Chapter Text
The rain had started shortly after Peter went out on patrol. Clouds had started rolling in while he was in school, threatening to rain at any given moment. May had tried to persuade him to come home instead, but Peter insisted a little rain never hurt anyone.
That and he had really good heaters in the suit, one that could constantly run, keeping Peter just warm enough. And Mr. Stark made the lens on his suit waterproof to avoid becoming a spider pancake on the side of a building. His suit could handle a little bit of water, ergo so should Peter.
That didn’t mean he was out standing around in the rain. Quite the opposite, in fact, he’d found a nice little hiding spot on a decorative ledge of a hotel, the hotel’s roof stretched well over his head, keeping him out of the rain completely.
He’d only been settled for a few minutes before Karen chimed in his ear. “Incoming call from Mr. Stark.”
Peter had to roll his eyes, he knew exactly why Mr. Stark was calling him. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the man, he really did, but since the whole Vulture thing, he started becoming a bit of a mother hen.
Doing a complete 180, instead of radio silence, Mr. Stark was in almost constant communication with him, either by text, phone calls, or messages to Karen. Still sending him weekly Spider-man reports, Mr. Stark seemed to listen to those all the time now, wanting to know more information or offering advice and pointers if he saw something he could help improve.
He was constantly offering upgrades for the suit, ways to improve how Peter handled himself, trying to give Peter everything he needed (ergo the waterproof lenses). Mr. Stark was also helping him learn how to defend himself when it came to fights. He still didn’t want Peter to engage with people, it was merely to help May sleep better at night, knowing Peter could defend himself in hand-to-hand combat if it came down to it.
While that was all well and good, it was the involvement in Peter Parker’s life that was really different. While his internship wasn’t official by any means, Mr. Stark invited him over weekly for a lab day. Peter mostly worked on Spider-man stuff, but every so often Mr. Stark would throw a different project his way. More often than not they’d eat dinner together, sometimes even retiring into the living room to watch a movie.
Eventually Mr. Stark caught wind of a project Peter had been working on outside of Spider-man, a sort of smart bandage that was inspired by his web formula. It went from a small idea into a big project the second Mr. Stark saw him working on it. Mr. Stark even paraded the idea (and thankfully not Peter himself) around SI, much to Peter’s embarrassment.
All in all, it was amazing how much changed over a short period between them.
“Go ahead and answer,” Peter responded. “Hi, Mr. Stark.”
“Hey kid, saw it was raining, just wanted to see if you were heading home for the night.”
“You know,” Peter said casually. “I’m not going to like, melt or anything. I can handle a little rain.”
Mr. Stark chuckled. “It’s not that I think you’ll melt, Pete. I’m more worried about your lack of thermoregulation. If memory serves me correctly, last time you got too cold you almost went into hibernation and scared me and May half to death.”
“That,” Peter said sternly, “was ages ago when I had no idea how my abilities worked. I’m on top of things now and I have this handy dandy heater in my suit to keep me from being cold.”
“I put that in as a precaution, not an encouragement. Are you at least staying out of the rain?”
“I’m outside, but yeah, I’m covered. I’m just gonna stay out a bit longer, just until curfew.”
Letting out what sounded like a very annoyed sigh, Mr. Stark didn’t say anything for a moment. “Just try to keep yourself as warm as possible, alright? If it starts raining any harder, do me a favor and head home?”
“Yes, Dad,” Peter replied in a mocking tone, but immediately regretted it. A beat of awkward silence went by before Peter started stuttering. “I mean, like, Mr. Stark. I know you’re not my Dad. Or anything. I’m not like saying that-”
Mr. Stark’s hearty laughter only worsened his embarrassment, he could feel his face burning red under the mask, grateful he didn’t say those words to the man’s face at least. “Kid,” Mr. Stark started. “I get it. Chill out, will you.”
“Yeah,” Peter let out, leaning his head back against the brick. “Yeah, so uh, goodnight, Mr. Stark.”
“Goodnight, kiddo. Do me a favor and drop me a text when you’re back home too.”
After Mr. Stark hung up, Peter sighed again, heels still bouncing off the wet brick. “That was highly embarrassing,” he mumbled to himself.
“I don’t think Mr. Stark thought it was embarrassing, Peter,” Karen so helpfully chimed in. “He seemed to find it amusing.”
“Ha,” Peter responded, bringing up his legs to sit cross legged on the edge. Sighing he looked out into the vast city before him. While he sat, Karne was on the lookout for anything interesting happening, ready to pass the information along to him.
“While you are waiting, would you like me to continue reading The Awakening? Your test is next week and you still have 85 pages of the book left.”
“Might as well.”
If he was going to have to sit around, he might as well kill two birds with one stone and get some English work finished. Having Karen read his books to him had been the trick in doing well on his last few assignments.
-
Thirty minutes later, just as Karen was nearing the end of the book, she abruptly stopped. “A robbery seems to be in progress 5 blocks north of here. A burglar alarm was triggered, the police will arrive in approximately 15 minutes. Shall I chart a course?”
“Hell ya,” Peter answered, already up and following the path Karen had laid out for him. The rain was still coming down, but not enough to deter him from going.
Landing softly in an alleyway across from a small office building, Peter couldn’t see much of what was going inside. The only source of light was a handful of street lamps and a soft glow coming from flashlights in the building’s front.
“Why do you think they are robbing an office building? Are they out of staplers or something?”
“I’m unsure of their reasoning, Peter.”
Getting a little closer, he could hear the sound of people talking, bumbling around inside of the building. Karen turned on his reconnaissance mode without request and Peter was able to see three people standing in the small lobby of the building. Since they were all wearing red masks, facial scans were out of the question, but Karen still went to work, gathering as much data as she could.
“Alright,” he spoke mostly to himself. “Let’s get these punks.”
Without really having a plan, he pushed the already broken door open and walked straight into the lobby. All three criminals looked up at the same time, stopping their rummaging at the reception desk to stare at Peter.
“Uh,” Peter started, a little unsure as to what he should say suddenly. “I know this is totally cliche, but uh, freeze.”
Two of the men immediately charged at him, leaving Peter to go on the defensive. His spider sense eased him into a familiar routine of ducking and moving out of the way before any blow could be landed on him. Unlike most TV shows Peter’s watched, the two criminals seemed keen on attacking at the same time, while the third just seemed to hover in the back. Peter’s plan at that point was to keep them busy and web them up before the police arrived, handing them over in a nice bow.
“You guys couldn’t have picked a better night, by the way?” He questioned, easily ducking away again. “I mean, it’s just rain, but you could have just stayed home. In fact, you didn’t have to do any of this at all, really. There are much better things to do in Queens that don’t revolve around petty theft.”
One of the men went to grab Peter from behind, but he was quicker, turning around and kicking his legs out from under him, a move taught to him by Mr. Stark. It wasn’t quite as perfect as it could have been, but the job was done. The criminal landed hard on his butt, while the other one attempted the same move.
“Really?” Peter questioned, turning on his heel and also delivering the same move. “You just saw your friend fail at the same thing.”
“You’re really fucking chatty,” the guy behind him mumbled, as he rose to his feet.
“I’ve heard,” Peter answered, he brought his hand out aiming his web shooters at the man when a sudden piercing noise seemed to bore a hole straight through his skull. Jerking his hand away, he instinctively brought them over both of his ears but the sound did not lessen in any sense.
“Shit,” he breathed, his lungs suddenly feeling constricted, the sound becoming a vice around his chest. Trying to move away and protect himself, he swayed on his feet, unable to command his legs to work. Instead of following any of his commands, he felt himself listing to the side, as the putrid taste of vomit climbed up his throat.
Some part of him must still have been working or aware in some sense, because the next second he was up on the ceiling, crawling towards the corner of the room. Glad he was out of reach of the criminals below, he doubted he could defend himself right now, either from getting hurt or worse, getting his mask taken off.
Time was completely lost on him, he could have stayed there for hours or minutes, days or years, the only constant thing was the piercing noise that was starting to make his muscles lock up and seize, his body becoming rigid and unmoving. Lungs still constricting painfully, he desperately tried to suck in as much as he could, but he knew it wasn’t enough. He felt himself slipping away, losing the ability to think coherently, to understand what was even happening to him.
And then it just stopped.
Replacing the noise was the sound of Kare’s voice urging Peter to leave the premises. Peeling open his eyes, he was struck with a moment of pure disorientation, having briefly forgotten he was hanging from the ceiling. The muscles that had just been contracted were stinging, begging to be stretched and moved. His entire body hurt, there wasn’t a part of him that didn’t have some sensation of pins and needles.
Taking as much precaution as he could, he slowly dropped down from the ceiling, his body aching from movement. His stomach lurched, bile rising in his throat again, while his head was pounding back to front, he could barely concentrate on Karen’s constant words.
“Peter I would recommend you leave at this time, the police should be arriving shortly.”
“Yeah,” he finally got out, throat feeling sore as if he’d spent the entire time screaming, which of all he knew, he might have. As he moved out the door, he bounced off the door frame, his movements were clumsy and heavy, his body still not working as it should. Taking far too long and too much effort on his part, Peter was able to get across the street and up on the roof of a building, just as the police pulled into the parking lot.
The second he landed, he fell to the ground, laying on his back against the cool concrete, unbothered by the rain coming down on him. Closing his eyes, he willed his body to stop feeling so unsteady and weird. The pins and needles sensation was slowly receding, his body starting to feel normal again.
After taking several steady breaths, he was finally able to speak without wanting to hurl. “Any idea what the hell just happened, Karen?”
Despite the circumstance, he was trying very hard not to be terrified. He had no idea if the criminals were affected, or if they were even the cause of it. He also had no idea why Karen hadn’t tried to do something to help either since he knew there were sound dampeners already within his suit. He dimly wondered if Karen alerted Mr. Stark too since Peter was sure his vitals must have crashed at some point.
“It appears you were affected by a sound registering at 44 kilohertz.”
“Okay,” Peter pulled up his mask over his mouth and nose. “Just me?”
“It seems likely since that is a frequency that humans can not detect.”
Well, that explained why the criminals were able to escape, they didn't even hear the sound. They just saw Spider-man completely freak out and high tailed it out of the building.
“Any reason why I was able to hear it then?”
“While you are human, the spider bite has given you enhanced senses. While I do not have any hard data available, I hypothesize that you may have inherited the ability to hear similar frequencies to that of a spider.”
“Did you try to dampen the sound? Could you hear it?”
“I was unaffected by the frequency. As of right now, your sound dampeners are not set to block it out. I recommend you alert Mr. Stark and make the appropriate changes to avoid a similar situation.”
“Ugh,” Peter sighed. “Any idea where it came from? Did those guys set something off?”
“I am unsure of the origins of the sound, Peter. Several types of bug repellent devices send out frequencies meant to keep spiders and insects away. The office building might have been equipped with such.”
“That sucks,” Peter mumbled, he was finally starting to feel a little bit better. He lifted his hands, shaking them, moving his fingers around for a minute or so. Sitting up, he bent his knees, moved his legs a little too. He felt a little dizzy still, the world moving a little faster than usual, everything slightly off kilter.
“Is there anything wrong with me? Did the sound do any damage?”
“I detect a perforated eardrum, however, your healing abilities have caused the bleeding to stop. Any tinnitus or dizziness should slowly fade away. Do you want me to call Mr. Stark for assistance?”
“No,” Peter answered quickly, reaching up, he pulled the mask off his face completely, touching his ears delicately. He felt the not quite dry blood there, it alarmed him just a little that he didn’t realize he’d started bleeding from the ears.
After thinking about it for a moment, he decided not to call Mr. Stark. He was pretty much better at that point, there was no need to worry him.
“Do you think I can make it home?”
“I would suggest you wait until you are no longer dizzy, Peter. But I do not see any medical reason why you should not be able to make it home.”
Sighing Peter thought on it, Karen was probably right, like usual. “Alright, I’mma just lay here and relax for a moment. Can you turn the heaters up a little higher?”
“Of course Peter.”
Laying back down, Peter thought he should at least move out of the rain, but found himself unbothered. Fifteen minutes later, Peter tried to sit up again, when he had no feeling of vertigo, he decided it was good enough.
With the heaters still on full blast, he slowly made his way home.
-
By the next morning, Peter was 100% back to normal, so much he decided telling May or Mr. Stark exactly what happened the night before wasn't strictly necessary. It was only Thursday, he’d be back in the lab with Mr. Stark on Monday, he could wait until then. He’d just add it to his normal weekend patrol report, a casual addition to it. The likelihood of it happening again was slim, he’d never encountered it in over the last nearly 2 years of being Spider-man, anyway.
Thursday & Friday night’s patrols were marred with more rain, so much so that he called it quits nearly three hours early on Friday. When Saturday rolled around, it was a bright, warm day without a cloud in the sky, so he took to the streets for some patrolling in the afternoon. He had evening plans with Ned, dinner, and a movie marathon, but he could still squeeze in some Spider-man time anyway.
Despite Peter being more than ready, it seemed Queens wasn’t in the mood for any superhero antics. After spending almost 2 hours swinging around, nothing was happening. Finally giving up, he started back towards his apartment.
“Karen, call Ned.”
A few rings later, Ned picked up the sound of his video game playing in the background. “What’s up?”
“Mind if I head over early? Today’s a bust.”
“Hell yes, dude. Mom’s making your lemon pasta dish.”
That fact alone had Peter moving a little faster to get to his apartment. “Cool. I’m gonna change then head over.”
“Kay, bye,” Ned said, sounding distracted right as Karen hung up their call.
A jolt to the back of his neck, made him stop mid swing, nearly hitting a billboard. Adjusting in enough time not to look like an idiot, he came to a landing on a roof. The hairs on his arms stood up, a chill swept over him, and the sudden feeling that someone was following him flooded through his veins.
While Mr. Stark and May always got on his case about changing in alleys, he tried to explain to them that his spider sense would warn him if someone could see him. No one was sure how it worked, but Peter always could tell if it was safe to change and now if it was safe to head home.
“Is anyone following me?” He asked Karen. His HUD turned into an aerial view, highlighting several individuals who were on the street below him.
“I can not tell if anyone has been following you, Peter. If you feel unsafe, I would recommend not going home and contacting Mr. Stark.”
Mr. Stark had done a really good job of making sure Karen always mentioned how Peter should reach out to him. The joke was on Mr. Stark, it really just made Peter want to contact him less.
That and he was sure Mr. Stark would show up, guns blazing, if Peter told him he might be being followed. Or he’d make Peter stay in for a few days. Either way, it would be nothing but embarrassment all around.
“I’m going to head in a different direction, can you run surveillance and alert me if someone follows? And text Ned, tell him I might be a little late but not to worry.”
“Sure thing, Peter.”
Having watched a lot of spy movies, Peter had some idea as to how to lose someone following him. Swinging made it a lot easier too, he could go pretty fast, and get into places a normal person couldn’t. He headed out in the same direction he’d been going, but took a left instead of a right and started making a large circle around the area.
“There appeared to be a van that was following your route, Peter. It made several of the same turns you have, but it now appears to be stationary three blocks to your right.”
The spider sense that kept him warned had slowly started to fade but he turned anyway, making his way towards the van.
“Wouldn’t hurt to just take a peak,” Peter said, the curiosity now a stronger feeling than being worried about it. If someone was following him, he gave up rather quickly.
Landing on the roof of a bank, he hid behind an ornate statue, well out of sight for the van Karen had pointed out to be the one following him. It was, of course, a nondescript white van parked in front of a 24 hour laundry mat.
“Can you get the license plate?” Peter asked, watching his HUD as Karen zoomed in and took a snapshot for him. “Run it, let me know if anything comes up.”
After a moment, Karen came up with an answer. A picture of an older white man came up on his HUD, alongside a copy of his driver's license, car registration, and a hand of other documents. “Give me the cliff notes.”
“The car is registered to 47 year old New York native, Mason Banks, currently employed as a chemist at Alchemax Tower in New York. Mr. Banks does not have any criminal record or association with any criminal enterprises.”
“Hm,” Peter pursed his lips, looking out at the van. “And we’re sure he was following me?”
“I can not be completely sure, Peter, but he was following your route for several minutes until parking at this street. The pattern you were making was random, the chances that he was following you are high.”
“Or he could be lost,” Peter offered. “I mean, he lives in Manhattan, but still, some people are bad with directions. Or maybe he’s a fan and just wanted to see me. I mean there are several other reasons besides wanting to kidnap me.”
Karen didn’t answer, she’d gotten pretty good at knowing when Peter was going off with rhetorical questions. He didn’t know why he was making so many excuses that it was just a coincidence the man was following him. He stayed crouched for another few minutes before finally getting up.
“Alright, I’m gonna go home and to Ned’s. Save the information about Banks, just in case but don’t tell Mr. Stark about it just yet, okay?”
Karen agreed and Peter set off towards his apartment, his spider sense staying quiet.
-
Peter’s stomach made a loud growling sound as he finished carrying Mrs. Wayans' groceries up her steps. Despite not being able to see his face, he gave Mrs. Wayans a sheepish grin.
“Want me to fix you up something for dinner, hunny?”
“No thank you, Mrs. Wayans. I’m heading home right after this.”
“You sure? I don’t mind sending you off with a sandwich, as a thank you for all your help.”
Spotting Mrs. Wayans struggling to carry several bags of groceries as he patrolled, he offered to help her carry them from the bus stop, all the way to her apartment a few blocks down. Once he was there, it was only a quick trip up to her 5th story apartment.
“Just doin’ my job, but thank you. I’ve got dinner waiting for me at home.”
He was lying just a little, dinner was at home for him but certainly not ready to go. May was out for a coworker's birthday dinner and Peter was left to fend for himself. Mrs. Wayans waved him off, as Peter took off down the block before swinging out into the open air.
“Incoming call from Mr. Stark,” Karen politely informed him, as he made his way through the sky. He’d just seen the man two days ago on their normal lab night. He assumed the call was more of a social one, or that Karen snitched about the potential stalking incident.
“Accept,” he answered. “Hi, Mr. Stark.”
“Hey kid, what are you up to?”
“Just finished patrol.”
Just as the words left his mouth, an odd buzzing noise filled his ears. Not quite as loud or painful as the one at the robbery. Yet it still caused him to jerk suddenly, landing not so gracefully on a rooftop. His body went rigid again, hands and feet tingling, but then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped.
It took a moment before he was able to orientate himself and to realize Mr. Stark was calling his name with growing worry. “Peter? Pete? You alright there kid? You’ve got 5 seconds to answer before I come and get you.”
“Yeah,” he said, swallowing a little thickly. “Sorry, I don’t, that was weird.”
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Peter said truthfully. “I was fine and then I heard a weird buzzing sound, it just kinda made me freeze for a second.”
“Are you okay? Your heart rate is a little elevated.”
“Yeah, I’m alright now. It was just a second, I swear.”
Concern was still heavy in Mr. Stark’s voice. “Come to the Tower tonight. I know May is out and if something is wrong, I’d rather you get checked out here.”
That was another thing Peter was getting used to, the fact that Mr. Stark and May communicated about him, seemingly all the time. It made him equal parts embarrassed and worried.
Chewing on his bottom lip, he weighed his options. Going to the Tower meant Mr. Stark would question him about the incident but it also meant Mr. Stark would feed him something besides a frozen pizza. The growl of his stomach answered the question for him.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll head over.”
“Do you want me to send Happy to get you?”
“Nah, I’m not too far away. I’ll swing up to the penthouse.”
“Don’t you dare think about climbing up to the penthouse, Peter Parker. Come up to the back employee entrance. FRIDAY will get you inside and then you can head up to the penthouse, safety.”
“Aw, come on Mr. Stark, you know I can climb up there, no problem.”
“Might not be a problem for you, Pete, but I don’t think my heart can take it.”
-
Walking through the employee entrance was a little weird. While the workday was over, a few people were working late and Peter did everything he could to avoid any of them seeing him. Most people knew Spider-man and Iron Man were “friends” but it was another thing seeing Spider-man walking through Stark Industries and heading up to the penthouse.
FRIDAY easily let him into the penthouse elevators, taking him to the main floor without Peter having to say a word. When FRIDAY did things like this, it just made Peter feel like he actually belonged in those places.
“Hey, Mr. Stark,” he called out as he walked out of the elevator. Despite the lack of other people, he still kept the mask on, just out of concern. The last thing he needed was to accidentally out himself to someone else.
A moment later Mr. Stark came around the corner. “Hey kid,” he said as he casually strolled up. “Change up in your room, then head down to the lounge. I’ve got dinner on the way.”
“Sweet.”
Perhaps the biggest adjustment was having his room at the Tower. What was once a guest room, soon found itself becoming frequently used by him. A month into their newfound friendship, Peter accidentally set off his web formula, causing it to explode all over him. While he was fine, his jeans and shirt weren’t so lucky. Mr. Stark handed Peter some of his clothing, but after that suggested Peter leave some things at the Tower. Since he’d often come over after patrolling too, it only seemed natural to leave something around to change into. He hadn’t fully taken over the room just yet, he hadn’t even slept there yet but Mr. Stark called it his room nonetheless.
Quickly changing into a pair of jeans and a hoodie, he left his suit behind before walking out into the hallway. The smell of Chinese food hit him after a few steps and he hurried down the hall, mouth watering at just the smell.
Eyeing his favorite Cashew Chicken, Peter grabbed the entire container before plopping down on the opposite end of the couch from Mr. Stark. The TV was on, playing some random game show Peter had never seen before. The volume was low enough, Peter knew Mr. Stark was about to start his integration.
Before even opening his mouth, Mr. Stark started with the questions.
“Want to tell me what that little episode really was?”
Buying some time, Peter shoveled a large piece of chicken into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before answering. “As I said, I heard a weird buzzing sound, it just kinda made me pause. It wasn’t even remotely as bad as the first time too.”
Realizing his error the second the words left his mouth, Peter grimaced.
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Stark started, eyes boring into Peter’s. “This happened before?”
“Uhhhh, yeah,” Peter mumbled. “I might have left out a small detail about my patrol last week. When I was stopping those guys at the office building, something happened. There was some kind of high frequency only spiders could hear and it kinda like disabled me for just a minute. It wasn’t bad, I swear, I hid on the ceiling the dudes just left without even trying to grab me.”
Peter was hedging his bets with not going with the full truth again, but it was worth the risk. Mr. Stark really didn’t need to know about the perforated eardrums. If he just went with casual, Mr. Stark might not freak out about the whole thing. He seemed to completely forget that Peter had accelerated healing that easily took care of most things.
Rolling his eyes, Mr. Stark let out an exhausted sounding sigh. “You seem to have magically left that part out when you first told me about that. What if they targeted you with the frequency on purpose? What if they had long lasting effects that we don’t know about yet? This, kid, is the kind of stuff you need to tell me.”
“I know, I just didn’t want you to worry,” Peter responded with a shrug. “I think it’s just a fluke you know? There’s no way they knew I’d be there that night.”
Looking as if he was about to fight Peter on the whole thing, Mr. Stark grabbed his food from the table. “You’re leaving the suit here so I can upgrade the sound dampening to also include any spiderkid level frequencies. And, if it happens again, no matter how minor in or out of the suit, you tell me immediately. Capiche?”
“Capiche,” Peter replied with a sigh. “How long are you gonna keep the suit?”
“Shouldn’t take more than a week, tops. I know you feel personally responsible for the whole of Queens but it’ll be okay for a few days.”
“Alright,” Peter said softly, trying not to look as sad as he was feeling at the moment. He knew logically that Mr. Stark was just trying to look out for him. He couldn’t fault the man for that. For all of his questions and concerns, he was trying to help Peter be the best he could be.
Going back to eating, they both sat in relative silence, the game show still low in the background. Peter finished off his Cashew Chicken and went in for the crab rangoon next.
“So, I might have had an alternative motive in inviting you over tonight.” Mr. Stark leaned over, putting his container back down on the table and shifting a little to face Peter.
“Oh?” Peter questioned, moving a little too, to mirror Mr. Stark’s position.
“Next Saturday is SI’s Wine and Dine event for our interns and scholarship winners. We invite the big wigs of the industry and such. It’s mostly a networking event, I give a stupid speech about our future, yadda, yadda, yadda. In any case, I’d like you to be my guest for the night.”
Momentarily left speechless, Peter made a small squeaking sound, he immediately regretted. Trying to play it off as a cough, Mr. Stark didn’t fall for it, letting out a chuckle.
“Oh uh,” Peter finally managed to get at least two words out, before finally finding the ability to speak in somewhat full sentences. “Um, really, that’s very nice of you Mr. Stark, but I’m really not an intern. I’m just a High School student. I don’t need to uh, network with anyone.”
“Kid, you’re one of the smartest people I know, period. You’re not just some intern or High Schooler. You know the second you turn 16, you’re getting an official internship. I made Pep talk the board into lowering the age for interns just for you.”
Blushing immediately, Peter looked away from Mr. Stark, feigning interest in one of the crab rangoon pieces. Hearing Mr. Stark saying those things, he was very honored but also feeling as if he didn’t deserve a lot of the praise. “Mr. Stark,” he said softly. “You can’t just do that, I have to earn it.”
“First of all, yes I can, I am the boss, and secondly, your web formula and shooters alone are incredibly impressive even for an adult, let alone a 13 year old to do on the side. That smart bandage you’ve been working on is more advanced than what most of the interns are doing right now. You’ve more than earned your spot here. If you really want, I’ll have you fill out the boring application, do the tedious essay and even make HR interview you.”
Snorting, Peter shoved a crab rangoon into his mouth, chewing and swallowing, mostly to give himself time to think.
Taking his silence as more resistance, Mr. Stark pressed on. “Come on, give me a chance to show you off a little. It’s never too early to think about your MIT application either. When you’re ready to get out into the world, everyone needs to know that you’re my protege.”
Mr. Stark had called himself a mentor a few times but he’d never really called Peter his protege, at least not in his presence. There was something about it that made his heart feel a little heavy. There was a lot of honor for someone like Tony Stark to call him his protege, but with that came a heck of a lot of pressure and not to mention, the public and their endless speculation. What if someone looked closely enough and saw a connection between Peter and Spider-man? How hard would it be for someone to connect the dots? Just as soon as Iron Man shows up to help a local hero, he suddenly is calling some random kid from Queens his protege.
“What if…,” Peter trailed gnawing on his lower lip. “They think that I’m like, you know.” He made a vague gesture pointing between the two of them.
“That you’re my actual kid?”
Nearly choking on the last bit of crab rangoon, Peter coughed, holding his hand out when Mr. Stark started to move towards him. He recovered quickly, shaking his head. “No, I meant like Spider-man. What if someone connects the dots and figures it out. Or like, try to look into my life and find something that shows I’m Spider-man.”
“I promise that won’t happen. Even if I have to hire someone to parade around in a Spider-man suit while you’re in the same room. I know how important your identity is to you and I’ll do whatever I can to keep it under wraps.”
“Uh, thanks um, Mr. Stark. This is all, just, kinda… a lot,” Peter stuttered out, but Mr. Stark laughed again, not in a mean way, he had a genuine smile on his face.
“Relax, Pete. If you really don’t want to, just say so. I’m not going to force you into anything, my parents did that to me enough as a kid. I just want the opportunity to show everyone just how much you’re going to change the world.”
Blushing, Peter put back the empty crab rangoon container, swapping it out for the one full of egg rolls. No matter how nervous this whole thing made him, there was no way he’d pass up this opportunity. “Uh, no, it’s okay. I can do it, I just, you know, get nervous talking to a lot of people.”
“I’ll do enough talking for the both of us, okay? Pep will be there too, you’re more than welcome to use the two of us as human shields.”
“Okay,” he said with not a whole lot of confidence but it seemed to appease Mr. Stark. “Um, what do I have to wear? I don’t have tons of suits that aren’t moth eaten or don’t fit right. How formal does it have to be?”
“Don’t you worry about that part one bit. Hap will come and pick you up in the morning and we’ll get ready here too. You can stay the night if you want, the gala is downstairs and despite being all nerds, it sometimes does go on a little late.”
“Oh no,” Peter blanched. “Mr. Stark, I can get my suit. May can take me to the uh,” he stuttered feeling embarrassed at having to say it but barreled through it anyway, “thrift store tomorrow.”
“Kid,” Mr. Stark gave him the same look he did back when Peter told him he couldn’t go to Germany because of homework. “It’s no big deal. Everyone needs a good suit for these types of things, I get you one and you’ll have it for a few years. I’ve already got your measurements for your Spidey suit, we’ll get you one that’s made just for you.”
The wealth gap between them was always an elephant in the room, at least to Peter. Mr. Stark never acted like Peter was below him, or wasn’t good enough to be around him. Without any hesitation he offered Peter things, rarely taking no for an answer. It was a weird feeling to Peter, knowing he wouldn’t have any of this, the expensive lab equipment, the idea of being Tony Stark’s protege, or any of the opportunities it brings if he hadn’t become Spider-man.
“Okay,” Peter answered, knowing that arguing with Mr. Stark about it was fruitless. Might as well accept what was going to happen. “Just, don’t like go all out, okay?”
“Of course not,” Mr. Stark answered, although the grin on his face telegraphed the man’s obvious lie. “Just a nice shirt, tie, suit jacket, pants, socks, and shoes.”
“That sounds like a lot, Mr. Stark.”
Chuckling, Mr. Stark gave him an all too fond smile. “You’re something else, Pete.”