Chapter Text
"I'm sorry Peter, but you can't exist here." Doctor Strange said with pity. Peter couldn't believe he could cause that much of problems all by himself. All he wanted to do was protecting his friends and family but he ended up killing them. His aunt was dead now. His girlfriend and bestfriend were about to die along with the entire universr because of Peter.
"What should I do Mr. Dr. Strange sir?" he asked nervously. Would Dr. Strange kill him? What could Peter do anyway? He would just let Dr. Strange kill him if it means saving the world.
"I will find a new universe that you don't exist, so you can live there." Dr. Strange started the spell and Peter panicked even more.
"Can't I at least say goodbye to my friends?" he asked nervously.
"Fine, I will delay the spell a little but we don't have much time." Dr. Strange said and rearranged the spell.
"You said I don't exist there, then how will I have paper and identity? Should I get a fake one? Can you make me one? Oh, can you make me old enough to be legally adult because orphanages are not kind of my thing." Peter kept going nervously. Dr. Stramge nodded and rearranged the spell again.
"Can I get some cash? Or maybe clothes? Just can't you delay it for an hour so I can prepare?" Peter kept going, he was so nervous that he was basically vibrating on his place.
"Have you learned nothing from the last time?!" Dr. Strange scolded him as the spell completed wrongly. That was the last thing Peter heard and saw before falling into a wormhole.
He fell on the ground hard. "Ouch! Ouch, ouch, big ouch! " he whined and squirmed on his places, tried to calm down. He was blinded by pain and his ears were ringing. He came back to his senses and huffed out after a while, tried to push himself up to sitting position. His height was the first thing he noticed. 'Why am I so close to the ground?'
Then he noticed tiny hands, tiny hands that belonged to him. He examined his hands and fingers, no calluses from fights. Are those baby fats? 'How old am I?'
He noticed he is wearing childlike colorful clothes and sneakers with rainbow lights. He hated them. He hit his heel hard on the ground and watched as the lights spark. He loved it- no, he hated it, he had to hate it. He wasn't a kid, why was he so small and why was he wearing kid clothes? He hated it. He hated being a kid.
He walked and walked until he found a store's windows, he checkes his reflection. He was actually a little kid, probably around five or six years old. He looked pathetically cute with his freckles, curly and fluffy brown hairs and chocolate brown wide eyes. He hated to be cute. He was Spider-Man, not Spider-Boy. He had to fix it. But how? He had to find another sorcerer, but he had to survive to do thay so.
He started walkig around the streets, doesn't know where he is or where is he going, trying to find anything familiar. He was pretty sure he wasn't at New York, New York wasn't that dark and brooding. New Yorkers were also not that brooding and annoyed as well. 'This city could use some fun..' he thought to himself. He hated this city and he hated the citizens even more.