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On the list of Mayday’s potential babysitters, Miguel comes dead last. He should feel insulted when Spider-Rex is running around HQ, but at least he never gets dragged into Peter B. Parker’s nonsense.
Until now.
“Hey, think fast!” Peter calls out.
Fast, Miguel thinks, distracted tracking a new canon event, before a baby falls into his arms and he thinks fuck! instead.
“I heard that!”
“You seem to be missing something,” he says, holding Mayday aloft while she clambers down his arm. “Take her with you.”
“Nah, I think you’ll do a great job,” Peter lies. Someone webs him. “It’s an emergency!” His voice trails off as he’s yoinked down the hallway.
Miguel sighs, turning to Mayday who stares wide-eyed at his mouth. “I hope you’re potty-ahh!”
She’s grabbed one of his fangs.
He didn’t think they were that long. Maybe he does look ridiculous. “You’re severely underestimating how dangerous this is,” he tries to say, but the words emerge as nonsense that Mayday mistakes for babytalk.
She babbles. For a second he has — misplaced — hope that she’ll let go. Mayday settles onto his shoulder instead, and her grip tightens.
This is fine. He’ll manage. He'll outlast a child.