The Little Match Spider

First Night

"I'm not in New York am I?"

Peter was sat on T'Challa's bed as he was handed a hot bowl of white soup with pieces of vegetables and cheese floating in it and a sandwich.

He had been taken back to T'Challa's room where to his surprise, was a white foldout crib near the canopy bed. When hearing the word "bed" he had just assumed T'Challa had meant sleeping on the couch in his room, he didn't think he'd actually have a bed to sleep in.

Especially not a baby crib, that looked a bit larger than a regular one. But he didn't complain it was still a bed to sleep in.

He ate his soup slowly with his hand twitching as he held the spoon in his hand. The soup tasted good, really good in fact but, it had truly been too long since he had had an actual dinner that had tasted good (his aunt had even given his a moldy piece of bread once, which he hadn't touched being too disgusted by it). Though despite T'Challa giving this to him willingly he didn't feel right eating his food.

"Well...no Peter, no are not. You are in 'Wakanda' a different country, you are currently in the royal palace".

That made a lot of sense. No home back in Queens were like here and he had never seen a person like T'Challa there before.

"But, I don't understand why you brought me here?"

"I couldn't let you freeze out there to death it wouldn't have been right".

Peter suddenly felt more uncomfortable as he realized he was eating personal-chef-cooked food, he tried to hand the half eaten bowl of soup back to T'Challa who pushed it back to him.

"You are are going to eat all of your food Peter" T'Challa gave him a serious look "your too thin and skinny for your age." Somehow, he kept eating the soup scooping up spoonfuls of it and feeling the liquid going down his throat. He wanted to stop, but he was so hungry that he manged to eat the bowlful.

"When was the last time you have eaten Peter?" T'Challa looked very worried. He truly was starting to wonder what this boy had gone through and what his living arrangements were like. He didn't have a child but he knew all of this wasn't normal behavior for a teenager.

Peter nibbled on his sandwich savoring each little bite he took from the bread, meat, and vegetables. Like said earlier, he couldn't remember his last dinner that Aunt May had cooked (the real loving, sweet, Aunt he recognized) for the two of them. After Ben had died May seemed to deal with the depression by locking herself in her room not coming out for anything, it had left Peter eating anything in the fridge or cabinet to not go hungry when it had gotten through to him his Aunt wouldn't be making him breakfast or dinner.

"Um...I'm not sure" Peter looked like he was thinking hard "maybe...sometime last week". He hardly ever got an actual meal to eat. Last week, he had managed to get an apple that one special day, it wasn't much but it was food. May often spent her money on alcohol whenever she got the smallest amount of it but it never went to food.  

"That's it," T'Challa thought in his mind "I'm calling the Police and Child Services tomorrow".

"My Aunt doesn't really leave food for me to eat".

Well, Peter had a guardian...

But certainly not a nice one.

"K...Kwame said if I told him about her I wouldn't have to go b...back" Peter's voice returned to it's stutter.

"You won't ever have to return to that women ever again Peter" T'Challa reassured rubbing Peter free hand with his own. He certainly would be talking to Kwame after this, Peter had most likely  "she won't be able to find you here or get past the barrier to get in."

Peter relaxed again as he finished the last bit of his sandwich. His stomach was now completely full, which was a very rare thing in the life he lived with almost no food or water.

"Would you like a bottle Peter?"

Peter then noticed the baby bottle T'Challa had tucked against his side in his chair. From Peter saw about it, it was filled up with warm milk and filled to the top. A drink sounded nice honestly, but it left Peter confused on that it was a baby bottle.

"Um...sure but why's it a baby bottle?" Peter asked confused.

"Oh, are you not a little?".

 Well, it made sense now. Peter never had never admitted to anyone, but he was a little who regressed. He never had been able to though, with his mind trying to keep him going and staying strong while May wasn't doing anything to help him. He never once had gotten the opportunity to regress, to be happy, and to act like a child.

"Well...yes I am" Peter said quietly that sounded like a mouse.

Well, that was all T'Challa needed to know. Peter was a little, which honestly wasn't that surprising now that he thought about it. Now that he was cleaned up, Peter had a bit of a squished face with chubby cheeks that complemented his warm eyes and curled hair.

Little's like Peter (who faced trauma and abuse) were put into Regression Therapy, where people they would be treated like large babies in order to help them forget about their pain.

He carefully gave the bottle to Peter, who in turn nervously began drinking it and gulping the milk down slowly. T'Challa noticed that Peter was getting drowsy and tired as he drank more of his milk, even though it was only seven, going to bed early was likely best for an abused Peter to get his rest.

By the time Peter had drank his bottle he had nearly fallen asleep himself, barley keeping his eyes open and letting out a big yawn.

"A perfect time to put him to sleep" T'Challa thought.   

Before Peter could even say anything, T'Challa picked him up once again and began carrying him over to the baby crib.

With the crib rails down, Peter was placed on the mattress easily and didn't put up a fight or argued that he didn't want to sleep in a baby crib. He was too tired to argue.

Carrots was placed up against his face.

Several blankets were placed over him.

He looked at T'Challa with his brown eyes, which spoke out as "why are you doing this for me?".

"Once again, I promise you won't have to deal with your Aunt anymore Peter. You won't ever be beaten or hurt again by her, as I will not be sending you back for whatever reason."

Peter was worried now. T'Challa words comforted him and made him feel better, but if Aunt wasn't caring for him he would likely end up in an orphanage or foster care. 

T'Challa placed a hand on Peter's head and ran his hand through Peter's curls "I won't be sending you away either" Peter had to wonder if T'Challa could read his mind "I fully intend to take care you from on. You can start fresh in Wakanda and have a new life with me as your parental guardian".

Peter wanted to speak and opened his mouth but no words came out.

It wouldn't have mattered anyway, as a pacifier was placed in his open mouth.

"Now try and get some sleep" T'Challa hushed.

Peter's eyes began closing again and it wasn't long before they were glued shut. Now, he truly trusted T'Challa and felt safe for the first time in years. 

He felt T'Challa leaning forward and felt a pressing on his head. 

I took him a second to realize T'Challa had just kissed him on the forehead. 

"Goodnight Peter" 

With that, the crib bars were placed up and Peter heard T'Challa leaving the room, closing the doors behind him. He feel asleep easily with dreams of him and Uncle Ben hugging.

"You'll always be safe with T'Challa and he'll take care good of you" he reassured.

Peter dreamed with a smile on his face. He was happy that he had found a home and a new parental figure.

It was truly was the best moment of his life.