Chapter Text
There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the day that Peter Parker’s life changed.
Well, for the second time.
His first big life change was being bitten by a radioactive spider.
The second was when he became famous.
Peter had woken up with plenty of time for school, a nice change from the previous day’s missed alarm and subsequently manic rush. He’d had breakfast with May – cereal and toast, like always - and then gotten changed and out the door without issue. He’d taken his usual train to school, and met Ned at their regular spot in front of the building. They walked together to their first class and sat in their customary seats at the front right of the room.
It was, by all accounts, a normal day in the life of Peter Parker, Midtown student.
And then it wasn’t.
A school aide knocked on the door of Peter’s fourth period class.
“Excuse me, Sir, is Peter Parker here? He’s been asked to report to the Principal’s office.”
The teacher, who saw no good reason why a student ought to be excused from learning about the intricacies of class warfare in Marxist theory, acknowledged the aide with a wave of his hand.
“Hurry back, Mr. Parker. This will be on the exam.”
Groaning internally, Peter got up from his chair. Knowing Mr. Johnston, he’d put a question on this topic specifically because one of the students missed it. And it’d be a hard question too. It wasn’t that the man hated Peter; he just wanted to demonstrate that every single lesson was an important one.
I’ll have to get notes off MJ later, he reminded himself. He shared this class with a few friends, including both Ned and MJ. Although it’d be easier to get notes off Ned, he trusted MJ’s comprehension of class struggles and socio-economic theory far more than Ned’s. His best friend was a brilliant programmer, but he did occasionally struggle to pick up on the more sophisticated aspects of the human condition.
Peter trudged through the deserted school hallways, wondering why on Earth he’d been called into the Principal’s office. After his class’ disaster of a field trip to Stark Tower, he’d been called in almost daily to check in with Morita, lest Pepper’s lawyers decide that the school’s diligence was overdue.
But that was months ago now, and he’d not spoken with Principal Morita in weeks and weeks.
Certainly, things had changed for him after that fateful day. His relationship with Tony Stark had become public knowledge amongst his classmates, even if they were legally repressed from telling anyone else: Pepper Potts and her lawyers had seen to that. Even if they weren't allowed to talk about, Peter's peers did seem to notice him a lot more now that they had before. He’d been invited to loads of parties, for one thing. His social calendar had never been more full.
Ned, who was now popular by proxy, was loving it.
Another change was that Flash had stopped bullying him - for the most part. There was still some prodding about “fainting like a baby”: even a sternly worded letter from Pepper’s lawyers couldn't stop him. Overall though, Flash had stopped calling him a liar and Peter considered that to be progress.
A few brave souls from his class had even asked him about Tony directly.
“How did you get to know him?” Cindy had asked. “Like, obviously you’re super smart. How did you get the chance to show him how good you are? It's not like you can tell from looking at you."
Peter took that particularly backhanded compliment at face value. Obviously unable to tell the truth, he had muttered something about a competition that he had entered.
Others had asked more general questions about his internship and about what it was like to work with Tony, which he answered with a lot more detail. More still asked for introductions to high-profile Stark Industries employees, which the boy always awkwardly denied.
Aside from his recent rise in popularity, on the whole, life had gone back to normal pretty quickly.
Peter’s ruminations came to an end as he stopped in the school’s administration office. Principal Morita’s personal office door was closed, although Peter could vaguely hear his voice emanating from within. Even with enhanced hearing, the man was speaking too softly to comprehend his words.
“Can I help you?” the school receptionist addressed him. “You shouldn’t be out of class.” Her words were gentle, but her tone was clear: I will not deal with any bullshit. May had a tone of voice just like it.
When he identified himself as Peter Parker, the receptionist relaxed and gave him a warm smile. Gesturing to a bench against the wall, she said, “Have a seat, Peter, and I’ll let the Principal know you’re here.”
He perched on the bench as directed. It was the kind of uncomfortable seat that one found in old-school sports stadiums, or cheap dentist offices. Peter mused that the seats outside the Principal’s office were purposefully uncomfortable as a sort of pre-emptive punishment for troublemaking students.
Fortunately, his rear end didn’t have to suffer for too long. The door swung open and Principal Morita beckoned Peter into the room.
Finally, let’s get this over with.
He was ready for another checkup to discuss Midtown School’s Affirmative Action in the wake of the school-trip-from-hell.
Hell, he was ready to answer for ‘accidentally’ tripping one of Flash’s cronies in the quad, the previous week.
Peter Parker was not ready to see Tony Stark sitting in his Principal’s office. Again.
He paused as he crossed the threshold, eyes narrowed. “What fresh hell is this?”
Tony, wearing his customary coloured glasses inside, flashed him a brilliant smile. “Hey there, Pete. Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat.” He gestured to the seat beside him, perpendicular to the Principal’s desk.
Mr. Stark look as relaxed as Peter had ever seen him. He was slouched back against back of the chair, one ankle pulled over the opposite knee. The AC/DC t-shirt under his blazer was marked with the ubiquitous engine oil, and illustrated the fact that this man was rich enough that he could wear whatever he damn well wanted. His right hand cradled a glass of water the same way Peter had seen him hold crystal goblets of the most expensive amber liquid.
In fact, he looked more relaxed than Peter had seem in months, and that in itself was suspicious.
He’s putting on an act, the boy realised, just like during the field trip. He’s pretending to be the person that people expect him to be.
Peter felt a pang of sorrow that his mentor felt as though he couldn’t be his authentic self. It was only with his closest companions that Tony Stark was able to enjoy himself without the judgement of others who expected him to behave in a certain manner. The boy had often noticed how much happier his mentor seemed to be within the confines of his personal floors in Stark Tower, as opposed to being in public.
This is the cost of being famous, Peter supposed.
He started paying attention when he realised that his mentor was addressing him.
“I was just explaining to Jim here that you’ll be taking a few days off of school.”
“You’re what?” Peter asked, as Principal Morita said, "Excuse me?"
"I’ll need Peter to focus on some research and development work in the upcoming week. I appreciate that it’s inconvenient for you and your staff, but unfortunately his absence is unavoidable.” Tony's words were monotonous, his body language nonchalant. It was as though this happened every day.
The Principal blinked twice, and then leaned back into his chair. The man looked almost like a Bond villain, sans fluffy white cat.
Peter was confused. He’s signing me out of school to do lab work?
It made no sense at all. Tony was a huge proponent of Peter’s school attendance: he himself had been overwhelmed by starting MIT at sixteen, and he had always said that he wanted Peter to continue to be a regular teenager. He even made Happy drop him off at the school premises after long nights of Spider-Manning.
It made absolutely no sense for him to take Peter out of school now.
Principal Morita seemed to agree. “I want to make sure I understand you correctly, Mr. Stark. This is almost unheard of. You want to take Mr. Parker out of school for two days? Three days?”
Tony shrugged. “A week, or two. We’ll have to let you know on that front.”
Two weeks?
There was no way in hell that May would let him miss school for a whole week, let alone two. And besides, he had a chemistry test. And a Spanish exam! Peter started to raise this point, but was silenced by a wave of Tony’s hand.
“Bu- but you can’t just take him out of school for a week!” Morita spluttered. “He’s a student! He needs to be in school!”
Tony drained the last of his drink and levelled his gaze at the educator. “Do you really think you can teach him more than I can?”
Principal Morita’s mouth opened and closed as though gasping for air, but he said nothing. It was clear that he wanted to say something: Peter guessed that he didn’t have the nerve to offend Mr. Stark. He suspected that the lawyers and their cries for affirmative action might have had something to do with it.
“Mr. Stark, I am aware of the… educational value of Peter’s internship.” Morita drew in a deep breath before speaking. “However, the fact remains that Peter is a minor, and he belongs in school. The state laws don’t allow for… for educational ventures like yours.”
It was clear that he was trying to be diplomatic and choose his words carefully, but the long pauses before referencing the internship spoke volumes. Peter noticed them clearly.
“Now, see, I was under the impression that students are only obligated to attend school full time up until the age of sixteen. I would’ve thought that an… educator like yourself would know that.” Tony maintained a jovial tone, but clearly mimicked the hesitations.
I guess he noticed it too.
Defeated, Morita shrank back from the desk. “He can only be signed out by his legal guardian,” he protested weakly. They all knew it was a flimsy objection.
“Or by his nominated emergency contact, I suppose?” Tony returned.
The Principal sighed, and agreed. “He can be signed out by his emergency contact,” he confirmed.
Tony sat up straight in his chair and smiled directly at the man. It was a cold smile, the kind that he used when dealing with his board of directors.
“Well then, it’s a good thing that May Parker signed all those forms making me his emergency contact.” The smiled stayed, but his tone of voice dropped dangerously.
The implication was clear: you will let me walk out of here with this kid. Or else.
“If you’ve no further objections, Peter and I really must be going now.”
Again, Morita looked as though he were going protest further, but chose not to. Instead, he gestured vaguely at the door. Tony took that as permission – not that he’d ever waited for permission before – and pulled himself to his feet. Placing the cheap glass onto the Principal’s polished oak desk – just an inch to the right of an empty coaster – Tony turned on his heel and strode out of the office, grabbing Peter’s arm as he went.
“Mr. Stark, what-?”
Tony cut him off with a look that told him to wait, but let go of his arm. The boy trailed along dutifully, following his mentor through the office. The receptionist watched them leave, but didn’t say a word.
What was going on? Is there an emergency? A mission?
Does he need Spider-Man?
The questions spilled out as soon as the school administration office door closed behind them.
“Tony, what is going on?”
He got no response.
Maybe it’s another overseas mission, like Germany?
Two weeks was a really long time for the sort of work that Spider-Man usually did: bank robberies and carjackings usually only took a few minutes. This mission would have to be somewhere quite far away.
Tony was moving at such a speed that they’d already reached the end of the corridor. Ahead of them: freedom.
Happy met them outside the main door to the school, at the base of the entrance stairs. Peter couldn’t help but notice that Tony lurked just inside the building until he made eye contact with his bodyguard, who nodded at him discreetly. He then moved down the stairs so quickly that Peter had to check that he wasn’t wearing thrusters.
This has to be a mission. An emergency mission!
“Happy’s here too?”
Tony gave a non-committal grunt as he pushed the boy in front of him and into the waiting car. His head was swivelling left and right the entire time, as though expecting someone to attack them from behind.
A shiver ran down Peter’s back. It wasn’t his Spidey-sense – that felt completely different. He couldn’t perceive any danger at all, but something about the way Tony was behaving set him on edge.
He ducked into the car and slid across the backseat, leaving space for Tony to climb in after him. Happy pulled away from the curb a fraction of a second after the last door had been shut.
Clearly, something big had happened. Something bad. Tony never rushed anywhere; it ruined his presence, apparently.
“Tony, what the fuck is going on?” In the front seat, Happy cringed at the anger in the boy’s voice. His frustration at being cut off and ignored had grown, and he was fast approaching his breaking point.
But there was no point upsetting anyone. Peter took a deep breath and tried again. “Is there an emergency? A mission?” This time, his voice conveyed the fear he felt. The boy knew that something bad was happening; he just didn’t know what it was. And his imagination was running wild. “Is... is Aunt May alright?”
If anything has happened to her...
Next to him, Tony sighed and removed his glasses. “Your aunt’s fine, kid. We just have a little... situation.”
“WHAT KIND OF SITUATION?” The frustration was back, and this time he didn’t even try to swallow it down.
“Pete, calm down.” Tony looked him dead in the eyes. “May is fine, I’m fine. Even Ted is fine -”
“Ned.”
“Yes, even Ned is fine.” He inhaled sharply. “We have a problem that we need to solve, and that problem precludes you from going to school until we’ve dealt with the backlash.”
“Backlash...” Peter repeated slowly. “Like, after Sokovia?”
Tony winced at the reminder of what was, arguably, one of his greatest failures. “No, not like Sokovia.” He hesitated, and then said, “Well, maybe kind of like Sokovia. In a sense.”
At Peter’s aggrieved expression, he added, “No, no it’s not a mission. No missions for you for the forseeable, Spider-Baby.”
“What!? Why!?”
Tony fidgeted for a second before he sighed, and admitted, “People have found out about you, kid.”
Peter blinked.
Found out about me?
“I wasn’t aware that I was a secret,” he deadpanned. The car jerked a little as Happy stifled a snicker.
“No, I mean...” Tony trailed off, searching for the right words. “We’ve been approached by a reporter about you, Pete. About you, and about our relationship. They’ve given us 24 hours to respond with a comment, or they’ll run the story.”
“What do you mean, ‘our relationship’?” asked Peter, dumbfounded. “I’m your intern. How is that newsworthy?”
“You’re the youngest employee that Stark Industries has ever had, or likely ever will have, kid. You remember how your teacher didn’t believe you when you told him you were an intern?” Peter gave him A Look confirming that he did, in fact, remember what it felt like to be called a liar by his favourite teacher. “It’ll be like that, but on a much larger scale.”
“Can’t we just, like, ignore it?” It may have been his optimistic nature shining through, but Peter couldn't really see why this needed 'handling'. After all, Tony and Stark Industries were both household names.
Tony shrugged non-commitally. “That’s what we need to sort out now. We have to figure out how we’re going to handle this, before you go back to school.”
How does a newspaper article mean that I can’t go to school?
“I don’t understand,” he said, sliding in his seat as Happy took evasive action to avoid colliding with a cabbie. “There are articles published about you almost every day. Why does an article about having an intern even matter?”
Tony bit his lip, but didn’t answer immediately.
There’s more that he’s not telling me.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and yelling wasn’t getting him anywhere. Peter did his best impression of a kicked puppy dog and turned on his mentor with wide eyes. Willing his lower lip to tremble ever-so-slightly, he tried to make himself look as scared as possible.
“What is it?” he asked in his softest, quietest voice.
Tony closed his eyes and laid his head back against the headrest. After a moment of apparent deliberation, he straightened and reengaged eye contact with the boy.
“Pete, the article...Well, it isn’t about you as my intern,” said Tony, gently. “It’s about you as... my son.”
Peter froze.
As his son?
It was true that Tony had outright told the boy that he loved him, but he’d never actually said the words “you are like a son to me.” Peter had thought that part was inferred, but maybe he was wrong.
He looked up at his mentor; at the man he considered to be like a father to him.
Judging from Tony’s frantic behaviour and sour expression, he was definitely wrong.
He doesn’t see me as a son.
Well, shit.
Maybe he meant that he loves me as a friend? The way he loves Colonel Rhodes? Or, like, in a weird, love-thy-neighbour kind of way?
No wonder Mr. Stark was freaking out right now.
Oh god, this is so awkward!
He looked up at Tony, determined not to start crying. The man that he saw as a father figure clearly didn’t see him as a son, and Peter was so not equipped to deal with this situation right now.
The man had turned away from Peter and slid his coloured glasses back over his eyes, and was tapping away at his phone. It was a relief not to have the man’s attention on him for a moment as he figured out how to deal with this latest development in the Saga that is Peter Parker’s life.