Work Text:
The day the press show up on the grounds of Midtown High is the day the world - or, at the very least, Peter’s world - comes crashing down.
It’s during Peter’s lunch hour that they arrive. He doesn’t notice, at first, too caught up in listening to Ned talk about the newest Star Wars LEGO set. It’s not until someone at the table next to them says, “Are those reporters?” that Peter actually turns to look out the window.
A whole news station worth of reporters stands on the school steps, flooding down onto the walkway and into the grass. There's cameras and microphones and shouting, and Peter can feel his skin itching just looking at them.
He's not good with crowds. Crowds are loud and hectic and claustrophobic, and his enhanced senses don't handle any of those things well.
Students are getting up and heading outside to see what the commotion is about. Peter doesn't care enough to do the same.
That is, until Ned pokes him in the side and says, "Hey, what if they're here for you?"
They're not. There's no way in hell they are because that's impossible. The only reasons the press would be banging down Midtown High's door to talk to Peter Parker would be that they found out he's Spider-Man, and while he might not be very good at keeping secrets from his loved ones, he's been vigilant about keeping his identity unknown to the general public.
So no, they can't be here for him. They must be here for...something else. Someone else.
Who? Peter has no idea, but it's not him.
Is it?
Dammit. Now that the idea's in his head, he can't not go check.
"Come on, guys." Peter stands, swings his backpack over one shoulder. Heads toward the building's main entrance with Ned's hand in his, MJ's calming presence beside him, and his stomach already twisting.
They practically have to wade through the sea of excited teenagers to get out the doors. When they do, the whole courtyard goes silent.
Every set of eyes turns to him.
And then the crowd explodes.
In a split second, there's flashing cameras and hands pushing him to the edge of the top stair and microphones being shoved in his face and questions being thrown at him left and right and -
(he can't breathe he can't breathe he can't breathe)
- too many mingling voices and too many lights and too many sounds and -
(he can't fucking breathe)
- a familiar hand on his wrist. Peter turns, frantically searching for comfort, for Ned, as anxiety courses through his veins and his ears beg for the noise to stop. He finds him quickly, looking stone-faced but immediately softening as Peter meets his eyes.
Ned steps closer to him, leaning in to whisper without his words being broadcast to the world. "Breathe, baby. I'm right here, okay? You're alright, I promise."
Peter inhales sharply through his nose, exhales gently through his mouth. His head pounds, unappreciative of the assault on his senses, but he does his best to tune out everything but Ned's fingers on his skin.
MJ is yelling at the reporters. Peter can only catch snatches (Don't you know what privacy is? He's a fucking minor, for God's sake!), but he's very aware of how angry her tone is.
Okay. So they know he's Spider-Man. That's...fine. It's totally fine. He can handle this. He just has to figure out what to do.
Call Tony, his brain supplies.
A good idea in theory, but not when he's still standing on the front steps of his high school with journalists trying to jump down his throat. He'll call Tony first thing when he gets out of this, but Peter has a feeling he's not going to get out of this without saying something.
Peter turns to the crowd, feeling much like a deer in headlights, and shakes Ned's hand off his wrist just to clutch it in his own instead. He reaches out for MJ's sleeve as well tugging her close and giving her a nod that he hopes says, I'm okay, you can stop fighting the press on my behalf.
There are way too many people looking at him.
As soon as he so much as glances at the reporters, there's a new barrage of questions. Peter can't make out anything other than his name, shouted over and over in an attempt to capture his attention, and he's about ready to throw up when a shrill sound tears through the air and makes Peter's hands fly up to his ears.
A girl Peter is almost certain he's never seen before, pulls a whistle from between her teeth and lets it dangle from the string around her neck. She doesn't even say anything, just gestures to Peter in a you have the floor motion.
"I never thought I'd have this much respect for the captain of a marching band," MJ whispers reverently.
Peter almost laughs, but well. Circumstances.
Instead, he stares out at the now-quiet crowd and croaks out, "Does - does someone want to tell me what's happening here?"
He knows the answer. Spider-Man. But he can't just say that. And anyway, he still needs to know how they found out.
Everyone starts talking at once again until MJ shouts, "One at a fucking time!" and every single hand in the crowd shoots up. Dazedly, Peter points to a short woman with a bob and a gray pantsuit in the front of the mob.
She goes straight to asking, "Is it true that you have level 10 clearance at Stark Tower?"
That's.
Not Spider-Man related.
Which is good, he supposes. But on the other hand, what the fuck?
"I - where did you even hear that?" It's not false, just...not supposed to be public knowledge. Very little about Peter Parker is supposed to be public knowledge.
"Is it true that you're Tony Stark's illegitimate son and that's why you have such high clearance at a company where only three other people have level 10 clearance, being Pepper Potts, Colonel James Rhodes, and Tony Stark himself?"
What?
The words don't even make sense. Tony Stark's son? How the hell could anyone think he was Tony Stark's son?
When he doesn't answer, the reporter barrels on. "Why does a seventeen-year-old kid from Queens have a level of clearance that's only been awarded to those closest to Tony Stark? Tell us - who is Peter Parker and why is he important to one of the most powerful men in the country?"
This is not happening. This isn't happening, because if this is happening, then there must have been a security breach at Stark Tower and there's never been a security breach at Stark Tower.
Peter's phone buzzes in his pocket. He makes no move to answer it. His fingers are too numb to hold it.
He has no idea what he's supposed to say. Tony has briefed him on what to do in this exact situation before, but now he can't remember a word of it.
His hand is sweaty in Ned's and his chest is tight. He's vaguely aware that he's teetering toward panic attack territory, but he has no idea what to do about that either.
The phone stops buzzing. Then, half a second later, starts again.
This time, MJ pulls it out of his front pocket. "Peter, it's Stark."
He doesn't release MJ's sleeve. Doesn't speak. He's too busy trying to get air into his lungs to focus on anything else.
"Give it here," Ned says. There's a bit of an awkward handover, since Peter has a death grip on both of them, but eventually, Ned has the phone pressed to his ear and is talking quickly. "Hi, Mr. Stark, it's Ned. There's - what? Oh, shit - yeah, there's a bunch of reporters at school and Peter's - he's okay, he's right here - no, he hasn't said anything - okay, okay - yeah, I've got it. Okay, see you soon."
The horde of reporters, which had quieted while Ned spoke to Tony, starts right back up again.
"Peter Parker, what is your relationship to Tony Stark?"
"Mr. Parker, why does Tony Stark trust you, of all people?"
"Peter, have you met the other Avengers?"
"Peter, is this your boyfriend?"
He almost says yes to the last one, just because it's so out of place and part of him figures that if the whole world is going to be talking about him, he might as well let part of it be of his own volition. But Ned is tugging him along, shoving past the students who have gathered to watch the show, and it's probably for the best that Peter doesn't become the next target for angry homophobes on top of everything else. Not right this second, at least.
They make it inside, but Ned doesn't stop walking. He keeps going, Peter in tow and MJ on their heels, until they reach the second floor boy's bathroom, the one that no one ever uses.
The door shuts behind them and Ned says, "Okay. Okay. So that happened."
Peter nods blankly.
"Okay, uh - Mr. Stark is on his way to pick you up, Peter. May's meeting you at the compound."
Peter continues nodding.
"Jesus, alright - Peter, love, look at me." Ned takes Peter's chin in his free hand and tilts his head until Peter's staring blearily at him. "You're okay. It's gonna be okay. There's no more reporters, no more lights and noise, yeah? It's just me and MJ. You're dissociating, but I need you to come back down, alright? Can you do that for me?"
Dissociating. Right.
He's blinking back into reality before he can even decide if he wants to or not.
"M'here," he says. It comes out softer than he'd meant it too.
Ned lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes his hand. MJ, who'd been standing a few feet away and letting Ned do his thing, comes over to clap Peter on the back.
He's okay. He's safe. He's breathing. He's here.
He's apparently the biggest new public interest, but that's a whole other issue.
Tony will be here soon. He's dealt with the press since he was a kid himself, he'll know what to do. They'll figure it out together, Peter and Tony and May.
But until then, his two best friends are here to hug him tight in the middle of a high school bathroom.