I don't own Marvel or any of their characters.

A/N: I love kid fics, but usually the kid, whomever they may be, is left in the hands of at least moderately responsible adults. I want something that at least starts with no responsible adult supervision at all. Since I couldn't find it, I decided to write it. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

Peter shifted from one foot to another as the phone rang. "C'mon, pick up…pick up…pick uuuuup," he muttered, willing someone to answer, anyone. The call went to voicemail. He glanced at his companion sitting motionless on a crate in the alleyway. Peter turned and shifted a few steps away, closer to the edge of the circle of yellow security light surrounding them. "Hi, Mr. Stark," Peter said, grimacing. "It's me…Peter Parker. I uh…really need some help, like desperately need help or even just some advice. This isn't like the time I called about my science fair project this is an actual legit emergency. So if you're there, if you get this, please call back as soon as you can…thanks…"

"No one picked up," the other boy observed. He scratched at the dirty shirt he wore, wrinkled his nose and moved like he was trying to limit as much contact as possible with the clothes on his back while still wearing them. Considering they fished those clothes out of a dumpster, Peter couldn't blame him.

Peter winced, desperately trying to think of plan C. Happy was plan A and that went about as well as it normally did, which was to say Peter left a message with Happy's voice mail, too. "Yeah, not yet."

Peter glanced at the rusty door next to the wooden crate. It looked like it hadn't been used in years so hopefully no one would come through it and find them, but there was still a working light above it which at least let him keep a better eye on the kid. Then, Peter looked up at the ancient security camera mounted to keep an eye on the door. It was still broken, the front half of its lens clung to the main body by a piece of twisted metal and the casing around the rest had several large dents. Finally, he eyed the heap of cables and clamps laying in a crumpled heap just beyond the circle of light on the other side of the alleyway.

The boy cocked his head, eyes still staring, unfocused at the middle ground in front of him. "So what are you going to do now?"

"I'm…going to…I don't know," Peter moaned. He sat down on the crate next to the other boy, pushing Daredevil's red and black suit back against the brick wall behind them. "I have no idea what we're going to do."

The other boy snorted. "You might not know what you're going to do, but I'm going to head back to the orphanage. It might not be the best place to live, but it's better than the streets." The boy stood up, hands going out, one to the wood crate the other out in front of him to feel his way. He took a few shuffling steps toward the street. The motion brought him closer to the heap of cables and they glowed a faint blue.

"No! Nono!" Peter yelped and jumped up, simultaneously trying to place himself between the boy and the street and the heap of cables. Choosing between the two wasn't necessary because a moment later the kid grimaced and shuffled away from the cables himself. The cables went dark again and Peter shifted so he mainly blocked the alley entrance. "You can't go anywhere right now! This situation…your situation is a lot more complicated than you realize."

"Then explain it to me," the boy growled, a smaller, less experienced version of the death glare his adult-self used on criminals. "You said you would after you made a phone call and you've made two." He picked at the shirt he wore, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Peter groaned again, bringing his hands to his masked face. He really needed an adult but all the adults he knew that were qualified for this weren't answering their damn phones or were…not adults anymore. "Ok…ok…just sit down. I'll try and explain."

The boy glared at Peter a moment before shuffling back and sitting back down on the crate. He gripped the edge of the crate, knuckles turning white.

"Ok," Peter said, trying to figure out how he was going to explain Daredevil to Daredevil. "So…You're an adult."

The boy's eyebrows rose in the most patent look of disbelief Peter had ever seen.

"Just hear me out," Peter said, hands up and stepping closer, "You're actually supposed to be an adult. You're a vigilante named Daredevil and sometimes we team up so you can teach me awesome vigilante stuff. We were investigating a bunch of disappearances and ended up fighting this mad-scientist-inventor guy in a warehouse and he hit you with this weird cable-thing-"

"That's the thing on the ground over there?" the kid asked, pointing toward the heap of cables.

"Yeah," Peter said, eyeing the object a moment before putting himself between it and Daredevil again. "It wrapped around you like a restraint or something and I thought that's all it was and that you'd get out of it because you're squirrely like that so I kept fighting. But then you screamed and there was all this light and you went unconscious and the next thing I know you were shrinking or something. So I just grabbed you and ran out of there."

The panic Peter had felt when he'd realized how bad the situation had gotten was not going to leave him any time soon. In fact, Peter was pretty sure he was going to have nightmares about the following moments when they'd landed in this alleyway and he'd desperately ripped the cable restraints off of Daredevil and flung them into the heap where they now sat. Then, there was a sort of confused-panic when Peter, after a serious internally debate about secret identities and medical emergencies, had pulled off Daredevil's loose-fitting mask only to find the vigilante was now twelve or thirteen years old. Then, there was the follow-up panic when Daredevil woke up, didn't remember anything, tried to attack Peter, and turned out to be blind. Now Peter had this slow-burn background panic on what he should next. On the whole, there had been a lot of panic in the last hour or two.

"You can't turn an adult into a kid. It's not possible," miniature Daredevil said, face straight, tone flat.

"It's true, I swear," Peter said, glancing back to the street. Another car passed by, the traffic seemed to be picking up and the sky was definitely a lighter shade than half an hour ago. It must be almost dawn. Aunt May was going to be worried. At least it was Friday night…or was that Saturday morning? It was the weekend, that was all that mattered. "Weirder things have happened in the last five years…none of which you would remember if you've lost your memory…" Peter dropped his head into his hands desperate to convince Daredevil and unsure how he could manage it. "How else are you going to explain waking up in oversized body armor? Or that restraint thing that glows every time you get near it?"

The boy pursed his lips, head cocked as if listening to something. He huffed after a moment. "Still not proof," he mumbled, then spoke louder, "Besides, how am I supposed to know it glows?" He waved a hand in front of his eyes.

"Well you sure know it's doing something," Peter countered. Maybe he was getting through to the kid.

Daredevil shifted in his seat, head tilting down and away in a familiar motion.

Peter guessed that was as much of an admission to his point as he was going to get. At the moment he'd take it, because he had more pressing issues at hand, too many pressing issues at hand. "The thing I don't get is how you're blind."

Daredevil's expression twisted in confusion. "You're claiming that we fought a mad-scientist who turned adult-me into kid-me with some weird…thing and you're wondering how I'm blind? Hate to break this to you, but blind people exist." Apparently, Daredevil was just as sassy when he was a kid as when he became an adult.

Peter shrugged and sat back down next to miniature Daredevil on the crate. "Well, I mean, adult-you does all these amazing parkour tricks and fighting moves, but kid-you is blind so unless you got your eyesight back sometime when you grew up or something I don't see how it's possible. Though you did a pretty good job with those punches when you woke up…a really good job…" Peter frowned as he thought over the few well-placed punches before he managed to web the kid's arms and legs together and talk the kid down. Actually, the thing Peter really should be worried about was where they were going to go. Dawn was getting closer with each passing moment. He was stuck on the blind thing, though.

Daredevil shifted where he sat again, face twisting into a scowl.

"What?" Peter asked, then it clicked. He was an idiot. Weirder things had happened like he just said. Peter could climb up walls with his bare hands and feet, who was to say Daredevil didn't have powers to compensate for the blind thing. It would explain so much. "Oh my gosh, you're blind. Adult you is blind. You didn't get your sight back at some point growing up. Wait… can you do all that stuff now? I mean as a kid?" Peter stared as the miniature version of Daredevil squirmed then scowled, hunching his shoulders in on himself.

"None of your business," the kid muttered.

"Oh my gosh, you can!" Peter jumped up. "Wait! This can help us!"

The scowl shifted from annoyed to more curious. "How?"

"Adult you is an expert tracker. He knows things, where people are, where they go, where they were. If you can do that then you can figure out where adult you lives and then at least we'll have a place for you to stay until we figure out how to undo this! How's your nose? Do you think you can track your route tonight by smell?" This had to work, Peter really didn't want to have to bring the kid home and come up with a story to tell Aunt May. That would open a can of worms no one was prepared to handle.

Daredevil's miniature scowl came back full force. "I'm not a bloodhound," he growled.

"Yeah but do you have the nose of a bloodhound?" Peter grabbed the suit and thrust it in front of Daredevil. "If you used this as a baseline, could you track adult-you's scent to your apartment?"

Daredevil recoiled, face twisting. "I guess?"

When the kid still hesitated, Peter tried another track. "Look, Double D…actually, what's your name?" He felt bad for finding out Daredevil's identity this way but he couldn't keep calling this kid Daredevil, especially if this went on for much longer. Besides, they were hopefully going to find Daredevil's home anyway.

The kid paused another moment before saying, "Matt."

"Ok, Matt...I'm Peter," Peter said, it was only fair. Peter got Matt's first name, Matt got Peter's first name, equivalent exchange. "You can't stay here. It's going to be dawn soon and people will notice a blind kid sitting on a wooden crate in a back alley. You can't go back to the orphanage because whether you believe me or not, you're an adult and you don't live there anymore." Actually, when Peter got a moment to process all of this he was probably going to reflect on how sucky Daredevil's life must have been being a blind orphan. No wonder the guy had anger issues. "If I have to bring you home with me I will, but if my aunt finds you she's going to ask all these awkward questions that I don't have answers for and will probably end with a call to social services. I'm sure you want to get out of those clothes I fished for you out of the dumpster, so our best bet for all of that is finding adult-you's home."

Matt pursed his lips, sightless eyes staring straight ahead. He huffed out a sigh, "Fine. We should probably start where you first met up with adult-me tonight and I can try and back track the scent."

Peter nodded, then realized the kid might not be able to tell that. "I nodded," he said. Then he immediately realized if kid-Matt had the same abilities as adult-Daredevil-Matt then he probably could tell Peter nodded but it really didn't matter because Matt's straight-lined mouth twitched up into the first grin of the night so maybe it was a good thing even if it wasn't necessary. "Oh, we need to bring your suit with us…uh, here's a bag." Peter scooped up an old plastic shopping bag from behind the crate and stuffed the suit into it.

Matt wrinkled his nose as Peter handed the bag to him.

"We can wash it when we get back to your place," Peter said, not even entertaining the thought that this might not work. He paused, looking back to the cable-restraint thing. "We should probably take that thing with us, too."

Scowling, Matt shifted away from the device. "I don't want it near me. I don't like it."

"We can't leave it here, what if it hurts someone else?" Peter stared at it, not particularly wanting to go near it either. It hadn't done anything to him when he'd pulled it off Daredevil, but then again, he hadn't been paying too much attention at the time. He'd been more focused on the fact that his fellow vigilante was shrinking. "Or what if we need it to make you normal again?"

Matt brought up both hands and shuffled away from the thing. "Bring it if you want, but I'm not touching it or going near it or anything like that."

Humming to himself, Peter turned back to the dumpster where he found the clothes Matt currently wore. It was difficult to see in the poor light and the smell was awful. After a few minutes of rifling through trash he pulled out several plastic and a ripped canvas bag with a long handle. It took a moment to get the guts to touch the cables again, but they didn't hurt when he did. As far as Peter could tell, they didn't do anything. He wrapped them in layers of plastic bags then jury rigged it with the ripped canvas bag so he could sling it around his shoulders to rest in front of him.

Peter turned back to Matt, hoping that having himself between Matt and the thing would be enough protection for now. "Here, get on my back and hold on tight. Time to track down adult-you."

TBC…

A/N: I made a promise to myself after the last long multi-chapter story that I would finish my multi-chapter stories 90% or 100% before posting them, but this is where I break that promise. I have five chapters of this story written with ideas for more, but I'd like to see if I get any suggestions or ideas from people reading this story so please leave a review and let me know what you think.