-~ prologue ~-
Hobie Brown is known for being... well, Hobie Brown. Nothing could bring him down, like, literally nothing. He could fight villains with his guitar, he never conformed to society, never fell for the government's schemes... nothing could affect him! Despite all this, he's still a good guy. Looking after Miles, Gwen and Pavitr like his own little siblings and trying to keep everyone safe, he took that role seriously.
...but how would he look after himself?
With Hobie's dad leaving, and his mother succumbing to alcohol, he had to take care of everything.
Everything.
Nobody to comfort him, nobody to hold him, tell him everything would be okay, wipe his tears away, hug him warmly. Nobody. But he got used to it anyway? So did it matter much anyway? The answer was yes.
And that's how he found age regression.
-~ Start ~-
Peter was dressing Hobie in his pyjamas. Miguel, Peter and Hobie were all chilling in Miguel's penthouse in the year 2099, when Miguel first recruited Hobie and found out about his situation, he offered to let him come over to his penthouse from time to time when things got tough. Now Hobie would casually stroll into the place like he owned it, like a stray cat. As Peter tried changing Hobie, the little one kept fussing about his bedtime, not wanting to sleep just yet. "Bedtime is for losers!" He retorted sassily, sticking his tongue at Peter. Peter chuckled and stroked Hobie's forehead a bit. "I know you can be a little rule breaker, but little boys need their sleep, okay?" The older man tried reasoning. "Big boy!" Hobie replied, huffing and pouting, crossing his arms and looking away.
Peter chuckled at this action, finding it very cute. He knew Hobie could be a little shit at times, but it was still fun to watch, even when he was little he was still a rule breaker. Peter then proceeded to go through his mental checklist, Hobie had eaten something, was changed into his pyjamas, and had his bonnet nearby... "Did you brush your teeth?" Peter asked Hobie, who nodded a bit shyly. Just then, Miguel came out of the bathroom, with Hobie's dry toothbrush. "I beg to differ" The strong man grunted in amusement, watching as Hobie's expression fell, realising he was caught in the act. He grumbled, snatching the toothbrush and going to brush his teeth. "Two minutes, mister!" Peter called out at him, making Hobie whine in annoyance. He sighed heartily and went next to Miguel, who looked at him with wonder.
"Wow, estas mas organizado. You're much more organised Peter."
"Yeah.. I guess that's what having a baby daughter at home does to ya, eh?" Peter chuckled, before noticing the frown on Miguel's face. "Ah... sorry."
"...eh." Miguel shrugged, his broad shoulders heaving up a bit before relaxing back into their position. After a couple of minutes, Hobie came back out, his bonnet was already on and he ran onto the bed, giggling and messing up the pillows. This action lifted the heavy atmosphere, with Miguel reaching out and picking Hobie up, who squealed and lightly punched at Miguel's chest. "Ay, little one! ¡Eres demasiado tonto!" he laughed, making Peter light up and giggle, taking Hobie back and beginning to tuck him in. Miguel left to retrieve something, leaving Peter and Hobie alone. The little glanced at Peter as he tucked him in, tilting his head curiously. Peter looked at Hobie before chuckling.
"Put your bonnet on yourself eh? Big boy." He laughed softly, making Hobie smile softly. Miguel came back, with a hedgehog plush for Hobie. It was Hobie's favourite thing in little space, 'it spiky! Like me!' he once said. Hobie giggled and took the plush, hugging it and letting Peter tuck him in. Once he was comfortable in bed, Peter gave him a little kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight little rockstar." He said softly, getting up with Miguel and turning off the light. Both older men closed the door, leaving Hobie to fall asleep comfortably. Hobie glanced up at the ceiling, little glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across it glimmering softly in the dark. He hugged his plush, finding the colours fascinating, normally in his big headspace he'd be bored of them rather quickly, but it seemed when he was little even the smallest thing could keep him entertained. Hobie gently began humming to himself, a simple melody from one of his favourite cartoons, which lulled him to sleep entirely, his eyes drooping and falling shut as he fell asleep. It seemed that nothing could hurt him now... right?
-~~-
It's dark.
Hobie can't see shit, the darkness seemed to engulf the room, making him feel like he was lost in a void. His mind spun like a hamster on a wheel, the dizzying feeling making him stumble towards the light switch, slamming it on. As light appeared, Hobie's eyes widened. This was his childhood room, he stood up, looking towards the dinky little bed, the sight making him want to cry right then and there.
It was him, at 12 years old holding one of his younger siblings who was only nine. His baby sister. He had her in his lap, gently shushing her as she cried her heart out after having to deal with their mother, who was probably passed out on the couch. Hobie shakily walked towards the bed, crouching down next to the two children as he stared at them. With tired, teary eyes, he reached out for his younger self, only for his hand to go right through him. Ah, he must be invisible, that makes sense. Just then, the door slammed open, making both kids jump. Younger Hobie stood up, hiding his baby sister under the blankets before standing up shakily. There was yelling, so much yelling Hobie had to cover his ears. Never again, he never wanted to hear that noise ever again. The aggravating noise of his mother yelling, and the high-pitched yelling from 12-year-old Hobie, who was desperately trying to fight off his mother. The one who was supposed to hold him, comfort him, be... I don't know, a mother?
That's when it happened.
She raised her alcohol bottle, high in the air, ready to smash it over Hobie's head. Just as she did so, Hobie's sister jumped out, rushing in front of him just in time to be hit over the head. Glass shattered everywhere and a pained squeak from his sister. His baby sister. Such a small noise caused so much agony. As she fell to the floor, younger Hobie screamed.
So did older Hobie, who reached out his hand as if it would stop his poor baby from being hurt.
Then he woke up.
-~~-
Miguel and Peter were in the next room. Peter was trying to shave, but unfortunately for the man, Miguel was having some late-night thoughts.
"Peter... fingers are weeeiiirrrdd. Like, they're like our arms but split into smaller versions."
"...What did you eat?" Peter asked with a soft chuckle as he finished shaving off his stubble and washing his face with warm water. Miguel was about to answer when they heard something. Both men paused, perking their ears, with Miguel's ears being more in tune. There was shuffling, and whimpering coming from Hobie, then suddenly a loud shriek. This made Miguel flinch violently, covering his ears, and Peter rushed out of the room, Miguel following behind. They both went into Hobie's room (Or rather the room Hobie was sleeping in) and sighed at the sight. Hobie was shaking, sitting up on the bed and hugging his plush tightly, rocking himself front and back. His face was covered with tears and sweat, the poor boy hiccuping and softly wailing. Peter cooed softly, rushing over to Hobie and sitting next to him, his dad senses going haywire. "Hey, shh, it's okay, it's okay! What happened?" He asked, looking down at Hobie. Miguel turned on the lamp, sitting opposite of the two on the edge of the bed. Hobie tried explaining, but only little babbles and whines came out. It didn't matter anyway, they both knew damn well what caused Hobie to wake up in such a frenzy. Peter sighed, hugging Hobie and rubbing his back, gently rocking him and humming a soft lullaby. Miguel noticed something.
He squinted his eyes a bit, before cursing in Spanish softly and turning on the main light, he then came back to the bed. The seat of Hobie's pyjama pants was soaked, and the sheets were dampened as well, a wet spot being apparent. Peter noticed this, looking a bit confused as Miguel took Hobie from Peter.
"...Hobie wet the bed. Must've been a terrifying nightmare." Miguel said to Peter, who nodded in understanding. Miguel stood up, holding Hobie who was resting his head on his shoulder. Miguel sighed, why did so many littles like resting their heads on his shoulder?
Hobie was sniffling and hiccuping lightly, the sticky and cold feeling on his lower half making him feel uncomfortable. "I'll change the sheets, you can help clean Hobie up," Peter suggested, also standing up and stretching his back with a groan. Miguel nodded in agreement, before taking Hobie to the bathroom. He sat the little one on the counter, and as soon as he did so, Hobie started crying again. "I sorry!" He wailed, reaching out for Miguel, who hugged him and gently rubbed his back. "What for cariño?"
"I wet bed, I bad" He sniffled, aggressively wiping his tears with his sleeve. Hobie was shaking all over. Poor baby.
"No, listen- that was a natural response. It happens Hobie, no need to be ashamed, want a bubble bath?" Miguel said a bit frantically, Hobie looked up and nodded, whining softly. Miguel smiled softly and used his thumbs to wipe Hobie's tears off his face before running the warm water. He poured the bubble bath solution, swishing it around and watching as soft, fluffy bubbles began appearing. Once he was certain the bath was done, Miguel got Hobie, who seemed a bit more relaxed. He carefully took off his bonnet and pyjama shirt and peeled off the sticky lower clothes before placing Hobie in the bathtub. The little one played with the bubbles, splashing a bit, and making Miguel chuckle. Miguel washed off Hobie, getting rid of the sticky feeling for him. Once he was done washing Hobie, he noticed the little Hobie squish his cheek against the ledge of the tub, making Miguel tilt his head. He never really did that unless...
"Oh my, do we have a baby Hobie?" Miguel cooed softly, making Hobie babble in response. Miguel drained the bathtub, getting Hobie out and drying him off. He then got the body lotion, massaging it into Hobie's sensitive skin. Hobie made a small noise and tilted his head, looking at Miguel in curiosity. Miguel got a sweatshirt and shorts for Hobie, he also decided to get a pull-up, just in case Hobie would struggle to stay dry throughout the night, now that he had regressed so young. He changed Hobie, feeling grateful when the little one acted so oblivious against the pull-up and eventually carried him into the room.
By this point, Peter was done with changing the sheets. Miguel came out with a baby Hobie, who was chewing on Miguel's shirt, Peter noticed this and gushed over him. "Aww, do we have a baby here?" He cooed, making Hobie whine and grumble, chewing on Miguel's shirt even harder. Peter got up and went to Hobie's backpack (which had seen better days). He looked through it before eventually finding his custom pacifier. He went over to Hobie and slipped it into his mouth, sighing in contentment when Hobie sucked on it instead. Miguel placed Hobie on the bed, before grabbing the bonnet and placing it back on his head.
"He's in pull-ups, he went baby mode," Miguel told Peter, who nodded. Both men sat near Hobie, who crawled into Peter's lap and cuddled into him. Peter chuckled and hugged Hobie back, making the little wriggle a bit. Peter pat Hobie's back, knowing it usually comforted him in this state.
Hobie sat in Peter's lap, looking at Miguel. Miguel noticed this and glanced back down at Hobie. "pequeño bribon. You want something?" He asked, only met with Hobie's gaze, his pacifier bobbing in his mouth. Peter laughed and stroked Hobie's head with his thumb, making the baby squint a bit. "Someone's got a smooth brain." He said, before sniffing Hobie.
"...why does he smell like a hospital?"
"It's Japanese cherry blossom!" Miguel retorted back, the interaction making Hobie giggle. After a few minutes of cuddling, playing and joking around, Hobie felt sleepy. The pacifier bobbed slower as his eyes began drooping. Miguel noticed this, picked him up and got off the bed with Peter. He then tucked Hobie back in, gently pushing the plush back into his arms as Hobie, nuzzled softly. He immediately fell back asleep, curling up into a fetal position with his plush.
Both men walked towards the door and turned off the light, keeping the lamp on as a night light. Peter smiled softly and Miguel grinned.
"Goodnight little rockstar," Peter said softly, before they both exited the room, closing the door behind them.
This time, Hobie had sweet dreams.