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The call comes in the middle of a meeting. Pepper immediately shoots me a glare, willing me not to answer it. I’ve been skipping a lot of meetings lately, so she has a right to be upset with me, but after seeing the caller ID, I can’t just ignore it.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” I announce to the room. Pepper clenches her jaw, annoyed, but doesn’t speak up.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon. Am I speaking to Mr. Stark?” The man on the other end asks.
“This is he…” I trail off, not knowing what to expect from this call, and also not liking the possibilities my mind has come up with.
“This is Jim Morita, I’m the principal of Midtown. I’m calling because Peter got into a fight at school today with another student.”
I take a deep breath at this, now knowing exactly what this must be about. I try not to growl my reply. “Let me guess. Eugene Thompson was the other student.”
“Yes, sir. I’m afraid so. Ms. Parker is currently unavailable to pick him up, so she told us to call you.”
“I’m on my way.”
~
Getting to the school doesn’t take too long. I speed most of the way there, needing to get to my kid.
Something tells me this won’t go very well.
I ignore the shocked looks from the others in the front office, instead focusing my attention on Mr. Morita. He greets me next to the receptionist desk at the front, taking me through to his office.
Peter and Flash are both sitting on separate chairs in front of the principal’s desk. Flash’s dad is already there, standing next to his sorry excuse of a son. Peter has his head down and is fidgeting with his hands in his lap. The kid tenses at my presence and doesn’t look up, keeping his gaze glued to the floor.
I send a dirty look to Flash and his dad before crouching down next to Peter. Subsequently, he turns his head away so I can’t see his face. “Hey, bud. Can you look at me?” He shakes his head. “Kid, I need to see what injuries you’ve got. Look at me, please.” I say, a bit more firm this time.
With a begrudging sigh, he complies.
There are a lot of things I expect to see on his face. A black eye, like Flash has, scattered bruises, and even some bleeding and cuts. What I don’t expect, however, is the word “Tranny,” written across my kid’s head in black, seemingly permanent, marker.
Fiery, indescribable rage rushes through my veins. I stare at the word as Peter stares at me. I try not to spontaneously combust with anger as Mr. Morita speaks up.
“I’m sure you must be upset, Mr. Stark, however-” he starts from his seat at his desk. I quickly interrupt.
“Oh, no. Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it. You think this is okay? How in the literal fuck did this even happen?” I ask, my voice threateningly low.
“According to surveillance footage, it seems that Peter fell asleep during class, and when their teacher stepped out, Flash wrote on Peter’s forehead. He woke up after Flash had finished and when he saw what was written, Peter punched him, and it escalated from there.”
“Okay …” I sigh, standing up and scrubbing a hand over my face trying to find the patience to process all this.
“Now, what Flash did was completely unacceptable and he will be suspended accordingly, however we also have a no-tolerance policy for violence here at Midtown, and Peter violated that policy by starting a fight, so he’ll have to be suspended as well.” I see Flash’s dad snickering from the corner of my eye, but I pay him no mind, my anger from before now increased ten-fold.
“I’m sorry- what?! There is no way in hell you will be punishing Peter for this! He wouldn’t have punched him if little Eugene over here knew how to be a decent human being! Peter shouldn’t have to deal with any consequences, and Eugene should be fucking expelled, do you understand me?”
“Penny gave Flash a black eye!” The idiot’s dad speaks up. “If my son gets suspended then so does she.”
Maybe it’s the deliberate misgendering and deadnaming, or maybe it’s the insistence that Peter should be punished—who am I kidding, it’s both—but his words prompt me to grab his shirt and hold it tightly.
“ His name is Peter, you fucking moron. ” I growl, my face just inches away from his. “Do that again and see what happens. Because I have an army of the best lawyers in the world that won’t hesitate to help me sue your ass until all you have left are the clothes on your back. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut your mouth.” I push him backwards as I let go, and he stumbles a bit as I turn to Mr. Morita.
“And as for you, if you want to suspend Peter, I’ll sue you for misconduct and negligence. So I’ll give you two options. You either get a lawyer and buckle up for the hell I’m about to subject you to, or you can write Peter a formal apology for allowing this to happen and suggesting that he be suspended and expel Eugene. Let me know when you decide.” And with that, I grab Peter’s arm—gently, of course—and walk out of there.
I keep an arm around Peter’s frame as we make our way towards the car. I can see him trying to cover his forehead, despite the lack of people around us. Still, I help him out by covering the area with my hand, resting my bicep over his shoulders. Peter doesn’t say a word. I don’t either, wanting to wait until we’re in the privacy and safety of the car before we talk about this.
“Thank you for standing up for me,” Peter says as I pull out of the parking lot.
I glance over at him with an incredulous look. “You don’t need to thank me for that, bud. That’s what parents do.” He smiles a little when I call myself his parent. We both know it’s true, even if we’re not actually related in any way. Not that I give a damn; I’m his dad in every way that counts.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask lightly, not wanting to pressure him.
He sighs, trying to scratch the ink off his head. I offhandedly move his hand away, knowing that scratching isn’t going to help. If anything it’ll just make his skin more irritated.
“Can we talk about it later? I’m just- I feel really drained right now.”
I agree. “Yeah, ‘course, kid.”
Having just spent the past hour with all my attention on the kid, I forget that I’d made Pepper upset when I walked out on the meeting, not having told her what was happening. So it’s only fair that she greets me with a yell as soon as the elevator doors open to the penthouse.
“Tony, you better have one hell of an explanation for me!” she yells as she walks towards us, not yet having seen Peter who’s standing behind me. “I swear to god, you- Peter?” she frowns once she finally spots the boy. He’s once again, covering his forehead as blood rushes to his cheeks.
“What happened?” She looks back and forth between me and the kid. “Why aren’t you in school honey?” Advancing towards him, she carefully removes the hand from his face to which he puts up little resistance. She gasps at the marker staining his head, and I can see Peter chewing at his lips like a dog would a bone, anxiety radiating off his figure. I place a hand between his shoulder blades, allowing him to lean into my side as Pepper turns to me with a horror-stricken expression.
“The principal already knows that I’ll be suing him if Flash doesn’t get expelled for this.”
Pepper sighs as she runs a hand through Peter’s hair. She presses a kiss to his temple. “I’m gonna call the lawyers. And try rubbing alcohol for the marker. That should get it off.”
“Thanks, Pepper,” Peter croaks out in a small voice.
~
“Looks like it’s working,” I point out, slowly swiping away the marker using an alcohol wipe. He nods, giving me a weak smile.
It takes a little while to get the rest of the marker off, but I manage it eventually. “All done, buddy.” I toss the dirtied washcloth on his desk and lean forward to plant a kiss on his now clean forehead.
“Cool.” The boy’s tone is numb, as if he’s pushed his emotions deep down to where he can no longer hear them. I can’t have that. I used to do the same—I’m now 2 years sober.
“Do you feel okay to talk about this now? We need to have this conversation at some point, kid.”
He shrugs. “There’s nothing to talk about, really. Morita already told you everything.”
I give him an unimpressed look. “You know that’s not what I mean. We need to talk about what’s going through that brain of yours. Bottling it in isn’t doing you any favors.”
He sighs, resigned to the fact that he can’t get out of this.“I just- I feel so humiliated.” he starts. I don’t point out the way his voice cracks, focusing on giving him my undivided attention. “The whole school pretty much already knows I’m trans. And like, it’s not that I’m ashamed of being trans, but I don’t need it being advertised in front of all my classmates. And I just got so mad, and punched him, and- yeah.” A pause. “I don’t get why he keeps targeting me. I’m not hurting anyone!” he states, visibly getting worked up. I have him take a few deep breaths, not wanting him to have a panic attack. Once he’s calmed down, he slumps down into his desk chair, flopping his head down on my shoulder from where I’m kneeling on the ground. Fondly, I card a hand through his curls.
“Maybe he's right. Maybe I’m just the worthless animal he thinks I am.” I start shaking my head before he can even finish his sentence.
“No. I don’t want to ever hear you call yourself that again. You understand me?” I pull him off me, placing my hands on his shoulders, ducking my head down to meet his gaze. He complies reluctantly as I continue. “You are not worthless and you are not an animal. You are an amazing person, trans or not. You being trans isn’t a bad thing and it doesn’t negate any of the good things about you. I promise you, you're worth so much more than words can describe. Know your worth, alright?”
“Thanks,” he says, sniffling. I pull him back into my embrace for a few more moments, rubbing his back as he sniffles a few times. I cradle his face upon seeing the residual tears on his cheeks after he pulls away, wiping away the wetness with my thumbs.
“Nothing to thank me for, bud,” I assure him, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek to emphasize my point. “Now, what d’ya say we order some Thai and build some legos, huh? I just got the newest millennium falcon set that’s got our names written on it.”
He smiles shyly. “Larb?”
I grin and ruffle his soft curls. There he is—there’s my boy. “You got it, kid.”