Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a normal patrol. Just Peter swinging through Queens, helping old ladies with directions, stopping a mugging or two — the usual. But because Peter Parker’s life could never, ever just stay normal… that’s not how tonight went.
One second he was checking his web cartridges. The next, there was a bright flash, a weird tingle across his skin — and then everything went dark.
When Karen’s systems rebooted, she immediately knew something was wrong.
“Peter?” she called softly. No response. Her sensors flickered over the area — no adult male vitals, no suit diagnostics matching the expected body proportions — only a tiny, squirming human child tangled in way too much nanotech.
“…Oh. Oh no.”
Within three seconds, Karen had patched through to FRIDAY.
KAREN: “FRIDAY, we have a situation.”
FRIDAY: “Define situation, sweetheart.”
KAREN: “Peter Parker has been… compromised.”
FRIDAY: “Compromised how?”
KAREN: “…He’s a baby.”
There was a pause on the line that could only be described as electronic disbelief.
FRIDAY: “You mean metaphorically, or—?”
KAREN: “No. Physically. Infant. Approximately one year old. Possibly younger. I need backup.”
FRIDAY didn’t even argue. Within seconds, Stark’s emergency alert pinged to life, and Tony was pulling on his glasses in the dark.
“FRIDAY, it’s two in the morning. This better not be—”
FRIDAY: “Mr. Stark, it’s Peter.”
Tony froze. “What about Peter?”
FRIDAY: “You should come see for yourself.”
Fifteen minutes later, Tony’s suit thrusters hissed quietly as he landed in a half-lit alleyway in Queens. He scanned the area, heart in his throat. Karen’s beacon had led him here, and he was half expecting blood, or maybe broken bones — because of course Peter was out patrolling at 2:36 a.m.
“Seriously, Parker,” Tony muttered under his breath, stepping over a discarded pizza box. “What is it this time—broken ribs? Stab wound? Dislocated shoulder—”
And then he saw it.
Right there, sitting on the concrete, was a tiny baby wrapped in an oversized Spider-Man suit like a blanket. The mask hung loose around his shoulders, and the nanotech had retracted halfway, trying to adjust to a form it wasn’t designed for.
Tony blinked.
“...You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
At first, the kid was crying — soft, hiccupy sobs that made Tony’s chest ache — but as soon as he stepped closer, the baby stopped. Big brown eyes blinked up at him curiously. Then—
The baby started clapping.
Tony just stared. “You’re clapping at me? At two-thirty in the morning? Parker, what the hell—” He cut himself off, realizing the absurdity of scolding a literal infant.
“Okay,” he sighed, kneeling down carefully. “So either I’m hallucinating, or you’ve been hit with some kind of de-aging ray. Again. Because of course that’s a thing now.”
The baby gurgled happily in response.
When Tony gently lifted him, Peter immediately reached for the glowing arc reactor in his chest, tiny fingers fascinated by the soft blue light.
“Hey—hey, no—careful, kiddo, that’s not a toy.”
But Peter only laughed — a pure, delighted giggle that cracked Tony’s heart open in the weirdest, warmest way. The little guy patted the reactor again and babbled nonsense, eyes shining in the reflected glow.
Tony sighed, tucking the oversized suit around him like a blanket. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Mini-Parker.”
He glanced at the sky, then down at the tiny, happy baby snuggled against his shoulder.
“Well,” he muttered. “Guess it’s bedtime, kid. Let’s go figure out how the hell to reverse this before anyone sees me carrying Spider-Baby around like a Build-a-Bear.”
The baby yawned.
Tony looked down and smiled softly despite himself. “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, kid. I’ll fix it.”
He tapped his comms.
Tony: “FRIDAY, tell Karen I’ve got our problem. And run a full-spectrum analysis on anything weird in Queens tonight. I need answers.”
FRIDAY: “Understood, boss.”
As the suit’s thrusters lifted them gently into the night sky, Peter cooed sleepily and clutched at Tony’s shirt — still trying to grab the arc reactor, his tiny fingers glowing blue from the reflected light.
Tony just shook his head, smiling down at him.
“Unbelievable,” he murmured. “You can’t even go one night without giving me a heart attack, can you, kid?”
Peter’s only reply was a soft giggle before he drifted off against Tony’s chest, still bathed in that steady, gentle glow.