Chapter Text
Getting the suit back is awesome, the paperwork that gets delivered not a day later, not so much. Half of the legalese flies over Peter’s head, and the small print gives him a headache, but according to them, he is both bound and an exception to the Sokovia accords, as long as he stays low. Which makes Peter wonder how much higher the stack of papers would have been, had he joined the Avengers.
Forget the Vulture, now that was a scary thought.
Oh, and he was also an intern at Stark Industries, for real this time, with a mandatory two hours per week lab time, that he figures are only for show. He’s delighted to have something official to show Flash up next time he gets too mean with the insults, but he can’t deny his stomach twists a little when he thinks that Mr. Stark is probably too busy to deal with him personally and that it will be months until he may see the hero again. He’s also trying to curb his calls to Happy, there are a hundred and fifty-two messages he's sent, and maybe Peter wants to hide for a week when he thinks about that. No wonder the man rejected his latter calls.
So imagine his surprise when Saturday afternoon, tired after a week of school, night patrols and various extracurricular activities, his phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number.
If you don’t come in the next two hours I’m reinstating the Training Wheels Protocol.
Scrambling to get into his suit, Peter stubs his toe on his desk and nearly topples the latest Lego project he and Ned had worked during the week, but in ten minutes he’s swinging across the city. His heart is beating so hard Karen asks about his state of mind, but he pays no attention. The former Avengers Tower looms in front of him just as he realizes that with the Stark Industries gone, this is no longer the right address, and maybe he should have read the papers a bit more thoroughly. Luckily, there’s a figure waving him down from the side of the Tower, and Peter can see Happy Hogan looking at him, tapping his foot.
“Get in the car.” Happy says as soon as Peter lands gracefully in front of him, and other than a sheepish salute from Peter, their conversation trickles to an early death as Happy raises the partition glass between them. When they arrive are at the Avengers Compound, Mr. Stark is there, one drink in hand and watching him with one eyebrow higher than the other.
“Mr. Stark, hi. I mean I thought that this wasn’t, you know, real. I mean I know it’s real, but not-”
“Get inside, Peter, before you run out of air,” the inventor puts down his drink and is already going for the elevator, anxious teenager hurrying beside him. Peter can barely keep from spilling too many words, but it’s hard when he’s not sure of what is about to happen.
“Here,” Mr. Stark says as he enters a code and the door swish open revealing an engineer’s idea of heaven. Peter is a little bit in love, as he goes in and reverently touches the equipment while Mr. Stark goes directly to a display system.
“Now, show me a bit what your web can do,” Peter is yanked out of his reverie just as a holographic display pops up in front of him with images and formulas and in the right corner an index with several deadly spiders.
The mandatory two hours pass far too quickly in Peter’s opinion.