Work Text:
“The things you make me do…” Roof, Minute
Roger Harrington had been teaching at Midtown High School of Science and Technology for a long, long time. He knew what he was doing, and had perfected the art of maintaining order in his classroom. So, when Peter Parker, problem-child extraordinaire, had finally snapped and socked one Eugene “Flash” Thompson in the face, Roger had no choice but to stick to school regulations. Parker was going to be facing detention and a parent-teacher conference at the very least, and at most a few days of in-school suspension.
Roger’s personal feelings on the matter had been that Thompson had deserved it, and should probably have known better than to insult Ned Leeds rather than Parker himself, but unfortunately, there were no exceptions in the school’s strict no-violence policy for punching asshats with more pride than brain cells. Pity. So, he spent the first half of his planning period mourning the fact that he was going to end up staying late on a Friday for the aforementioned parent-teacher conference.
The second half of his planning period was spent calling Peter’s guardian, May Parker. She answered after a few rings, confirmed that she would be able to make it, and hung up rather quickly. Roger sighed. She’d sounded half asleep, so he was a bit unsure that she’d actually be there.
A quick glance at Peter’s file confirmed that he did have another guardian listed, which Roger was a bit surprised at. Had Ms. Parker recently remarried? Peter hadn’t mentioned a new step-uncle, but the boy didn’t really talk about his home life at school. Not that Roger could blame him.
The appearance of a second guardian was odd, but the thing that really caught his attention was the name: Mr. Stark. He shook his head: he knew Peter had an internship at SI, but there was no way that this was actually the Tony Stark. Especially since he wasn’t listed as an emergency contact, but rather a secondary legal guardian.
Roger huffed at his own foolishness, before calling the second number listed. No answer: he left a voicemail detailing that Peter had been in some disciplinary trouble, and made sure to list the time and date of the planned conference.
Satisfied that he’d followed school regulations to the letter, he finished up his planning period by grading some papers, and didn’t think about Peter Parker again until the final class of the day.
---
Peter Parker was a dead man walking.
“Dude, I can’t believe you just did that,” Ned hissed to him. It was probably the thirtieth time he’d said that.
“I know, Ned. I really shouldn’t have.” Peter groaned. “I just didn’t get enough sleep last night, and he really, really pissed me off.” He thumped his forehead against the cool lunch table, silently wishing for a do-over of the day’s events, or at least a few hours in a pocket dimension so that he could take a goddamn nap.
“I mean, I really appreciate it,” Ned responded, his voice turning thoughtful. “But you didn’t have to, like, defend my honor or anything.”
Peter sighed at that. “It’s not that. I just- I’m okay with him talking shit about me.” Pete frowned, and re-phrased it. “I mean, I’m not okay with it, but I can deal with it. That’s the status-quo. He can talk shit about me, as long as he doesn’t start in on anyone else. I can handle some shit-talking.”
Ned nodded in understanding. “You’re definitely tough enough to handle him. His insults really suck, anyway. Those muggers from last night were more creative, and they didn’t even go to high school.”
It was at this point that MJ decided to grace them with her presence. “Education level is not indicative of intelligence level.” She slid into her seat gracefully, before cutting her gaze over to Peter. “What did Flash say, anyway? More dead parent jokes?”
Ned snapped, pointing at her. “See, that’s what I thought would eventually make Peter punch him, but no.” He shrugged. “It was just the usual; making fat jokes and calling me a nerd.”
MJ snorted. “This is literally a STEM school. We’re all nerds here. What does he think this is, a shitty Disney Channel movie?”
Peter huffed out a laugh. “There’s not enough musical numbers for that.” Just then, his phone buzzed: it was a text from May. He opened it, biting back a whine. Right, dead man walking. Or eating, whatever.
“I still can’t believe I did that. Mr. Harrington already called May. There’s a mandatory parent-teacher conference.” He scanned the message quickly, and almost choked on his sandwich. “Shit, she can’t make it. Oh, oh no.” He groaned. “I am so beyond dead.”
Ned frowned. “What? Why? Won’t they just have to reschedule?” Peter shook his head.
“So, you remember how I got really beaten up during the fight with the Vulture?” Ned and MJ nodded. “Well, May decided, in her infinite wisdom, that Mr. Stark should be listed as a second guardian for me, in case someone needs to make medical decisions for me and she can’t make it in time.”
MJ’s eyes twinkled in amusement, and Ned’s jaw dropped. “So Tony Stark is going to show up to your parent-teacher conference?”
“He and May have already worked it out,” Peter confirmed. “Pepper’s coming, too. May said something about wanting a ‘responsible adult’ present.”
“Dude,” Ned gushed. “Your life is so awesome.”
“Ned, they have a group chat,” Peter hissed. “That is like, the opposite of awesome. It’s lame, and I hate it.”
“The group chat or your life?”
“Both!”
---
“So, are you going to explain to me what happened?” Tony questioned. Apparently, he was thoroughly unimpressed with being called into a parent-teacher conference on a Friday afternoon. Peter couldn’t really blame him: it wasn’t his idea of a fun time, either.
“Well, you see, Mr. Stark, what had happened was-”
“Mm, nope, sorry kid. Try again, and with less memes this time.”
Peter huffed, but relented. “Flash was being a jerk. I was helping him be less of a jerk.”
“By, what, punching him in the face?” Tony grabbed his shoulder. “Pete, bambino, you know you can’t do that. What if you’d done some real damage?”
Peter kept his gaze on the ground. “I think I prefer you yelling at me when I screw up.” Tony let out a laugh at that.
“And I prefer when you were too star-struck by my presence to be a smart-ass, but here we are.” The older man slid his hands into his pockets, letting his posture relax a bit. “Kid, you’re better than this. I know it, you know it, hell, everyone in this school knows it. It takes a hell of a lot more than a few crappy insults to make you lose your temper. What happened?”
Peter’s eyes flicked up, travelling from Tony to Pepper and back, before settling on the ground again. “It’s been a bad week. Did- did May tell you?”
Pepper frowned. “Tell us what, honey?” And Peter had to bite back a few choice words. He really did not want to explain this.
“It’s almost Christmas.” He paused, took a deep breath, and just plunged through the rest of the explanation as best he could. “The anniversary of Ben’s death was last weekend. The anniversary of my parents’ plane crash is next week. No, no, please don’t, just let me finish.” Pepper had opened her mouth, as if to say something, but Peter didn’t think he could take any apologies or pity just yet. “It’s not an excuse, I know that. I’ve been out patrolling later than usual trying to deal with it. Being- doing something, helping people, it helps. It makes me not miss them as much, not feel as much. May knows that, so she’s been a bit lenient with my curfew recently.”
He paused long enough to take another deep breath before continuing. “And it helps, it really does, but it doesn’t take away the fact that I only have a few people left. Flash started in on Ned, and I know he’s not actually family, but he might as well be, and Ned just looked so hurt -”
“Oh, sweetheart.” This time, Pepper really did cut him off, pulling him into a firm, but gentle, hug. Peter tensed, feeling a wave of anguish crash through him, before relaxing into it. Tony stood off to the side, awkwardly, looking unsure of himself.
“Look, buddy, I get that it’s tough. Feelings suck, and actually dealing with them sucks more. But we need you to talk to us, okay? If you need time off, or more time with May, or me, or even Pepper, you need to tell us.” He pulled Peter into another hug as Pepper released him. “Punching people to help you deal with your feelings doesn’t really work. Believe me, kiddo, I’ve tried it.”
Peter was full-on sobbing now, albeit silently. He was definitely getting snot and tears all over Tony’s nice suit jacket, which just made him feel worse about the whole thing. This was way too much. He didn’t deserve this kind of comfort, especially not after punching Flash and dragging Tony and Pepper all the way out here, just because he couldn’t control himself.
Pepper wiped her own tears away, trying to keep her mascara from running, and sniffled delicately. Peter could have laughed if he weren’t already crying: only Pepper Potts could make sniffling look delicate.
“I’ll schedule you an appointment with a grief counselor for tomorrow, okay, honey?” She smiled at him warmly, her eyes full of love and reassurance.
“I don’t think I can- Ms. Potts, please-”
“Roo, stop,” Tony scolded, softly. “You clearly need the help, if you’re attacking defenseless bullies.”
Peter groaned and buried his face further into Tony’s shoulder. Tony knew he wouldn’t fight back, not when he used that nickname. “Okay.”
Tony gently petted his hair, a small smile softening his features. “Okay. I’ll drive you. Happy has tomorrow off. Honestly kid, the things you make me do.”
---
Roger Harrington did not get paid enough to have a parent-teacher conference with Tony freaking Stark and Pepper Potts.
Honestly, Roger Harrington did not get paid enough in general, but this was so far beyond his pay grade that it broke the scale. Completely shattered the glass ceiling, if you will.
Jim Morita’s voice cut through Roger’s internal monologue. “Alright, Mr. Stark, that’s the run-down of the situation. Typically, our policy is to give three days of in-school suspension for fighting in class, but given Mr. Thompson’s, er, provocation of Mr. Parker, and the fact that it’s a first-time offense, I think that a warning and this meeting should be sufficient enough of a punishment.” Ah, there it was. Principal Morita didn’t get paid enough to discipline Stark’s kid, either.
“And Mr. Thompson’s punishment?” Stark questioned, an eyebrow raised. Roger didn’t think he could have been any more intimidating, even if he’d had the weaponized suit on. Ms. Pott’s chilling presence behind him might have had something to do with it.
“He has been reprimanded as well, and his parents have been notified,” Morita allowed. “I cannot disclose any further details, but rest assured, his attitude will be dealt with. Our school takes bullying very seriously.”
“Of course.” Ms. Potts smiled sharply, and Roger had to suppress a shiver. Maybe it was time to consider his retirement options. He probably had enough savings to take a sabbatical, at least until Peter Parker graduated.