Chapter 18

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Tony POV

When Karen called me, I was mad.
No scratch that, I was pissed.

Some dickwad jumped my boy. Most likely that boy named...Ash? Pokemon--that dick! I scooped up Peter's injured form and carried him back to Bruce. Bruce looked over the bleeding boy. "What's wrong?!" I said with worry, studying his sad look. "I can't fix these wounds. There are too deep," Bruce sighed softly. My heart stopped for a moment. "But..."

"Do whatever you can, Bruce. I don't care," I hissed. Bruce opened his mouth to say something before closing his mouth with another sigh. "Just so you know," Bruce added quietly, pulling out a clear syringe and squirting it a bit, "I won't be your scapegoat." Bruce finally injected the boy in his arm.

Peter whimpered when it entered his arm, but a small smile appeared on his face when Bruce finally injected him. "Get, Peter will be alright in like forty-five minutes or so," Bruce instructed. "Thank you, Bruce," I sighed in relief, stepping into the doorway.

"Don't thank me yet," Bruce suggested as I closed the door. I went straight to the kitchen and reached into the secret compartment of the cabinet and pulled out my secret stash of whiskey. Pepper peered in and saw me pouring a shot.

"Who died?" Pepper asked as I poured it down my throat. "Peter got jumped by that kid," I spat. "Haha," a familiar laugh filled the room, "you've got to be shitting me."

I turned to face Wanda, who was staring back at me with red eyes. "After all the shit we did, that kid still had the nerves to touch our kid?!"

Scott, who was currently here, walked in at that very moment. "What the fuck is going on?" Scott asked. "A long story," Pepper replied simply. "Bruce is taking care of him right now," I finally answered for all of them. Steve walked in, a frown on his face. "He's the Spiderkid, guys. He'll heal."

Scott left after that, not wanting to hear the stories. We all decided to sit in the living room watching a game show while patiently waiting for the kid to come out, in the best condition he could be in. But when Bruce did walk in holding a baby, everyone lost their shit.

"What the fuck, Richard?!" I cursed loudly.

Wait, what? That kid is rubbing off on me.
The baby was obviously two-years-old, sitting on Bruce's hip, looking around tiredly with a confused baby expression. "You never let me explain, Tony. I couldn't work on him without it being lethal. Turning him younger would increase his healing stamina and make him easier to work on," Bruce explained with a scowl.

We all let the words sink in, studying the boy closely. "It'll only last two days, the whole baby and healing thing. You might want to call his aunt and explain the situation to her," Bruce suggested once he handed the baby to me. He quickly left before I could kick his ass.

"He's so cute," Pepper cooed.
Peter finally looked like he was fully awake, he looks up at me with squinted eyes. " 'Onny? 'Onny?" Peter whimpered in confusion. "Don't worry kid, I'm just as confused as you are," I grumbled. Pepper pinched his cheek and Peter pulled away.

NPOV

Clint chooses this moment to walk in and he automatically studied the situation. "Oh this is too good," Clint chuckled. Tony rolled his eyes, sitting the baby on the floor. "Give it a rest, Clint," Tony groaned, feeling a headache coming on.

"Ni! O'nny!" Peter cried out in confusion, tears brimming his eyelids. "Aw, are you trying to say Tony," Clint teased, expressing the fact he couldn't say, T.

Peter glared and looked down at his chubby baby feet. "Pft! Pft! Ppppffft!" Peter cried in frustration, spitting everywhere. Pepper chuckled softly, picking the poor baby up. Peter huffed, crossing his hands over his chest and staring at Tony in pure anger.

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