Felicia Hardy looked tired but radiant, cradling the tiny bundle in her arms—the newborn son she'd just brought into the world with Peter Parker.
Hawk and Gwen stood by her bedside, smiling softly.
The baby was so small, peaceful, and fragile—but those eyes, pale gray-blue with a misty glimmer, were unmistakably Felicia's.
A thin layer of soft platinum-blond fuzz covered his head—another inheritance from his mother, since Peter's hair was pure black.
Gwen stared, completely captivated. "Wow… he's adorable."
Felicia smiled warmly at her. "Do you two have plans for one yet?"
"Of course."
Gwen laughed. "Two boys and one girl—that's the family I want."
Just like her parents: two brothers and one daughter.
Gwen had grown up surrounded by love, and she wanted to pass that same happiness on.
Hawk turned his gaze toward Peter, who was gently stroking his son's tiny head from the other side of the bed. "Got a name yet?"
Peter nodded. "Ben."
"…Ben?" Hawk raised a brow. "After your Uncle Ben?"
Peter nodded again. "Yeah. Uncle Ben taught me something I'll never forget when I was lost. So my son's name is Ben."
In some cultures, naming a child after an elder might seem disrespectful.
But in America—it was an honor.
If Hawk ever named a son "George," George wouldn't be offended; he'd probably be proud.
Still, Hawk thought with a faint grin—George Stacy naming a child after himself? That would never happen.
He looked back at the baby. "So… Ben Parker?"
Peter opened his mouth to answer, but Felicia spoke first. "His full name is Ben Hawk Parker."
Hawk froze. "What?"
Felicia smiled. "Peter wants you to be his godfather."
Hawk turned to Peter.
Peter gave a sheepish grin.
Hawk smiled in return. "It would be my honor."
He hadn't expected that—not only to be the godfather, but to have his own name passed down as the baby's middle name.
In this country, that meant something. It wasn't mockery or formality—it was respect. It was friendship made permanent.
And becoming a godfather wasn't a casual title like "uncle" or "goddad."
A godfather was part of the baptismal rite, formally appointed before God and witnesses.
Traditionally, godparents had to be baptized themselves, since their role was to guide the child's faith.
Hawk had been baptized—as an infant left on a church's doorstep, no less.
He hadn't chosen faith; it had chosen him.
But believing in God didn't stop him from planning to storm Heaven one day.
He didn't reject God—he simply intended to take His place for a while.
Anyway…
The godfather was more than a title. He was the witness, the spiritual sponsor—the guarantor of the ritual.
So…
Hawk thought for a moment, then said, "I'll check with Father Gabriel at St. Mark's about scheduling the baptism."
St. Mark's Church wasn't the biggest in Manhattan, but it was one of the most respected—centuries old, and known for its solemn ceremonies.
Hawk smiled toward Felicia. "And I'll have to think carefully about what kind of gift to give my godson for his baptism."
Felicia chuckled. "You should. That's exactly why we asked you."
Peter panicked a little. "Felicia—she's just joking—"
"Peter."
Hawk stopped him with a smile. "Relax. It's your big day—you've got a son, and I've got a godson. Congratulations, Peter."
Peter's face softened as he looked down at Felicia and the sleeping infant in her arms.
A shy, genuine smile spread across his face.
After staying a little longer to chat and admire baby Ben, Hawk and Gwen hugged both parents and quietly took their leave once the baby drifted off to sleep.
Outside the hospital, Gwen glanced at Hawk. "Weren't you planning to tell Peter about your doctorate? You said you wanted to make him jealous."
Starting the car, Hawk smiled faintly. "Not today. Today belongs to Peter. He deserves a happy day."
Gwen looked at him, smiling softly.
It was also his happy day.
Not because he'd been named godfather, but because he'd managed to change Spider-Man's fate—a life once steeped in tragedy—into one of joy.
That, more than power or victory, filled him with a deep and quiet sense of fulfillment.
Gwen misunderstood slightly, thinking of the losses Peter had endured—his parents, Uncle Ben—and nodded.
"Hawk," she said gently.
"Yeah?"
"You're actually a really kind person."
"I know."
He smiled at her.
And he truly believed it.
Sure, he'd killed plenty of people—but never innocents.
Every battle he'd fought, he'd made sure to keep far from cities and civilians.
Unlike those so-called superheroes who seemed magnetically drawn to crowded areas.
Hawk wasn't like them.
He'd known what it was like to stand in the rain—so now, he offered others an umbrella.
Yes. He was kind.
When they returned to Palm Street, they didn't go straight home. Passing by St. Mark's Church, they stopped in.
Inside, Hawk met with the priest to arrange the baptism.
Such churches were always busy—some parents even reserved baptisms before the child was born.
And time mattered. Baptisms were ideally held within weeks or months of birth, to cleanse the newborn of original sin as soon as possible.
Because Hawk was a "regular donor," Father Gabriel found them a date—April 25th.
After making a generous donation, Hawk called Peter to confirm.
Peter and Felicia, as the parents, would need to attend a short pre-baptism class.
Hawk didn't need to.
He'd once been part of the St. Paul's choir; sermons, prayers—he could practically teach them himself.
Growing up an orphan in a church, pretending to be devout had been a survival skill.
Just like Samael, before he became Lucifer Morningstar—the most loyal angel of all.
Hanging up, Hawk frowned thoughtfully. "You think Peter asked me to be godfather because he's broke and wanted me to cover the baptism fee?"
Technically, baptisms were free.
But churches ran on "donations," not fees—and St. Mark's usually expected about two thousand dollars per ceremony.
Gwen laughed as she got into the car. "It's the godfather's duty to sponsor his godchild's baptism. You could always refuse and give up the title."
Hawk grinned. "No chance. Ben Hawk Parker's middle name is my name. I'm his godfather, and no one else gets that honor."
And honestly—he didn't mind helping Peter.
After all, of the three Spider-Men he'd known, the first—this one—was still his favorite.
Starting the car, Hawk smiled at Gwen. "So… what should I give my godson?"
Gwen smirked. "You already have something in mind, don't you?"
"Yes."
He nodded. He'd decided the moment Peter asked him to be godfather.
"What is it?"
"It's—"
Before he could answer, Gwen's phone rang.
She glanced at the screen. "It's Mom."
Hawk raised an eyebrow. "Probably about your doctorate."
Gwen smiled, nodding as she picked up the call—ready to share the good news.
But the voice on the other end was trembling.
"Gwen—come to the hospital, quick!"
"Your father's been shot—he's in surgery!"
"Hurry!"
"…"
(End of Chapter)
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