solids, like baby carrots and--”

“Richard.” Ben smiled, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder in an attempt to calm his nerves. “He’ll be fine. We’ve done this a couple of times, remember? Mary wrote a list-- he’ll be okay.”

The man sighed. “Right. Well, thank you.” And with that, they walked out the door, down the hall and into the night.

A few days later, they returned, their toddler immediately running to the doors on wobbly legs to greet them. Richard smiled, dropping his things, and hugged his son tight.

Yeah, things were perfect.