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Spy isn't used to having his mask off in a room where sunlight streams in through the windows. The feeling is strange to him, and even after living in this house for over a year, he can't help glancing around for anyone that might see. Logically he knows that he's safe, there's only one other person in the room with him- but that's the problem, really. Jeremy's still too tiny to defend himself, so were any trouble to arise, Spy would be forced to kill for both of them.
He watches the infant from his place on a velvet armchair, trying to ignore his longing for a cigarette. Jeremy's not doing anything too dangerous at least; toddling about on his colourful blanket and waving a little plastic key around. The key is covered in little teeth dents and a bit of drool, but Spy's mostly gotten used to the constant sticky uncleanness of a house with a baby in it.
The boy's mother is out for a few hours, and his brothers are all busy with their own various activities, so Spy's been left to take care of him himself. It's not the first time he's been left alone with Jeremy, but it's not exactly one of many, and Spy's praying that someone else get back sooner rather than later lest something bad happen and he be the only one to blame. Or worse, Jeremy needing to be changed. Spy has only ever had to deal with that once, but he's been plotting ways to avoid the task ever since.
Jeremy burbles some unintelligible gibberish as he wobbles towards Spy, presenting him with the key and staring up at him with those big, blue eyes of his, clearly expecting him to take it. His mother's eyes, Spy's sure of that. A line of drool hangs from the corner of his parted lips, his jaw hanging slightly open to breathe since his nose is noticeably blocked with snot.
Spy tuts disapprovingly and whips a white handkerchief from his pocket- startling Jeremy and making him stumble back a few clumsy steps- before carefully taking Jeremy's face in one gloved hand and wiping all dribble and snot away. Jeremy blinks and tries to flinch away, but Spy ignores the gesture.
Why did babies have to be so filthy, he wonders. Sure, supposedly they can't help it, but along the evolutionary chain someone had to consider whether it was even worth keeping the wretched thing at all. Sometimes they were cute, and Spy must admit he is not immune to the activation of paternal affection, but only very rarely did he feel the need to take action over it.
Once done cleaning his son's face, he neatly folds the handkerchief in half, gently taking the still offered key with the clean side. Jeremy stares at him for a moment, perplexed, before releasing another stream of gibberish. He toddles forward until he's leaning against Spy's knees, arms up and outstretched.
Spy examines his son, eyebrow raised. "Non, Mon petit monstre. You are still filthy, you will soil my suit."
Jeremy frowns, grasping at the air and leaning harder against Spy's legs, insistent. "Dada."
Spy scoffs, begrudgingly beginning to remove his suit shirt so that only the dress shirt- which is much easier to wash snot and drool out of- remains. "Playing the 'dad' card already, are we?" After hanging the suit in the back of the chair, he scoops Jeremy up into his arms so that he's standing on his lap. "I imagine you'll want to use that just as much in the future, hm?"
Jeremy braces his hands on Spy's shoulders and stares at his feet, making a series of unseen calculations before plopping hazardously onto Spy, almost falling off if not for his handfuls of Spy's shirt. And Spy himself protecting him from such risk, of course.
Spy sighs, gently bouncing Jeremy up and down on his knee the way he'd seen Colleen do so many times, much to the boy's delight. "What am I going to do with you, cher?"
He's not cut out for this, it's blatantly obvious. The boy won't be of much use at least until he can talk, and who knows when he'll actually be able to defend himself. Spy knows he can't let himself get attached to something so tiny and fragile, something that begs for safety and stability when all Spy will bring is change. There's no question that his past will catch up to him if he doesn't keep moving, the only questions are who gets hurt and when. He's been here too long already, he knows that, but there's a part of him that can't bring himself to leave his son here where he can't protect him.
Jeremy sneezes, frowning at Spy in surprise at his own abilities. A smile tugs at the corner of Spy's lips, amused by the gesture. "Aw, Mon petit lapin de poussière." He tickles Jeremy's nose with the tip of his gloved finger, making the boy sneeze again. Jeremy grabs Spy's finger and holds it in both hands, cooing and frowning at him very seriously.
Spy makes a face at him in the hopes of getting him to laugh, but Jeremy just stares curiously at him instead, so he hands him the key he'd been given earlier. Jeremy takes it without a word and brings it straight back to his mouth to chew on, staring at Spy once more.
Spy stares back, feeling about as empty and unsure as he thought he would. Every gesture Jeremy makes holds so much meaning, and as someone who's trained his whole life to decipher body language, Spy can make sense of most of it. It's easy to tell from his crying when he's hurt or had a nasty shock, but it can be difficult to distinguish from the cries he makes when hungry or needs changing. Laughing and smiling is obvious enough as happiness, of course. The garbled attempts at language are just copying from what he hears around him, only seeming to truly understand about ten words in total, despite his near constant blathering.
But the long and meaningful stares, Spy finds far more disturbing. There can't yet be any higher thought going on behind those bright blue eyes, but sometimes Spy swears that Jeremy means something by it. For all the world he looks like he's judging Spy, knowing that sooner or later he's going to either fuck everything up or leave before he gets the chance. Challenging him to admit it. To do it already, to get it over with and be out of their lives.
Jeremy is giving Spy such a stare now, frowning at him without blinking. In one tiny, chubby hand he holds the plastic key halfway out of his mouth, covered in drool as always, but Jeremy's attention is fully focused on his father.
Spy frowns back, suddenly feeling defensive. "It's not that I don't love you or your mother, you know. I don't want to leave you, but it's too dangerous."
Jeremy doesn't change, still staring, seemingly seeing through Spy's false-truth.
Spy sighs through his nose. The truth of course, is that he's not cut out for any of this. He could say that he's not ready, but being 'ready' would require undoing all the years of espionage training to always be on the move and never get attached. Not to mention his further years of experience in the field- every bump in the night is a threat, every funny look at the grovery store, every car that takes one too many turns to follow them down the street. Every night he spends in the same house is another night his enemies might find him and destroy that which he loves the most.
You could say Spy trying to be a parent is like trying to use a car jack to make a cake. He just isn't the right tool for the job; everyone would be better off if he was elsewhere.
Jeremy huffs, shifting so that he can lean against Spy comfortably. Spy tuts and puts an arm around Jeremy to help support him. "Aw, es tu fatigué?"
Jeremy echoes the syllables of Spy's sentence back to him in a mumble, before letting out a sigh as his eyelids droop. Spy hums and scoops Jeremy up to carry- "Come on amour, let's get you to bed then." He carries his son on his shoulder through the house, well decorated with photos of the family.
Spy pauses at one of the photos; Colleen, himself and Jeremy, smiling at the camera in front of the biggest Smissmas tree in the lot. Spy stares at it fondly, remembering that day, one of few days when he felt like a proper part of the family. Like there was a world in which he could stay here, stay and be a good father to his son. Colleen must've just put it up this morning, hung on a nail before she rushed off to work.
Spy will have to take it with him when he leaves, he realises. There can't be any trace of him left behind. His soft smile fades, sobered by the thought.
Soon, but blessedly not yet. Spy continues down the hall until he reaches the room with Jeremy's cot, carefully lowering him towards it. This action greatly disturbs Jeremy, who frowns and wriggles and stretches his arms back out to Spy. "Ah- Ah! Dada!!"
Spy frowns, and lifts Jeremy back up to hold. Jeremy settles back into place upon his chest, thumb in mouth and beginning to drool once more. Spy smiles affectionately, dread building in his heart.
How will he be able to bring himself to leave this boy? His son, who loves Spy with such open trust in the way only an infant can? What will it do to Jeremy to have to grow up without him? Spy can hardly bear to imagine how deeply Jeremy will resent him once he's old enough to understand; to miss his father and yet have no comprehension of who he was or why he had to leave.
Perhaps it would've been better if the boy had never been born at all, Spy considers. A weight off Spy's conscience, and certainly one less mouth for poor Colleen to feed. Maybe he could take Jeremy with him when he leaves? No, it would break Colleen's heart for sure. Besides, his work is far too dangerous for a child, and his love for Jeremy would only be used against him.
Spy shakes his head. Jeremy isn't a burden, and he cannot think of him as one. Colleen will take good care of him, and Spy will anonymously provide support whenever it is safe to do so, and he will one day grow into a clever and capable adult. Spy is sure of it.
Perhaps, once he's older, they might meet. Spy isn't sure whether that'd be a good thing or not, but if the boy wants answers, it will be within his rights to receive them. Would it be better to tell the truth, to let Jeremy know once and for all that none of it was his fault and Spy couldn't have stayed for him no matter what; or to lie and make himself out to be the uncaring deadbeat, to take all the blame so that Jeremy can just give up on him and move on.
Bridges that can only be crossed once he gets to them, Spy decides. For now, he carries his son back to the sunny living room and sits back down in his nice velvet chair, eyes scanning the room automatically. Jeremy mumbles something that sounds almost like words, and shifts to be more comfortable. Spy takes careful note of the spots of drool that line his shoulder-sleeve with a sigh. Colleen will be home soon enough.
God, how he longs for a cigarette.