Chapter 2
Peter was slowly coming to terms with this new life. There wasn’t much else he could do as a newborn but to think. He’d been born into some rich family- which Parker Luck was being weirdly nice about. Two parents and two brothers. And a butler. A british butler.
He hasn’t met the oldest brother yet, his new dad had promised he’ll meet him soon. Peter wasn’t too sure but it wasn’t like he could say anything about it even if he wanted to.
The spell had somehow let him keep his first name, Peter. Somewhere down the line of the spell, it changed him. It took him away from Queens and away from Spider-man. He wasn’t sure if he still had his spider abilities but since no one had made a scene about his DNA he assumed that had also been stripped from him.
Peter resented that change. Would he have asthma again? Will he have to wear glasses again? How can he protect this new family without Spider-man? Maybe he could find Oscorp again, break in there and- No, that wouldn’t work.
For one, he was born in Gotham. Peter’s never heard of Gotham but apparently that’s the city he’s from now.
Secondly, Peter’s dad is a vigilante called Batman. Adults talk a lot around babies and he’s heard both sickening love confessions between his newfound parents and their conversations about their respective nightlife.
So his dad is a vigilante. That already increases the chances of Parker Luck striking tenfold. His mom is a thief, which… Considering that short time with Black Cat, Peter could understand. Except he never went that far with her. He could already compare himself to his new dad, though. Both having some sort of a relationship with a cat themed thief. The irony there did not escape him.
His mom and his dad weren’t married. Selina, his new mom's name, stayed in the Manor to be close to him. Though Peter was suspicious that she often left too. Time felt strange with how often he kept taking naps. Peter wasn’t sure if this was normal, he met Morgan when she was 5 and she only took one nap throughout a single day.
“Master Jason, dinner is ready.” Alfred cuts through Jason’s reading after politely knocking on the library’s doorframe.
Jason had been reading Pride and Prejudice to Peter while his parents were out working. He wasn’t opposed to it but… Peter sort of wished he could at least read something with more science. He could only lay there, occasionally swatting at the little birds rotating above him. Movement was difficult and he found that most of his movement wasn’t even what he was aiming for.
Being a baby sucked.
“Cool, come on Pete.” Jason got up, carefully pulling Peter from beneath the circling birds. Peter could only wave his arms and gurgle but his older brother seemed to understand. “Do ya think Peter can drink chocolate milk? Since it’s milk, sorta.”
“I don’t believe chocolate milk is considered healthy for a newborn, Master Jason. Perhaps in a year or two.” Alfred, the patient man that he is, denied Peter’s sole hope. He couldn’t wait till he could eat burgers again.
Peter stared past Jason’s shoulders as he was carried to the dining room. He’s grown accustomed to being a baby, even if it was downright embarrassing at times. His mind was still at 18 but he couldn’t not act like a newborn without any control. Sometimes he found himself falling into the simple mindset of a few weeks old baby.
It scared him.
Would he forget everyone? Will he be able to visit Dr. Strange some day? Maybe ask him if he knew this would happen? Will he forget about his original parents? His Aunt May and Uncle Ben? MJ? Ned? Mr. Stark?
Will he still be the same Peter Parker or will he become someone else?
Maybe there's a chance to still be Spider-man, since his own dad is a vigilante now. But will he have to artificially create gloves and boots to act in place of his general stickiness? Shuri had made boots once to walk on walls, before she found out he didn't use tech. If she managed it, even though she had the advantages of Wakandan technology, could he replicate something similar here?
Peter was transferred to Alfred’s arms as Jason took a seat at the table. Alfred sat across from him, a bottle waiting for Peter. He took it, somewhat holding the bottle as Peter eyed the formula. When do babies eat solid food? Jason’s food looked way better than his.
Peter’s days consisted of laying around, napping, and drinking bottles. At night, he was left to his own devices with late visits from his dad and occasionally Jason. Peter never had siblings before but spending time with Jason was nice. Even if the boy would read classics Peter only ever read for school.
He’s seen other siblings interact. Their inside jokes and their fights. Peter had wished once, to have a sibling. Aunt May and Uncle Ben never really wanted kids but they still took in Peter. This left Peter alone for most of his life, other than his aunt and uncle. He had friends but siblings always had something different. A relationship Peter could only dream of. Ned had always been the closest thing to a brother but he still only came into Peter’s life later on.
Maybe the short time with Peter 2 and 3 was closer to that? But did that really count? They read each other as if they knew their next move, but that was more because they were each other. Did siblings learn to read each other as well as that?
So far, Jason seemed to just read to him. Occasionally prodding Peter till he tried to yell at him. Peter couldn’t make any sounds intentionally. So his yelling usually came out in gurgles and drool. Jason only laughed at him before apologizing. Is that what siblings do? Peter couldn’t wait till he could cause Jason some problems. If only to get back at him for the poking.
“Hey Alfred.” A new voice greeted, entering the room and drawing Peter from his thoughts. “Jason.”
“Ya missed your chance, Dickie. Pete’s gonna go down for his nap soon.” Jason hummed, talking around the mashed potatoes he was chewing. Peter eyed the food jealously. He really couldn’t wait.
“Master Dick, welcome home.” Alfred stood, gently prying the bottle from Peter. He’d finished it but that’s still rude. Peter tried to reach for it again, hoping to practice holding things with it. It disappeared from sight, Peter’s baby mind screaming that it’s lost forever. He had to rationalize with himself, reminding himself of object-permanence. Unfortunately babies don’t understand it just yet.
He wanted to work on his motor skills, though. Being a newborn left him with absolutely nothing to do and Peter could not stay trapped in his mind. It was terrifying, being stripped from the movements he was used to doing, even something as basic as walking- to being unable to do anything. He could only breathe on command and even then, if he drank too fast he’d choke.
“Thanks, Alfred.” Dick, apparently, beamed. “And sorry, little wing, I was busy. I’m here now, though! Let me take the baby to bed!”
Peter was quickly reminded of how energetic he was, back when he was 14. Fresh on the scene and excitable, Peter had boundless energy and was full of quips. Did he sound like that? Before Peter could think anymore on it, he felt himself being transferred as a new face appeared over him.
New faces appearing out of nowhere won’t stop startling him. Another curse of being a baby again. God their faces are huge.
“Hello, Peter. I’m Dick.” His oldest brother smiled down at him, bright blue eyes studying his face.
Hello. Peter patted Dick’s cheek, the only movement he could confidently do. It was usually hit or miss if he even got their cheek or eye, but so far he’s successfully reached the cheek 80% of the time. Dick beamed, his smile spreading into a grin before bringing him closer. The three verbal members in the dining room talked before Peter was burped and finally allowed to sleep.
He’s accepted the humiliating experiences as something that has to happen. Peter could only hope he’ll at least forget being a baby after he grows up.
Jason followed along, updating Dick on Peter and their dad. Jason and Dick called him Bruce or B, not dad. Should he be calling him that? They looked like their dad, maybe different moms?
“Ya gotta support his neck when ya put him down.” Jason informed, standing on his toes to peer over the crib.
Peter could only watch as his view of the room shifted as he was moved away from Dick. Deciding he could start messing with them now, Peter wailed before Dick could place him in the crib. Tears welled up already as he cried. Mentally, Peter cackled at Dick’s face.
His brother pulled him back immediately, patting his back anxiously. “Hey, hey what’s that for? What’d I do?”
“He doesn’t like naps sometimes.” Jason laughed, hopping away from the crib. “Read or sing to him. Ya know B tried singing to him once?”
“No way, you got proof?”
“Duh.” Jason puffed his chest, grinning from beside them. Peter wailed again since they were distracted. They were supposed to be panicking.
“No, Peter. Naps are great, I promise. You’re gonna miss them someday.” Dick tried again, rubbing his back now. Peter screeched in response, causing the older boy to scramble for something to do. “You record me you’re dead, little wing.”
“Culca-te, puiut micut,
Culca-te si te abua
Pâna mâine-n dalba ziua.
Si te culca si adormi
Pâna mâine-n dalbe zori.”
Peter found himself falling asleep as the song swept over him. The gentle hand on his back rubbed soothing circles as his apparent brother sang softly. The words were foreign and different, but he could feel the promise in it. His attempt at stressing his oldest brother failed as Peter’s head rested on his shoulder. It didn’t work but… he liked this turnout better.
Tony sang to him once, in italian. Peter had been sick and still came for lab time. Mr. Stark had freaked out when Peter sneezed and was promptly thrown into his designated bedroom. He sang then, playing with Peter’s curls.
It felt like that, the protection hovering over him. The promise of love and affection. Peter cried a little as he slowly sunk deeper into sleep. How undeserving was he? Why does he have to remember all that and still prepare for Parker Luck to strike? Why couldn’t he forget, too?
–
Dick stared at his baby brother, the youngest of them. He’d settled after Dick started singing and was asleep now, in his arms. He was aware, faintly, that Jason had his phone out but he couldn't find it in himself to care too much.
Peter was so small. The tiny son of Batman/Bruce Wayne and Catwoman/Selina Kyle. Dick had always imagined that Bruce’s son would just come fully grown. The serious and pessimistic man just never seemed like he could be an actual dad.
He tried with Dick, sure. And he tries with Jason. He just… Dick never imagined him with a newborn though.
Peter was dead to the world now, so Dick carefully placed him in the crib. Jason finally helped out by moving the baby monitor near one end of the mattress. Far enough so Peter couldn’t kick it but close enough to pick up on his cries.
“Good job.” Jason huffed, shuffling in place. Dick chuckled, pulling him in.
“Don’t get insecure, little wing.” Dick hugged his other brother, softly reminding him that he was still his favorite. Peter’s screaming had knocked him down a few pegs but Dick was confident he’ll at least be the kid’s favorite when he’s older. “Besides, I’ll be Pete’s favorite soon enough. Catch up, chump.”
“Fuck off.” Jason laughed, pulling Dick from Bruce’s room.