[Third Person POV]
Felicia laid her arms across the cool marble countertop and let her forehead sink against it, exhaling a long, muffled groan into the polished surface. She could practically feel her mother's eyes boring into her head, a silent pressure that screamed confrontation. Avoidance had become her only strategy—if she stayed perfectly still, maybe Lydia would run out of steam on her own.
"I mean seriously, come on," Lydia finally scoffed, her voice sharp enough to slice through the kitchen's quiet hum. "And you aren't even the only one showing inconsistencies or weird behavior lately. Have you looked at Peter's uncle? He was at the hospital when you were admitted, so I know exactly how he looked before. Now?" She gestured dramatically, her bracelets clinking against each other. "He doesn't look like he used to, not even close. I swear it's like the man went and took a swan dive into the fountain of youth overnight. It's creepy!"
"How did it even come to this…" Felicia whined without lifting her head, her voice thick with exhaustion. She slouched lower, as if she was being drained of her strength.
"That's what I'm still wondering myself," Lydia shot back, folding her arms in exasperation. "How did we get here? How the hell did you develop these powers, and what about everything that came afterward?" She jabbed a finger toward Felicia like an accusing dagger. "I get that you and Peter are… a thing, but do you honestly expect me to believe the other girls in his little—ugh—harem would just welcome you with open arms? Is there even another word for that? For heaven's sake, I feel ridiculous even saying it." Lydia pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered a curse under her breath.
Felicia finally lifted her head just enough to peek at her mother, a faint chuckle escaping at Lydia's obvious discomfort. She reached behind her, fished her phone from her back pocket, and started tapping away.
"Can't you put that thing down for five minutes?" Lydia demanded, her tone half motherly scold and half growl. "We're having an actual conversation here, not a texting session. God, teenagers and their technology…"
Rolling her eyes, Felicia replied without looking up, "Relax, I'm sending Pete an SOS. I'm not dealing with this ambush solo."
Lydia's mouth fell open. "An SOS? Really?"
"Yep. Backup is on the way," Felicia said, hitting send with a satisfied tap. Then she turned her head slightly, her silver hair slipping over her shoulder. "Do you mind if he comes over for a bit?"
"Oh, now you ask for permission?" Lydia's voice shot up an octave, dripping with sarcasm. "Where was this sudden respect for authority last night when you snuck him inside?"
Felicia's cheeks burned crimson. "Can he come over or not?" she muttered, refusing to meet her mother's smug gaze.
Lydia let out a long, theatrical sigh, the kind that carried the weight of a parent's eternal frustration. "What does it even matter at this point? Clearly, I've lost control of this household."
"He's on his way," Felicia announced, setting her phone back on the counter with finality.
Before Lydia could fire off another remark, a low hum filled the room. A shimmering blue portal spiraled open behind Felicia. Out stepped Peter, arms flung wide in mock celebration.
"Mother-in-law!" he declared with exaggerated enthusiasm, grinning from ear to ear.
Lydia yelped and instinctively snatched the neck of her wine bottle from the counter, hurling it at Peter with startling precision. "Mother-in-law my boot, you degenerate!"
Peter caught the bottle with one hand in a fluid motion, tilting his head to the side as the portal closed behind him. "Ouch. That's a warm welcome if I've ever seen one," he said with a playful grin. "Come on, I thought you liked me."
"Yeah, that was before I discovered your perverse little harem," Lydia snapped, glaring daggers at him.
"Whoa," Peter muttered, his eyebrows shooting up. "She really does know everything…" He casually handed the bottle back to her before sliding onto the stool beside Felicia, who was silently shaking with laughter.
"I could charge you for trespassing, you know," Lydia grumbled, snatching the bottle and slamming it back onto the counter. "Next time, use the door like a normal human being."
Peter pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. "First things first… Greetings, Mother. How was your day?"
"Horrible, from sunrise until this exact second. And stop calling me Mother!" she barked.
"Fair enough. Let's rectify that, shall we?" Peter leaned forward, tone suddenly formal. "I am here today as a humble man, boyfriend, and hero, to ease your transition into understanding our relationship and… unique origins." He placed a hand over his heart with mock sincerity.
Lydia's eye twitched. "…You're seriously pissing me off."
Felicia broke into open laughter, covering her mouth as Peter maintained a perfectly straight face.
Then, almost seamlessly, his expression softened. "In all seriousness," he said, voice lowering, "We're sorry for not telling you sooner. Felicia wasn't sure how you'd react, given your history with her father, so we thought it best to wait. Please don't be too upset with her."
Both Lydia and Felicia blinked in perfect unison, staring at him as though he'd just sprouted a second head. Felicia even glanced around the kitchen, half expecting a hidden camera crew to pop out. "What… are you doing?" she asked, bewildered.
"Apologizing on your behalf," Peter replied calmly. "You're not the type to apologize for something you don't see as wrong, and as your partner, it's my responsibility to handle the diplomatic side of things."
"What? Apologizing for what? I didn't do anything wrong," Felicia said, blinking in bewilderment. Her voice pitched slightly higher than usual, betraying the confusion swirling in her chest.
"And there's the point in case," Peter chuckled, his tone warm but unyielding. He leaned forward on the counter, elbows resting casually. "This is a far more serious matter than you realize. Hiding a secret this big from your own mother? That alone deserves an apology. I'm someone who believes in honesty when it comes to family. It's why I've never hidden much of anything from Aunt May or Uncle Ben—well, not for long anyway." His brown eyes softened, steady and earnest. "I get wanting privacy. We all deserve it. But this—" he gestured between Felicia and Lydia, "—isn't the same as keeping a diary under your bed. We're putting our lives on the line every single time we put on the mask. The people who love us… the people who would mourn us if something happened… they deserve the truth, even when it's messy."
Felicia grimaced and looked away, her silver hair sliding like a curtain to shield her face. "Ugh…" she muttered, stealing a quick glance at her mother before snapping her eyes back to the countertop. "It's not like I was lying exactly. I just… didn't mention anything."
Peter gave a small, knowing smile. "A lie of omission," he said gently, "is still a lie." He reached over and took her hand, his thumb brushing soothing circles against her knuckles. "But like I said, you don't have to apologize if you don't want to. That's what I'm here for. As your partner, it's my responsibility to make amends on your behalf—especially since I'm at least partially responsible for dragging you into this side of life in the first place."
Lydia let out a loud, frustrated grunt and threw her head back. "Stop being so… so likeable and mature about this!" she burst out. "I'm trying to stay mad at you, and you're not making it easy!"
Peter flashed an unapologetic grin, squeezing Felicia's hand before releasing it. "I'm sorry, but that's not something I can control. It's a God-given gift, I'm afraid." He struck a ridiculous hero's pose, chin tilted upward, as though basking in the imaginary glow of his own charm.
Lydia rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't get stuck. "Ugh. Anyways!" she snapped, waving her wine glass for emphasis. "Explain everything to me from the very beginning—and don't you dare leave a single detail out."
Peter exhaled a theatrical sigh, like a storyteller preparing for a long saga. He opened his mouth and began sharing about the time he held up Oscorp, a feat he was still proud of up to this day.
Felicia groaned under her breath, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile.
Peter's eyes sparkled as he continued, his voice carrying the rhythm of a practiced narrator. "Then one day, in class, this absolute brat shows up out of nowhere." He turned to Felicia, grinning from ear to ear. "And he introduces himself as Felix Peterson."
Felicia's own smile widened until it practically matched his. She rubbed the back of her neck, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "He was our son. From the future."
Lydia had just lifted her wine glass when the words landed. She froze mid-sip. "Wha—" A strangled choke cut her off as the wine went down the wrong way. "COUGH—For—COUGH—for fuck's sake—cough—not again!" She slammed the glass down, clutching at her chest as she wheezed. "You're doing this on purpose!"
Felicia burst into uncontrollable laughter, leaning back against the counter as she fumbled with her phone. "Oh, you think we're joking? Hang on—here!" She scrolled rapidly through her photo gallery, cackling like a madwoman. "See? This is Felix."
Before Felicia could offer the screen, Lydia lunged forward and snatched the phone with the reflexes of a hawk. She wiped her mouth with a dish towel, eyes narrowing as she inspected the photo. The image showed Felicia beaming, pulling a tall, awkward boy close with an arm hooked around his shoulders. Felix stood stiffly beside her, his strained smile looking like it was being held together by sheer willpower.
"Holy crap…" Lydia whispered, her eyes darting back and forth between the boy's features and the two sitting in front of her. "He looks like… like a perfect blend of the two of you." Her voice cracked with disbelief. "Wait a minute—Felix. You named him after your father?"
Before either of them could answer, Lydia slammed the phone down on the counter and lunged across it, grabbing Felicia by the collar. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone who'd just choked on wine. "You're telling me my grandchild was here and you didn't let me meet him?!" she screeched, shaking her daughter back and forth like a rag doll. "What the hell is the matter with you?!"
"Let go of me you crazy woman!" Felicia yelped, her arms flailing.
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