Peter liked being tiny. He could hide in places where no one would find him. His daddy always got worried when he couldn’t find him, but then Peter would jump out and shout “Boo!”
They would both laugh, and Daddy would pick him up and twirl him around.
But now Peter had to save his daddy. He knew that the Avengers were going someplace to look for him, and he was going to come with them! But when he tried to talk to his Auntie Nat, she told him it was too dangerous.
So did Uncle Rhodey. And Uncle Bruce. And Uncle Clint.
And Uncle Steeb. And Uncle Bucky and Uncle Sam.
Everyone said he was too little and it was too dangerous.
That was something Peter didn’t like about being little. He was a big boy!
When Auntie Nat and Uncle Rhodey shouted that they found a signal, Peter grinned. This was his chance to help!
The little toddler ran to the Quinjet, hiding behind Uncle Steeb’s parachute.
The Avengers rushed in, strapping themselves to their seats and preparing to take off.
He grinned. Nobody saw him!
He was gonna save Daddy!
~~~~~
“Poor kid,” Sam said into the silence. “He’s been pretty worried.”
Natasha nodded. “Hope we’ll find Tony.”
“It’s where the signal is most strong,” Steve replied. “We’ll have a good chance of finding him. I just hope it doesn’t lead to a fight.”
Clint spoke from the front of the jet. “We're gonna hit some rough air, everybody. “Hold on.”
The airplane jolted, and Peter let out a sharp cry as he rolled out from behind the parachute.
“Peter?” Rhodey gasped. Nat jumped to her feet and carefully scooped up the four year old.
“Peter, what are you doing here?”
He grinned sheepishly. “I came t’ find Daddy! I’m a big boy, I can do it!”
“Honey, it’s too dangerous,” she murmured, bouncing him in her arms. “You could have been hurt, Peter.”
The boy pouted. “I need t’ find Daddy!”
“Peter, we’re gonna find your dad, kiddo,” Rhodey said.
“But I wanna find him!” he insisted, his eyes wide. “He’s my daddy!”
“Peter, there might be a fight, kiddo. We can’t risk you getting hurt.” Or worse.
“A fight?” he gasped. “Is Daddy gonna be okay?”
Nat smiled sadly. “I hope so, honey.”
They realized it was too late to turn back. Tony needed their help now.
The little toddler would have to come along.
~~~~~
Bruce took Peter, bouncing him on his lap, as the rest of the Avengers armed themselves.
The boy snuffled and stuck his fingers in his mouth. “Be caweful!”
The team smiled. “We will,” said Nat, ruffling his curls.
Peter smiled and curled up, resting his head against Bruce’s chest. He waved to his family as they exited the jet. “Bye!”
And then he screamed as gunshots sounded. His uncle lunged to the floor, wrapping his arms around his nephew.
“Bruce!” Nat yelled into the comms. “Are you two okay?”
“We’re good,” he answered, holding Peter close. “What’s going on out there?”
“Ambush.”
The comms went silent. Peter started crying, burying his face in Bruce’s chest. The man rubbed his back, but he wasn’t good at comforting Peter. That was Tony’s job.
“Wan’ Daddy!” the boy wailed. “I wan’ Daddy!”
The four year old shrieked as people shouted and bodies hit the floor. “Uncle B’uce!”
He looked up with teary eyes and gasped. “Uncle B’uce, you’re gween!”
Peter trembled in the corner as his uncle thrashed and grunted, his shirt ripping in half and his skin turning green. There was a tremendous roar.
The Hulk turned to Peter, breathing heavily, growling.
“Uncle B’uce?”
The monster’s eyes softened. “Baby Avenger?”
“I’m a big boy!” he cried automatically.
Hulk shook his head. “Baby.”
Peter shrieked as Hulk lifted him up, shielding him with one hand and opening the door of the Quinjet. Hulk swung his massive fist at a man dressed in black who pointed a gun at them.
“He’s got Peter!” Nat yelled. “I repeat, the Hulk has Peter!”
“‘M okay!” the toddler cried.
He closed his eyes tight as Bruce sprinted through the underbrush, occasionally stopping to swing a punch at the people dressed in black.
“Uncle B’uce, der’s a buildin’!” Peter cried. “Look!”
Hulk spun around, then charged to the crumbling warehouse. He jumped high into the hair, then smashed his way through the wall. Peter cried out as a piece of rubble scraped his temple.
“Baby Avenger okay?” the Hulk rumbled. The boy felt his head.
“Uncle B’uce, I’m b’eeding!” he cried, tears running down his cheeks.
The green monster looked horrified. “Baby Avenger! Baby Avenger needs help!”
“Peter?!”
“Daddy!” he shrieked, squirming in Hulk’s arms. “Daddy!”
“Peter!” Tony sprinted forward, his face bloodied and bruised and terrified.
“Daddy,” he sobbed as Tony scooped him up, cradling him against his chest. “Daddy!”
“Oh baby. Oh my god, your head, what happened to your head?! Oh munchkin.”
“‘M okay, Daddy,” Peter whispered as his father frantically felt for bumps on his head, wiping away his tears with a gentle thumb, obviously stricken with terror that his baby was bleeding.
“Petey, sweetheart, what are you doing here?!” Tony whispered. “Baby, it’s too dangerous, something could have happened!” He pushed away the possibilities flooding his head.
His kid’s big brown eyes looked up at him. “I wanted t’ help you, Daddy! I’s sorry!”
Tony shook his head, kissing his fragile curls. “No, honey, it’s okay, it’s okay, I know. You scared me, baby, you scared me so much.” He pressed kiss after kiss to Peter’s forehead.
“Daddy, you’re crying!”
Tony smiled (a pained smile). “I know, baby. I know, I’m okay.”
The Baby Avenger sniffed. “I’s sorry, Daddy, I just wanted t’ hewp!”
“No, no little one, it’s not your fault, shh, don’t cry, sweetheart,” Tony cooed.
“Tony!’” someone shouted. “Tony, are you alright? Do you have Peter?”
“Nat,” he sighed, cradling Peter’s head against his chest. “Nat, are we safe? Is it safe out there-”
The boy whimpered as an explosion rocked the building. Tony covered his child’s head and ducked. The Hulk, who had been surprisingly silent up until then, roared and lumbered through the gaping hole in the wall.
“We’ve gotta get Peter out of here!” the inventor shouted.
Natasha nodded. “Tony, the Quinjet’s in the woods to the south. Take this.” She handed him a pistol. He nodded.
Tony raced to the back door, making sure the coast was clear. “Petey,” he whispered, looking in his toddler’s eyes. “I need for you to be really quiet, okay, baby? Pretend you’re hiding from me, sweetheart. Just like hide and seek.”
Peter nodded seriously.
Just like hide and seek.
Peter stayed silent as people shouted and footsteps followed them.
Just like hide and seek.
He stayed quiet when branches grabbed at his face.
Just like hide and seek.
He didn’t make a sound even when his daddy ducked and rolled, Tony trying desperately to protect his baby.
Peter gasped as a door slammed shut behind them, and then they were in the dark Quinjet.
The genius immediately, frantically inspected his kid. “Oh my god, Petey, are you hurt?! Oh, your face, you're bleeding! Oh Petey.” To his horror, Peter began crying. “Oh- oh no, baby, what’s wrong?! Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart, please.”
“Daddy- Daddy, that was scawy!” he sobbed.
“Oh Petey, I know, I know.” Tony cuddled him close. “I know, but it’s okay now, we’re okay.”
He pushed away the thoughts of how much worse this could have been.
Peter was here in his arms, a little scraped, scared, but breathing, heart beating.
His precious baby boy.
He kissed Peter’s curls firmly, rocking them both back and forth, murmuring words of comfort and love. “Shh, mimmo, it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay, shh, shh.”
There was sudden shouting at the door. Tony ducked and shielded Peter, but it was unnecessary.
“Tony! You made it! Is Peter with you?” Steve gasped, panting.
He nodded, cradling his crying kid. “I got him. Where are the others?”
As if on cue, the Falcon swooped in, Nat and Clint following him. Thor limped in, supporting a pale Bruce (who had found some pants, luckily)
Natasha rushed over. “Peter? Peter, are you okay?”
Tony hadn’t taken his eyes off his kid. “He’s okay.”
Peter was curled in his lap, holding one of his dad’s arms like a big teddy bear. Tony combed his fingers through the boy’s delicate curls, humming quietly. The toddler looked tired. The excitement and the stress had clearly worn him out.
The kid snuffled quietly and shut his eyes. His father bent to kiss his tiny forehead, smiling softly. “Aww, bambino, il mio piccolo bambino.”
The team grinned as the jet took off. “Sweet dreams, Pete,” Nat whispered.
“Baby’s first battle,” said Clint, wiping away a tear.