Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Mr. Stark, if you would just let me explai-“

“Pete, everything that needed to, has already been said,” Tony Stark, multi billionaire and Avenger, cut in. But Peter Parker, the eighteen-year-old high-school student, yet already an Avenger himself, didn’t give him any room to breathe, “Please don’t leave me here, I’ll make it up to you– to all of you, I promise. I just, ehm, you know, I could-”

The man across from Peter let out an exasperated sigh, “Stop it, Underoos. You made a mistake and now you’ll have to suffer the consequences. It’s that simple.”

“I didn't mean to, you know, ruin the mission. My mind just slipped for a second, that’s all!” he tried to save face, but his mind roared and his limbs were sore, no adrenaline to keep the pain away. Brown eyes met their counterpart, shimmering more than they should have beneath the low-hanging ceiling light of Peter’s bedroom. Not intentionally, as if he were to make puppy eyes, but because light tears coated the surface of his corneas.

“That’s the point, kiddo. Your mind’s who-knows-where. You need to take a breather, which means I am gonna put you on a mandatory time-out. No more Avengers’ business for a month. I’m serious, that includes not only missions, but labtime all the same. You need a break, so no more robots, no more adjustments to your suit, none of it. Go build some Legos with that Ted guy,” Mr. Stark said determinedly, sounding absolutely final in his decision.

“His name is Ned,” Peter was about to clarify, yet immediately interrupted by a stern man who didn’t seem to be finished, “Because everyone has to stay behind in Italy to resolve the mess you have caused, including me technically, so I will have to get to the airport shortly, I will withdraw your access from the Tower as a safety measure. Until I am back or change it myself, your clearance level is set to one, visitor pass, so that you may follow Happy or whoever else if necessary for whatever reason. And don’t expect to hear from me anytime soon, the thing in Italy is a big one.”

This time the teen had no words left for his mentor, barely able to maintain eye-contact while shell-shocked in place. Breathe, Peter. He thought and managed to let out a slight huff that helped cool him down, even if only barely.

Finally regaining composure, he realized that Tony was already turned the other way, about to step into his Iron Man gear. Out of desperation he pleaded, “Don’t do this to me, don’t leave me on my own. I thought you liked me.” His breaking point had been reached and now tears made their way from Peter’s eye, across his cheekbones, dropping from his chin, and finally puddling on the carpet floor.

The atmosphere changed immediately. From something akin to a father scolding his son, to something that felt more real. Still like father and son, but more broken. Their make-shift family had their ups and downs, but had always skedaddled around the topic of feelings. A fine line that ultimately had to meet its end.

The two of them stood there for a while. Even the turbulent personality of the arguably richest man in the world went silent. Although, with Anthony Edward Stark in the room it was safe to say that this lack of noise couldn’t last forever.

Tony made up his mind and turned his head over his shoulder, directly meeting Peter’s gaze, “I made this decision exactly for that reason. You are very dear to me, Peter,” He never called him by his name, “I hope that you’ll understand, even if only when you are an adult yourself. Say goodbye to Aunt May for me, bye kid.”

And with that, Peter Benjamin Parker, was left alone in his room, not moving an inch. Normally, his spidey-senses would be kicking off, the window was left open and an uncomfortable chillness filled the air. The lights of New York shined bright that night and not a small amount of noise echoed from the streets. Yet Peter felt none of it, internalizing what Mr. Stark’s words had truly meant. The only thing left for him were the sound of the never-ending sobbs which carried the disheartened boy to sleep.

————————————————

Twelve days had passed since that night. The guilt still very present in Peter’s head. Tony had held true to his word.

The back doors of the Avengers Tower wouldn’t budge and with none of the employees knowing him and his clearance at level one, there was no way of entry for the secret superhero. Now, even Happy was gone.

At first, Peter felt too ashamed to contact anyone, but on day four he had mustered the courage to text a few of his friends. Of course no one responded, nothing from Tony or the other Avengers, save for Happy Hogan.

While they would never admit anything of the sort, especially not to each other, they trusted the other in a way only family could. An outsider would never see it, their interactions and text messages seemed cold, rigid, and just plain business-related, but in their own weird way their exchanges were something neither could live without anymore. They knew deep down, and that was all that mattered.

But due to the situation in Italy still not relenting, Happy had to leave New York for a Starks Industry compound in Canada. Isn’t Wade from there, but who knows where that dork is playing around these days, definitely not Canada. Even he won’t answer any of my texts. Rude! 

(And also, completely out of character, seriously, where is he?)

Pepper should have been there, but currently she was traveling through different countries in east Asia, trying to strike international deals with Stark Industries. In conclusion, she was also unavailable.

Sometimes, Peter tried to climb up the Tower and pop in through a window, but Tony had thought of that as well and FRIDAY automatically closed all windows in his direct vicinity. That was another thing, FRIDAY, Tony’s AI and on any other day a great assistant to Peter, wouldn’t listen to any of his commands. On top of that, his overwriting privileges had been stripped, so there was truly no way in.

Alas, there was still his Spider-Man-linked AI, Karen, and his suit of course. During their time spent together Tony had learned, there was no possibility to take Spider-Man away from Peter. They were one and the same, and even without the suit, Peter would continue to be him. The Vulture incident being a prime example for that sentiment. So everyday, Peter/Spider-Man would go on patrol, twice as long as he used to before.

Though May was worried sick about her nephew, she didn’t say a thing, well aware of the grievances he was carrying with him. Everything Avengers related was Peter's emotional outlet, so while labtime was called off, Peter sought refuge in Spider-Man’s day-to-day ordeals.

Then there was school. Something Peter should excel in, but even that was not completely possible anymore. His teachers caught on immediately, now that Peter was slacking in class, even though his attendance was immaculate, which no one would have believed twelve days ago. The other students discerned that too, but no one had the guts to say anything. Everyone was aware of his family situation, a troubling topic to approach, as it was everyone’s guess his mood was related to that.

To Peter’s surprise, even Flash Thompson cut down on his bullying, granted he still called him “Penis Parker” everytime.

What originally could have been another place of escape, was quickly made the opposite, but there was no way Peter could tell them that he wanted them to bother him, to make fun of him, to be strict with him. All he wished for, was normality.

On the flip-side, Ned and MJ were there for him. They knew him, were wise enough to act as if nothing happened and continue with all the usual shenanigans. 

————————————————

It seemed that was not all the universe had in store for him, thanks to ParkerLuck™ .

It was Monday, five minutes before his chemistry period would conclude, when Peter's favorite (today maybe not so favorite) teacher Mr. Harrington announced with a giddy undertone to his voice to the class, "Everyone, I got a big surprise for you."

Some heads turned, the majority still fixated on their own work, paying their teacher no mind. Peter, on the other hand, listened carefully. He knew when even Mr. Harrington was excited, there'd be merit in trusting his word.

"Guys, seriously! I'm just gonna say it. We are going to visit Stark Industries," the class fell silent immediately, but that only lasted for about three seconds, before screams erupted from every corner. Ned couldn’t help himself and was jumping up and down on his chair. Even MJ had a barely noticeable smirk plastered on her face. Then there was Peter Parker, not moving an inch and saying not a single word. A state of being that had happened quite a lot in the last 12 days.

"This is gonna suck," he quietly groaned, then was immediately overshadowed by the voice of Flash Thompson, “Ey, Penis Parker, don’t you have your fake internship there?” he snickered to himself, a few of his classmates joining in.

“Don’t bother with him, he’s just a jerk who got nothing to show for himself except his daddy’s money,” Ned tried to console him and MJ let out a huff in agreement. In Peter’s eyes, they were both saints, but there were no words that could lighten his mood in this predicament, “Ahhh, I’m so excited, Peter! Omg, do you think we’ll be able to see the Avengers? I wanna meet Dr. Bruce so badly,” he voiced in pure elation, making it more painful to end his fun, “I told you, they’re all in Italy. The place is gonna be dead, but honestly, what would I know, I can’t even enter the Tower…”

Just as Peter realized what that would entail, his train of thought was interrupted by a forced cough from his teacher, “As I was saying, Stark Industries is, as you all know, one of the biggest companies world-wide. Therefore, everyone will have to sign an NDA, as well a permission slip which I will now hand out. The trip’s this friday, both forms have to submitted till Wednesday, or else you won’t be able to participate,” he paused for a moment to let that sink in, before continuing, “Of course, there a few ground rules, all listed in great detail on your permission slips, but to sum them up: No bullying, No walking off, Always listen to the tour guide and your teacher. Remember, you will be representing Midtown High School, so be on your best behavior.” 

With the sound of the bell the period had ended and everyone was leaving with their forms and an ecstatic smile on their faces, save for Peter. This caught the attention of Mr. Harrington, “Peter, could we talk for a second?,” Ned held Peter’s look, but was quickly dismissed by a faint smile, “Sure thing, sir,” he answered as he turned around while trying to maintain that feigned facial expression.

“You know, I’ve seen that you have been down lately, so I had hoped this trip would cheer you up a bit. Seems that hope was misplaced. Do you wanna tell me what's going on?”, a question so simple but with so many implications. All Peter could do was keep his mouth shut, the smile waivered.

“Does it have anything to do with your internship there? I think if you would just come clean to everyone, everything will be much easier on friday,” at this Peter’s expression changed from distraught to disappointed. Even Mr. Harrington thinks I’m lying, that came a bit unexpected. “Sir, no, I mean, what I’m trying to say is that the internship is real. I am not lying.”, he tried to explain himself but his teacher didn’t seem pleased.

“Peter,” he sighed, “I don’t want to ruin your fantasy, but please spare all of us and keep the internship talk to yourself, at least on friday. This would be in your best interest as well. While I don’t know the ins and outs, I can imagine that faking an internship at Starks Industries can lead to a heavy law-suit. Have we come to an agreement?”

Peter wanted to protest, he really wanted to, but there was no way to prove anything to his teacher. There was documentation in his files, but he supposed, if even Mr. Harrington thought he was lying, then the school must have thought it to be fake. Furthermore, there would be no way to object to such claims, as Tony and Pepper, whose numbers were the only ones listed on documents, would not be able to be reached at this moment. Additionally, he had never gone through the front entrance. There was no staff at the reception or security at the gates at this point in time who could vouch for him.

So he just answered with a nod.

————————————————

Friday came around faster than Peter had anticipated. The three and a half days left after class on monday were spent trying to ignore Flash’s remarks of him faking his internship or on patrole drowning out every emotion by keeping himself busy.

When he woke up at five-twenty in the morning, barely having caught 2 hours of sleep, his head was aching. His body felt hot and it was as if he could hear every sensation on his body. From the sweat drops rolling off his temples to the rippling of the fabric of his pajamas when he moved. He was about to roll out of bed, planning to take a shower, when all of the sudden his phone made a sound, a voice that said “Chimichangas” to be exact. But this notification sound only plays when…

Wade Wilson: Hey Baby Boy, sorry but I got a huge gig here. Don’t know how long it’ll take tho, so I’ll be off for a while. Love ya hunny buns, bye <3

The faint sliver of joy was crushed down to nothing.

Peter Parker: Wish you the best of luck, don’t kill anyone. Love you too Wade <3

[! The message failed to send.]

And that’s that, I guess.

He rid himself of his clothes and hopped in the shower. On any other day a shower would have taken him maybe three to five minutes, maybe eight if he was a bit dosy, but today he couldn’t bring himself to get out. For 20 minutes he did nothing but sit on the floor. The steady noise of the water stream, as if he were in a rainforest, the darkness of the morning, only slightly at bay due to the sunrays of the dawning sun, and the chaotic movement of water droplets, that seemed yet so in order and harmony as a whole, gave Peter finally the time for himself that he needed. To breathe, to think, to rejuvenate (if only slightly).

Another 15 minutes were spent properly cleaning himself, drying himself off and finally putting some clothes on.

When he entered the kitchen the smell of fresh pancakes and hot cocoa filled the air. May had an early shift, but she was informed of today's predicament for her nephew, she had had to sign the permission slip. So she took the liberty of making him breakfast. Peter truly loved her. He smiled, sincerely this time.

Before sitting down, he had started the coffee machine. While May had never indulged Peter in his caffeine addiction and had always tried to get him to drink something else, she herself drank at least two cups of strong Americanos each day. Hypocrite.

After enjoying his breakfast thoroughly he brushed his teeth, grabbed his backpack and headed out. Quickly glancing at his wristwatch, it was… 7:15?? HUH??

Somewhere down the line he must have miscalculated because he knew he came out of the bathroom at around six. Or… SHIT, it was actually seven!

With normal walking speed it took about 40 minutes to school. Most days Happy drove Peter there, but since he wasn’t in New York at the moment, he had woken up earlier the last few days to arrive in time. School started at 7:30 SO I GOT ONLY 15 MINUTES? FUCK!

Peter ran, but even Spider-Man had only so much stamina so he arrived at 7:39, obviously too late, but just in time, as the bus was scheduled to leave the premises of Midtown at 7:40. With a reprimanding look, but also a silent sigh of relief, his teacher let Peter enter the bus filled with his jovial classmates. You could see their anticipation across their faces. As soon as Flash clocked Peter, a smirk replaced that expression, “Thought you wouldn’t come, Penis. I get it, you don’t wanna get exposed. But lying is naughty behavior, Parker, so now you’ll have to suffer the consequences. It’s that simple .”

Hearing the exact same words Tony said to him 16 days ago was interesting to say the least. Not only was it Flash who used the exact same phrasing as his mentor (nope, not revolting at all) , no, it was also words said in a moment of great distraught in Peter’s life.

There he stood, not moving an inch (GOD, does everything going haywire in his life have to repeat itself).

That did not help his image whatsoever.

“Well it makes sense, SI doesn’t hire highschoolers,” someone said, however, before Peter could try to discern their identity, another voice rang in his ears, “It always sounded a little fishy to me as well.”

And then another, “Peter’s smart, but not SI-smart.”

And then another, “Peter, would you sit down, please, so that we can get moving?”

Huh? Oh wait, that’s Mr. Harrington, “Ehh, er-“ he gulped, “yes sir, of course.”

People laughed, but Peter tried to ignore them as he said down next to Ned and across MJ, who sat alone on her two-seater. Bless the Spider-God that they chose seats at the far end, away from the others who wanted to see the building as soon as possible, trying to score a seat close to the front windshields. He loved that about his class, they were nerds just like him, but today he just couldn’t manage to care.

Focused on his friends once again, he saw that Ned made a pitying grimace, but was a little startled when he realized that even MJ had a drop of pity mixed into her usual vibe of “I don’t give a fuck.” Comone guys, stop it. He internally groaned.

For real? MJ doesn’t even have her sketchbook out to draw my face. Surely, my face exudes more displeasure than all of the previous expressions she drew in the past combined. Fuck, just stop it with the pity party.

At least the ride itself was somewhat comforting. MJ kept mostly to herself while Peter and Ned talked about the next Lego set they were going to build (Curse Tony and him always being right) .

But Peter knew his friend. Ned was so excited to visit SI. Peter wanted to bring him once, but a Spider-Man situation came in between. So the fact that Ned was not speaking a word about said company and their field trip there meant he forced himself to say nothing so as not to distress Peter.

“Ned,” Peter said scoldingly, “Yes, Peter?”

“Spill it, I mean seriously, talk about SI. You’ve been wanting to visit since forever and even with the Avengers not being there, I am one hundred percent certain that you got a lot to say. Just talk, really, man!” Ned looked him up and down before erupting into gleeful squeaking. From there he went on about the science labs, Avenergs equipment, etc. 

To be fair, Peter found what Ned was talking about pretty interesting, too. He spent all of his time in Tony’s or his personal lab, never once had he gone elsewhere. Tony told him he had all access to the Tower (stress on “had”), but when working on Avenger tech any reasonable scientist wouldn’t be able to put that on hold for anything . So Peter never even entered any of the R&D (Research and Development) labs. And if he needed to eat, he would just take the elevator to the penthouse on the top floors. Moreover, he would have felt weird. An eighteen-year-old amongst employees starting in their early 30s, late 20s if they’re really smart, up until ages of 70. Even the interns were quite old. Stark Industries only took in college graduates, thus about 21 at the youngest and going up from there.

“We’re here!” multiple students screamed at the front of the bus and shortly after the vehicle stopped. They were about to stand up when their teacher admonished them, “Sit down, everyone. I know you are all very excited but before we go inside I’ll go over the ground rules again: No bullying, No walking off, always listen to the tour guide and your teacher. Remember, you will be representing Midtown High School, so be on your best behavior .”

(What is it with everything repeating itself? Every phrase, word by word?)

After making sure everyone understood, they all made their way to the front of the building. As every passenger exited through the front door, Mr. Harrington did a headcount, giving Peter a more expectant look than the others before at which he only managed to look downwards.

This however, resulted in him walking right into Flash, “Off me, Penis! I know you’re nervous. But don’t worry, it’s gonna be fun,” he said with a mischievous grin, “Well for the rest of us. I’m so looking forward to your face, this is gonna be awesome.”

And this was the cue for Mr. Harrington to intervene… I said this was- why's he not saying anything?

Although Mr. Harrington had never seen the full extent of Flash's bullying, his hatred and jealousy, his trauma and no opportunity to deal with it in a healthy manner, his pent up frustration and anger, sometimes even leading to physical abuse of Peter, he had always stopped Flash whenever it hat gotten too serious. Now though, he just seemed exasperated. Peter hadn't mentioned his internship once but because of Flash his teacher had already classified him as a nuisance.

Great.

No one held back there childish astonishment when they walked inside, including Peter. The reception area itself was an architectural masterpiece. Most of it in white with gold accents and marble everywhere. This screamed wealth, innovation, and genius. Just like Mr. Stark himself.

“Greetings everyone, you must be Midtown High School, right?” an unknown redhead in a bright green suit called out. With a nod of their teacher, the lady in front of the class beamed and followed up, “My name is Bethany Johnson, but you can call me Beth if you'd like. I am an intern here at Starks Industries, but about to become a full fledged employee in a couple months. I will be your tour guide for today.

“Before we enter, let me talk about some ground rules first and make sure everything's settled legally. According to the NDAs, which you have all signed, and hopefully read through, you have all agreed to hold everything you see today confidential. Our tour will include departments such as R&D, a place I know you as a STEM school are all very excited about, but also a place where unreleased products are produced and tested. If any information gets leaked, we will not hesitate to sue. Have I made myself clear?”

The students all nodded vigorously and Bethany seemed pleased, “To get you through security, you will all receive visitor badges and then walk through the metal detectors. Also, the badges must be on your person at all times or you will not be able to continue the tour with us and have to wait here at the reception area. You may keep them after the tour, as they will deactivate immediately after you leave the Tower. Please form a line and collect your badge.”

One after the other they lined themselves up in front of their tour guide, Flash of course at the very front and with a smug expression that read “I am better than all of you” after he collected his white badge with his name and face printed on the front side and hung it around his neck through the blue lanyard.

Peter kept himself at the back of the line, because he had only just realized what was about to happen. He already had a badge. Of course he had never needed it, FRIDAY would recognize him any time of the day without that thing, but for security reasons he had one. There was one problem though, Tony thought himself to be the funniest person on the planet, so Peter's badge was blue on a red lanyard (so as to resemble Spider-Man of course) and read “Underoos”. And he'd have to wear it the entire day. There was sadly no way that the school had gotten him a new one, because even if Peter's current access to the Tower was basically non-existent, the head of security, Happy Hogan, did not allow reprints under any circumstances, not even for the Avengers.

So when he finally reached Bethany and said his name, she seemed a bit perplexed, “It says here that you already have an active badge, is that right, Mr. Parker?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he reached for his pocket and pulled his unique badge out, “Here it is."

“Is that a joke, Under- Underoos?” Peter's cheek flushed, “No, ma'am.”

“And may I know how you managed to get ahold of this supposed badge, Mr. Parker?” He knew that he shouldn't be embarrassed, he was in the right, but he couldn't help it, “I- I work here, as an intern,” He stammered.

“Peter!”, his teacher reproached.

“I am sorry young man, but joking about such things and then the badge that you modified. That is leaning into serious legal territory. As long as you can guarantee me that the badge is working as intended and you keep it visible throughout the day, I can ignore that this one time?”

“Yes ma'am, I can assure you that the badge will let me through security.”

“Okay fine, off you go,” and Peter walked back to his two friends, “That was awkward.”.

“Everyone, now you will all have to go through the metal detectors one by one as I mentioned previously. Do not be alarmed by the voice that announces your entry. That is FRIDAY, Mr. Stark's AI that is installed throughout the entire building. Please refrain from talking to her, FRIDAY wouldn't answer regardless,” She was the first one to move through the Scanner.

“Bethany Johnson, clearance level: 4, threat level: 15%, welcome,” FRIDAY announced and everyone let out "wow"s and "oooh"s.

“Excuse me?”, Cindy raised her hand.

“You can just ask for Beth. Yes-,” she read the name on her badge, “Ms. Moon, what is your question?”

“What do the different clearance levels mean?”

“Great question. There are seven levels in total. With an increase in number they grant the badge holder increasing access to the Tower. Level one is for the press and visitors, such as yourselves, level two is for janitorial staff and security, level three is for entry to intermediate level interns, level four is for senior interns to entry and intermediate level employees, that would be me. Then there's five for senior interns and lab directors, six for the Avengers, and then level seven with full access. That right is reserved to five people only, though.”

“Who are those five people,” Flash asked.

“That would be Anthony Edward Stark and Virginia Potts, the CEO, of course, but also both of their PAs (Personal Assistants) and the head of security.”

Each and everyone made their way through the detectors with the same announcements, the only difference was, for one the names, but also clearance level. The threat level was kept between nine to 14 percent.

“Abraham Brown, clearance level: 1, threat level: 11%”

“Betty Brant, clearance level: 1, threat level: 13%”

Then it was Peter's turn. He braced himself for a second before walking through, keeping a steady breath.

“Peter B. Parker, clearance level: temporarily, one, threat level: 49%, welcome back Peter. Am I right to assume that you are under the guidance of Ms. Johnson today?”

“Why would-”, Bethany stuttered, but Peter caught her off guard, “Yep, that's correct Fri.”

“Parker,” that was Peter's teacher, “Didn't you listen, no talking to the-”

He was interrupted by the voice of FRIDAY responding, “Your status has been changed accordingly. Boss is still out of state I'm afraid. Have fun on your field trip, Peter.”

His classmates looked at Peter with disbelief, even his teacher. Neither MJ, nor Ned were surprised, but Flash was straight up fuming. How could a highschooler talk so casually with Tony Stark's AI, the Tony Stark. Everyone had gathered from the clearance level that Peter must've been lying about his internship, but not even the intern that was their tour guide was addressed so casually and was spoken to as if they were real human friends. FRIDAY'S voice itself sounded way more human-like and soft.

But Bethany Johnson and the security guards had not been focused on that part of Peter's exchange with the AI.

“Kid, I ask you to please come with us for a moment,” two of the guards came up to him, one of them speaking.

When he looked back, his classmates started to gossip, his teacher and guide on the other hand just stood there. He gave them a questioning look, Ms. Johnson whispered to Mr. Harrington, “It's just a checkup, no need to worry,” which Peter could understand due to his enhanced hearing. With a quick nod and a simple hand gesture from his teacher he was now following the security guards into a room, while everyone was staring at him.

“My name's Chris Beaker and this is Amy White, we are gonna ask you some questions and do a pat down,” the blond man said and Peter answered with a hesitant nod.

Shit. Shit. Shit. The Spider-suit is in my backpack, oh and of course the web shooters. Maybe if I just lie well enough they'll let me go? Who am kidding, I-

“What is your full name?”

“Peter Benjamin Parker, sir”

“Do you have any idea why your threat level is that high?”

“No, sir,” the words barely came out of his mouth. Could you be any more suspicious, Peter?

“Do you have any items on your person that may pose a risk to others?”

Peter was about to muster up an answer when a voice answered for him, “I am sorry Mr. Beaker but that information is classified.”

Praise the Lord of spiders, and FRIDAY of course!

“That is weird,” Amy stated, a bit dumbfounded.

“In that case I guess I will just have to pat you down right away,” Chris said as he made his way to Peter.

“I am sorry Mr. Beaker but you do not have the clearance to do that.”

“What?” Amy and Chris said in unison, “Why is that?”

“Classified.”

“And what clearance would one need to be able to interrogate this young man further?”

“Level 7”

It took a second for the two security guards to regain composure, but FRIDAY was quick to carry on, “You mustn't worry. I can assure you that Mr. Parker poses no security threat at all and no further inspection is needed.”

If it weren't for the, you know, non-existent body, Peter was sure he would kiss the ground FRIDAY would be walking on right now. At least someone who's on my side.

“Okay, kid. I guess if FRIDAY deems you trustworthy then so be it. But you better be careful out there and don't do anything reckless,” he was still a bit in shock to answer immediately to the implied question, so Amy tried again, “We will stop the interrogation now and you in turn won't do any funny business. Have we come to an agreement , Mr. Parker?”

This must be a joke? It's a common phrase, but so many people saying the same sentence in this short of a time span? That's just torture, man.

“Yes, ma'am. Yes, sir”

When he exited the room, Peter didn't expect the commotion outside.

Everyone made it through the metal detectors except for one person, Flash. It didn't seem like that was due to slow movement of the line, no, the gate behind the metal detector he was facing was closed. Flash seemed livid, but the guide and the other security guards were just confused.

Again, Flash tried to go through the metal detector.

“Eugene Thompson, clearance level: 1, threat level: 8%, access denied.”

“What's going on?” Peter had asked, now all attention was on him again. After confirming that Peter's situation was cleared, Bethany took a huge breather in relief and answered his query, “I am afraid our AI won't let Mr. Thompson through. We don't know why, though. He has clearance level one and poses no threat, but our system doesn't supply any reason for the matter.”

Peter thought a bit, but couldn't come up with an explanation, so he just turned to the next best thing, “Fri, why can't Flash go through the gates?”

“Peter, seriously, no talking to the thing,” said Mr. Harrington when Bethany explained at the same time, “We tried that before, it seems the information is confident-”

“Don't you remember Peter, you were the one to give me that command,” FRIDAY answered as if she followed Peter's every word and the attention of everyone on Peter grew heavier. If they knew.

“When did I say anything of the sort?”

“Three and a half weeks ago, 17:49. It was a Tuesday.”

“That's too long ago, I don't know what the hell I said.”

“Language, Peter. One dollar has been added to the swear jar. Would you like me to play the recording of three and a half weeks ago?”

The exchange was odd, for anyone but Peter. This is how it normally went. Now, they had an audience, which caused Peter to get nervous and accept FRIDAY's inquiry without thinking.

A hologram appeared, everyone gasped, and a video started playing:

[ “Hey, Fri?” a Peter covered in motor oil and seated in Tony's lab (they wouldn't know that though) questioned.

“Yes, Peter? Can I help you with something? You seem quite upset.”

“Just promise, if that ass Flash Thompson ever decides to step foot in this tower, you kick him out immediately. God, he's annoying.”

“Language, Peter. One dollar has been added to the swear jar (Ah, repeating sentences, isn't that a completely new and fun experience).

Peter slammed his head down on the desk and groaned.]

With that, the video concluded and utter silence reigned the security area and anyone within earshot. The first to seize volume was, who would have thought, Flash.

“Parker, what the actual fuck!?" he basically screamed. Whoever was on the first floor and hadn't paid attention before, now joined the others in just standing and watching the fiasco go down.

“No, that was not my intention. I was just mad at you that day. I wasn't being serious!" Peter tried to rectify.

“Faking an internship wasn't bad enough, you had to hack Stark's AI so I can't embarrass you, huh? That's what's going on? You are insufferable and fucking pathetic!” he yelled, louder than before.

Immediately, the tour guide intervened, “Now, now, gentlemen. This must be a big misunderstanding. FRIDAY cannot be hacked. Mr. Parker, care to explain what that is?”

“As I said, I was just mad at Flash that day and needed to vent. I didn't know Fri would take that seriously!” he tried to explain 

“Well, I don't know your affiliation to this company, but I will have to notify the legal department on that. This can wait till a later time though, Raymond?”, a security guard nodded, before she continued, “Can we get that boy here please through the gates?”

This made Peter question something. Who permitted this trip and got the badges printed? Both Tony and Pepper were in another country, including Pepper's PA Angelina Jade, and Happy as well. Who is currently in charge of everything and has temporarily higher clearance?

“I"m sorry Beth, but the system says level 7 clearance is required”, the security guard noted, his expression carrying a sliver of worry.

Peter tried, “Fri, could you please give Flash access?”

“For Christ's sake, Peter, I have told you multiple times that you are not allowed to talk to the AI,” Mr. Harrington reprimanded but FRIDAY answered Peter's question, “I'm sorry Peter, Boss has temporarily reclaimed your rights to make me execute commands not information related.”

That was not how FRIDAY was supposed to talk to a highschool student, every overhearing employee knew that, so they all contemplated what the reasoning behind the AI's behavior was. He used that brief period of thought to ask, “Who is currently in charge of SI? And who gave us access to the Tower”

Still angry, Flash was quick to respond, “Ms. Potts of course, idiot!”

But Peter was just as quick, “No, she's in Asia right now, I think Indonesia at this moment. And Mr. Stark and Happy are both not present as well.”

“Who's Happy?” one of his classmates cut in, but was quickly dismissed by the voice of Bethany, “Mr. Parker, I don't know why you are aware of such private details, but that information as well as who is currently in charge are both confidential, even for my level of clearance.”

FRIDAY had different thoughts regarding that, “To answer your first question, Peter, Mr. Lucas McCourtney is acting on behalf on Ms. Potts right now. He was the one who approved of this trip. Secondly, it was Mr. Hogan who still takes time out of his busy schedule to review incoming security requests.”

“Would you mind then sending a request to Happy to-”, he was cut off by his teacher, this time screaming as well, “Peter, one more time and you'll have to leave this trip. Have we come to an agreement? ” If I hear that sentence one more time, I'm gonna castrate whoever dares to say it.

As Peter gave a nod in response, FRIDAY's voice rang through the security area again, “Will do, Peter. You can expect a response in one to twenty-four hours.”

He wanted to thank her, he really did, but he couldn't bear to hear his teacher again, so he kept quiet and hoped she would get the message.

“Thank you, Mr. Parker, for whatever that was just now. In the meantime, I ask Mr. Thompson and you both to wait at the lounging area until everything is sorted out, while the rest of the class will commence with the tour.”

““Me?”” the words flew right out of Flash and Peter's mouths.

“Yes, the both of you. One cannot access the Tower, the other is highly suspicious. To be frank, we haven't gotten a clue what to do with you, so you will have to wait until we hear back from Mr. Hogan or the current highest ranking authority, that being Mr. McCourtney apparently. But with so many executives out of state, I don't believe he will have time for such trivial matters. Chris, Amy, please accompany these boys to the lounging area.”

““Yes, ma'am,”” they both answered. Amy took Flash's arm and Chris was about to grab Peter's, when FRIDAY stopped him, “Mr. Beaker, refrain from touching Mr. Parker. Protocol Underoos states that any individual that touches Mr. Parker in a way that restricts his autonomy will be kicked out indefinitely, thus resulting in you losing your job.”

Chris didn't hesitate and took his hands off of Peter without a second thought. He looked back at the other security personnel who motioned for him to go, completely disregarding what the AI had recalled. So Chris just said, “Follow me,” and made sure to always walk at an at least 50 cm distance to Peter. They only took 15 seconds to get to the couches at the entrance, but ‘better safe than sorry’ the scared security guard thought.

Shortly after the two highschoolers sat down, Chris walked away. He tried to seem nonchalant about it but everyone could see the shudder in his hasty steps. Amy moved away from them too, but just a few meters so as to still be able to observe the them.

“I hate your guts, Penis!”

This is Flash for ya, yay, exciting.

Peter didn't respond.

“You always have to make everything about yourself. You are such a self centered prick. You are the goddamn reason I cannot join the field trip of the place I wanna work at some day,” he complained as the elevator filled to the brim with happy students left the first floor of SI.

“Can you just stop, please, for the love of god?”, Peter let out, completely exasperated and left of all his fighting power.

“No, I can't. I hate you, I have never said that word, but I think you are what I'd call a B.I.T.C.H”, he enunciated each of the five letters harshly and slowly. Flash wasn't finished, “And you know what?” He sounded as if he just had an enlightenment, staring at no particular spot in the ceiling, mouth wide open, pupils shrunken, “I'm glad you're here with me, because I hate you, but you also hate me too. Now you’ll have to suffer the consequences. It’s that simple .”

Like the last twig that was holding up a dam snapping in two, the last bits of spirit that were keeping Peter sane crumbled. Emotions flooded his mind at lighting speed like the water that escaped the bounds of the destroyed dam and was now causing havoc. When Flash retold the words of Tony, just as he did before, Peter broke.

And then,

he cried.

It was an ugly cry which made it all the sweeter for Flash Thompson. He was laughing like a maniac.

Peter always thought that if Flash bullied him, at least he couldn't bully someone else. He was Spider-Man, he could take it. But he was also

wrong.

It had been years of bullying, never would've Peter admitted that he couldn't take it.

People tended to say Flash had a crush on him and that's why he would bully him.

But Peter had been at the receiving end of said bullying, he knew what was directed at him was not cute nagging but deep trauma and rage that sought outlet. And that outlet was Peter. God , how he wished that Flash had a crush on him. It would make life so much easier.

But no, this was Eugene "Flash" Thompson. The guy that caught Peter crying for the first time after years of seemingly ineffective bullying and then laughed. Laughed as Peter balled his eyes out, laughed as Peter sobbed. Laughed as Peter experienced an outburst of pain he hadn't felt since Uncle Ben died. Because since that day, Peter had kept everything that burdened him to himself. Even sixteen days ago, when Tony left, he didn't let everything out. If he did, he wouldn't be standing here right now.

But that he was. He was here, on a couch near the reception, adjacent to Flash, and observed by a professionally trained security guard, in a place that he would sometimes call his second home.

This, this was no home. Home was not a place, but the people that strolled through that place.

Where were those people? Not here, not "Home".

MJ wasn't here, Ned wasn't here. They were probably at the museum, enjoying themselves. At least he hoped that they would.

Aunt May wasn't here. She was working in the hospital, her mind keeping up with all sorts of things. But currently those sort of things were probably more a coughing patient, rather than her nephew on a supposedly joyful school trip to the place where Peter always had worked together with the Tony Stark.

Wade Wilson wasn't here. His freshly called boyfriend was probably in a trashy bar, drunk and loading people's faces with lead masked as Deadpool.

Happy wasn't here.

None of the Avengers we're here.

Tony wasn't here.

Pepper wasn't here.

Just Peter, him and his tears.

The security guards didn't care, the employees didn't care, Flash didn't care. He just kept laughing. Happy didn't reply, Tony didn't reply, the message to Wade didn't send and he didn't even bother writing to Peter after all that.

So,

he just cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Chapter Text

Peter wasn't sure how long it's been. How long since he started crying. How long since every emotion kept hidden underneath the facade of Peter B. Parker, one of the smartest kids in his school and one who always seemed to radiate pure joy, was let loose.

As he sobbed through his grief, his pain, his life experiences, all he could hear was what Flash had kept saying.

Pathetic.

Insufferable.

Self-centered.

These words occupied his mind longer than they should have. But no matter how hard he tried, they stayed as if engraved into his eyelids.

When Peter's eyes were closed, he saw those words.

When Peter's eyes were open, he saw those words.

Because when he opened his eyes, all he could see was Flas-? Flash? Where's Flash?

It didn't take long, just two flicks of his eyes, to realize Flash Thompson left his seat next to Peter and made to stand.

Adjacent him stood a black figure, Peter's eyes too wet to make out who it was.

“Hello, Mr. Parker, didn't you hear? Your request got through,” Ah, this is Amy, I think . He responded as he tried to stifle the sobbing sounds “Through? You mean the request to Happy?”

“Yes. Because the head of security not only received but also granted your request, the current security personnel has deemed you trustworthy enough and of course Mr. Thompson can join the tour with you as well,” she was smiling, whereas he could only think back to those three words when hearing that name again.

Pathetic.

Insufferable.

Self-centered.

“Mr. Parker?” she was met with no response, “Well, if you need more time to… ehm, adjust, don't worry. You may ask any of the other guards to escort you any time but keep in mind that you'll lose out on more of the experience. We are talking about touring through the Avengers Tower, don't let that opportunity go to waste!” she prompted without sounding patronizing.

At least someone's nice to m-

“He'll manage, let's keep going, I can't wait to see the labs!” Flash faked a sheepish grin all the while glaring at Peter with a triumphant, devilish stare.

Pathetic.

Insufferable.

Self-centered.

Amy took a last glance at him before leaving with Flash by her side through the metal detectors and up the elevator.

There he was, alone again. Not even that dickhead to keep me company.

His phone made a sound, “Chimichangas” Wade?

Wade Wilson: Hey, baby. You good? Cuz a lil metal maybe not so little yellow-red birdie told me that you aren't. And you know that mighty ass of yours is too sexy to justify any spilled tears!!!

He gave a soft chuckle at that. Right before he managed to actually deduce what that message implied another message came through.

Wade Wilson: Although, when I think about it, maybe with a little liquid it'd shine so heavenly.

Wade Wilson: Wait, No!!! Oil! We need Oil!

Wade Wilson: AHH YES, I wanna oil you up soooo bad and then make sexy sexy love with you!

Wade!! Peter flushed but didn't change in color due to his already red and tear-stained face. Now, though, his mind was occupied, at least a little.

Wade Wilson: Oopsie doopsie, getting off track. But with those glorious buttocks, I just  Anygays, you good my little bakery, like fr? More like mega ultra hot bakery… time and place, you are a formidably superhero Deadpool!!! What do you mean, of course I am!! A kill or two is okay every now and then!! Shut up!!

He loved when Wade rambled and was about 98% sure that he had some sort of dissociative identity disorder. Oh well- Wait let's backtrack for a second!

A quick glance to the previous message and he realized.

Does Mr. Stark somehow know that I cried?? Fri, you traitor!! But no way Mr. Stark would contact Wade. He very obviously dislikes him. But he was his boyfriend and at least somewhere in America, probably.

Peter Parker: I'm alright I guess idk, but it's fine don't worry!

Not convincing anyone with that lie, the man walking the gray area between hero and criminal responded immediately.

Wade Wilson: Ik your lying, Baby ):

Peter Parker: *you're

Wade Wilson: HA! YOU ADMIT, I WIN!!! Oh, Ehm, I mean BAAAAD BOY!!!! Naughty (; rawr NO I MEAN BAAAAAAAAD!!!!!

Goddamnit! He admonished himself for being a nerd (Although that wouldn't have made any difference).

Wade Wilson: Ik you tho, so ik you ain't taking shit anytime soon. Don't think that means I'm letting ya off the hook! My eyes are everywhere muhahahah wait no that sounds villainous hihihi no that's a middle-school girl blablabla yadada EVERYWHERE!! Mhm, yep even under there!

Peter Parker: Under where?

Wade Wilson: HAHAHAH YOU SAID UNDERWEAR

Mentally Peter facepalmed but soon after came to realize that there were no more water droplets hanging from his chin and the voice of Flash wasn't as loud anymore. God , Peter loved his boyfriend.

After pondering for a minute he decided to continue the tour with everyone else, be it even if he was there as well. You can do it, you're Spider-Man after all. Peter assured himself as he stood and strode towards the other sight of the hall.

If he wanted to, he could just go through the gates without scanning his badge. Before, he didn't wanna seem suspicious to his class or the tour guide. Now they were gone but after seeing the stern looks from the security guards he quickly decided to dismiss that thought and did as he did before.

“Peter B. Parker, clearance level: temporarily, one, threat level: 49%, welcome back Peter. Ms. Johnson and your class are currently on floor 27 and about to enter the PR department.”

“I'll take you up there, kid,” the guard from before, Raymond was it? . One look at the badge, Raymond Plea. Mr. Plea robbed him of any chance of responding to FRIDAY. While she was just an AI to most, Peter already saw her as somewhat of a friend, though. Today, maybe more as a mischievous traitor. Mark my words, Fri! I yearn for VENGEANCE!

Once they entered one of the elevators, the doors closed and it began to gain altitude.

The guard was slightly bewildered at the speed, Peter guessed that FRIDAY had adjusted it because he was in there. Professionalism as a priority in SI, Raymond quickly regained composure and didn't comment on the change of pace.

When the doors of the elevator opened, their gazes were met with stern counterparts. Mr. Harrington and Bethany Johnson, both donned expectant looks. 

His teacher was the first to find his voice, “One last time, Peter. No bullying, No walking off, always listen to the tour guide and your teacher.” Oh fuck me twice. Stop repeating yourself!

“Is that clear, Mr. Parker,” Mr. Johnson followed.

His only response was a gulp accompanied by a slight nod. This didn't satisfy them, though, “Speak, you are not a puppy. You are an adult. Act like one,” Mr. Harrington scolded.

“Yes, sir,” he squeaked.

“Yes, what?” This was humiliating, at least none saw-

“You hear that, haha, a good one, ‘puppy’,” his super hearing picked up a muffled voice. Shit. His class drew closer, and apparently, was in hearing range.

In these last few days, Peter felt nothing but rejection. Humility on top all that was past unbearable, if that was even possible.

“Yes, what?” Mr. Harrington repeated.

A drop of salty water escaped his doe eyes and acted as a substitute for super glue once it passed his lips.

Flashed started laughing, of course, his friends rejoicing in the “fun”, but even some of his other classmates seemed to forgo all pity. The events that occured a while ago was deemed proof enough to trust Flash’s story and make him out to be the victim. The once so comforting faces of his two best friends were lost beneath the resenting cackles and averted demeanors of the others.

“Peter!”

With all the might he could muster, he broke the invisible seal that caged his words, “Yes, sir. I will abide by the rules.”

Now, even the two authoritative figures heard the loud exchanges in their vicinity.

“Ah perfect, your classmates are finished with their trip through the PR department. Everybody, please, follow me into the elevator. Our next destination is something you have probably been looking forward to the entire time, our Research and Development facilities.”

Whilst what Ms. Johnson had said made Peter's classmates stop making fun of him in lieu of radiating excitement, this was by no means her intention. Not an ounce of pity was displayed in her eyes. She probably doesn't want a teen ruining her plans of becoming a full fledged employee. Yay, another thing I might be at fault for.

As everybody hurried into the elevator, and Raymond left for another, Peter tried to find his friends but was quickly stopped by a harsh tone coming from Mr. Harrington, “Listen carefully, you will not leave my side, comprende?” 

“Yes, sir,” he answered quickly, but his teacher did not seem satisfied, “Yes, sir, I will stay close by.”

More silent laughing ensued proportionally with the appearance of more prominent arteries in Peter's scleras.

Then, a scoff, “Stop whining, you are an adult, even if barely, Parker” Ouch, it's Parker now, I guess. Harrington turned away with an annoyed expression.

As the class ascended Peter finally crossed gazes with Ned, soon after with MJ. They looked forlorn, nevertheless, any attempt at non-verbal communication were crushed under the squeals of elation that chimed through the air when the dim light of the R&D labs cascaded on the faces of the students.

All these stimuli resulted in a sensory overload. He was overwhelmed beyond measure, such a thing was inevitable.

People were speaking. To him? Maybe. He wouldn't know. The voices around him were incoherent. What his overturned senses picked up were the way each shoe clashed with the rubbery lab floor. How his shirt ruffled in the creases of his arms and legs. How his dry tongue tried to swallow in an attempt to gain control over his body once again.

Just when the overwhelmed feeling died down minutely, Peter realized that he was not standing in the elevator anymore. Guided by the hand of Ned he arrived at a desk. MJ was there as well.

They brought a familiar calm with them that could anchor him in his darkest times.

Focus!

He could not, even so, he had to. At least somewhat. If he did not get his shit together the consequences would be dire. No matter what he would say, Mr. Harrington was never going to listen.

So he did, focus, or whatever it is called when one is barely holding on in an attempt not to pass out immediately while suffering from mental turmoil.

Of what lay in front of him, I think that's a screwdriver, Peter gathered they were at desks with the purpose of building something. He reached for the tool not accounting for the sound of the metal end scratching across the stainless steel desktop, the two metals clashing as Peter's senses reached a peak past their limits once again.

Any attempt to quell the agonizing feelings inside of him were in vain, instead he opted for the only way out: to leave.

And so he left his desk, and Ned, and MJ, and whoever crossed his path, passing one disapproving look on his teacher's face in his wake as he excused himself for the bathroom.

Granted, he didn't know where that was but any place away from all the commotion would be a sanctuary for his mind.

Certainly, someone had to care where he went, but they didn't. Despite the fact that he was seen as troublesome in their eyes, Peter could imagine that Mr. Harrington and Ms. Johnson saw this opportunity as a reprieve themselves.

“No walking off” what a joke.

“Hi Peter,” a voice called out.

Instinct kicked in.

A defensive position was immediately taken.

“There are no threats in the imminent area,” the voice called again. Almost robotic. Finally, Peter's senses cooled down enough to make out who he was talking to, “Friday?”

“Hi Peter, how are you feeling? Your vitals fall strongly out of the normal range.”

“If that isn't the understatement of the the year,” he half-laughed in sullen snark.

“Protocol: ‘Give the baby some rest’ has been activated. I will initiate sensory deprivation mode now.”

All of the sudden the room was growing dark as the last beams of light were dying down with the closing of the blinds. A “thud” and it seemed that all the doors had been shut and sealed off.

“Breathe, Peter”

And so he did.

Once

Twice

Thrice

“You have to do breathe slower and deeper, Peter”

He shouted a quick response, “ I AM TRYING MY BEST!” as a shudder was sent through his spine, “I am sorry, Fri. That helped a lot, really, thank you. I'm just- I don't know, it's all way too much at once.”

“No one is judging you, Peter, take your time.”

For the next couple minutes he alternated between shallow breaths and suppressed sobs. Slowly, but surely, he got himself under control as FRIDAY counted a repeating rhythm to follow along.

However, instead of the calm Peter was seeking, the new-found silence paved space for something else: His mind.

With his senses more or less in check his thoughts could run rampant.

Still counting, Friday was unaware of the internal struggle the adolescent was facing.

~You can't help yourself, can you?~ his inner voice accompanied the repeating count “One, two, three…”

~You always have to mess everything up. No wonder Stark left you, he knew you would be nothing but a burden.~

“No!-” he practically screamed but he shut himself off immediately, “I-, no, that's not true!” The urgency in his voice was pungent. He needed comfort.

“Peter, what are you feeling right now?” the artificial intelligence inquired.

Although the effort was recognized, what he really needed was physical comfort.

A hug would be amazing right now…

~Pfft, don't fool yourself. No one cares enough and you know it. Better accept it now then to come crashing down from the fragile throne of ignorant bliss.~

Stop it! Why does my self-conscious me have to be all smart and use metaphors and stuff.

~Because I'm right, obviously. They hate you and they don't need you. They don't want you.~

Would you shut up already? Why am I even talking to myself?! That's Wade's thing!

~You mean your boyfriend that left you?

Pathetic.

Insufferable.

Self-centered.

That's what you are and that's what you'll aaaaalways be.~

“Fri, please-,” Peter sounded exhausted beyond control, “would you be a darling and turn on the lights again?”

“Are you s-” “YES!” he interrupted, “I mean, sorry, please. Just- I can't, no I need, no AHHH whatever my mind goes bleh.” While he was speaking he made a wavy hand gesture and blew a raspberry.

Friday was confused, yet still made the blinds recede to gradually let in more and more light. “Peter?” She was clearly confused.

“Let's test a theory. If I destroy all of my brain cells and thereby dumb myself down maybe I just won't be able to think anymore. Yep that's smart! No wait, dumb. That's dumb. I need to be dumb!”

“Peter, I am unsure if that is the right course of action.”

“But it hurts so much. These- these thoughts. They hurt so much.” His eyes were enlarged, yet no tear escaped them. Damp cheeks and small dark patches on his clothes were proof enough as to why this was the case. One can only shed tears so often before even the pain finds no means to express itself anymore.

“A drink would be highly advisable,” FRIDAY chirped up. No less than 0.3 seconds later the water dispenser next to the door filled a paper cup with liquid. As his eyes drifted towards the refreshment, they past the door and…

One furiously looking man?

“Shit! Mr. Harrington”

Peter couldn't quite gauge how long he had been standing there. He hadn't noticed him at all due to the still active soundproofing. Oh wow, Fri takes me literally. Though, if swollen knuckles were any indicator Mr. Harrington had either knocked for a long time or extremely harshly. No matter what had actually been the case, neither option implied a particularly good mood his teacher was in.

“Whoop whoop, that's the sound of the police,” he said half-jokingly with barely any intonation supporting his voice.

“Peter, this is not the police but your teacher,” she tried to explain.

Still a little tipsy Peter hurriedly scrambled to his feet and gave a slight chuckle. Then again, that feeling was quickly replaced with pure dread. This will just be *awesome* Dear Spider-God, SAVE MY ASS PLEASE.

Once he opened the door, Peter stood still, gazing downwards, awaiting punishment.

But when nothing came, he finally looked up. What he saw was not anger, but apathy? That's new.

“I don't have the energy for this bullshit. Just come along and sit by your fucking table.”

Peter didn't move an inch, perplexed by the obvious change in mannerism and language.

“You know what? Fuck it, do as you please. That's what you're good at, huh? I don't care. Maybe then security will finally save me from this crap.”

From all that could have happened, from all that could have been said, Peter was not expecting this. His heart plummeted. Sure, Mr. Harrington had always been a little direct from time to time. But never before had he spoken with so little care for something . Not for Peter, not for himself, not for the school’s image. Not staying away from insults, he spoke with distaste and contempt. Like Peter was the greatest burden life could have weighed his teacher down with.

~Just as I said, burden.~ the back of his mind added shamelessly.

Even Flash had always yearned to stir a reaction out of him. Determined to instigate embarrassment and pain in Peter.

While what Mr. Harrington said hurt all the same, his mannerism didn't seem intentional. Only blunt honesty. 

And that made it worse. 

Far worse.

Because now he couldn't blame Flash’s insecurities on the battle in his mind. This was no mere battle. This was war, carnage, and disaster as Mr. Harrington's words carried his mind to a land of cruel misery like a lullaby would bring one to their sleep.

Any optimism left was crushed under the pessimistic words of his teacher. Just like heavy stones would and just like heavy stones it would hurt as every action inflicts more and more pain.

“Gosh, you aren't even moving one bit. Imma head off, don't expect me to wait.” And so Mr. Harrington was gone almost as soon as he came.

There were tears left to cry. The water FRIDAY had poured him was long forgotten. The only option was to…? Do what exactly?

Peter didn't notice the moment his legs started moving, but he was walking as if his body had a mind of its own. Well, it technically kinda has. Spider-sense and all. No actually, it felt more like his soul left his body. As if he were just observing from above with no ability to influence anything.

He quickly found himself by the side of his friends again. Despite the fact that Peter couldn't make out their faces, it looks all so blurry, he could give a good guess: worry. They were worried, but a chaste “‘m fine” from the boy left no room for discussion. He can't help himself, even for his friends there is barely any energy left. Frankly, he is drained.

MJ and Ned help him get settled in and let Peter take over the job of gathering all the supplies. No dexterity and precise movements were required for this task and it was keeping him somewhat occupied.

Until…

“Argh-,” Peter tripped on something and fell to the ground. Once again, his vision was too blurry to make out what it was but a scathing MJ filled in the gaps:

“What the fuck, Flash? Get away from him”

MJ turned to look for her teacher but Mr. Harrington only rolled his eyes disdainfully and turned to walk in another direction.

Since Peter seemed to have no visible injury and everyone had signed a waiver beforehand, Ms. Johnson was satisfied enough and also directed her attention elsewhere.

Flash, on the other hand, had the smuggest grin on his face: “Cool it MJ. I did nothing. Maybe it was just fate calling and punishing those who deserve it.”

“You-,” MJ started to rant, but Flash blatantly ignored her and got back to his desk.

With no further support other than Ned she had no other option and just went on with helping Peter get up. They all collected the spare parts from the floor together and continued working. The sheer lack of reaction to Flash’s antics from Peter left Ned and MJ more than worried. No “Flash is so annoying.”, no “I can't deal with him anymore.”, and no “Would he just mind his own business?” Nothing. Peter was like an empty shell, movements forceful as if moved by the strings of a puppeteer. So on he went, collecting more parts with a face void of any reaction.

While he was away MJ and Ned had a little chat:

“Dude, I am worried. I know things are bad but I didn't think they were this bad,” Ned started. MJ carried on, “You're so right. Stupid Peter, always bottling up his emotions and not telling us!” 

Ned responded by faux-coughing and hurriedly whispered, “Takes one to know one”. The only response he got was a pointed glare.

“Let's backtrack. So everyone's gone. Happy, Stark, Pepper, so the whole shebang. And he messed up, so he has no access to the Tower. Well, besides this tour.”

“But we knew those things already.”

“Hm, you are right. However, that's still baggage on his shoulders. So basically anything, no matter how big or small, could be the last straw and send him in a spiral,” MJ argued.

“Alright, then. First, we got the incidents with Flash-,” a groan from MJ shortly interrupted his talking, “Big and small, you said. There is the teasing in the bus, usually, though, Peter never cared for any of it. And even given the special situation, I don't think this would leave an impact like that.”

“Fine, what's next?” MJ inquired deep in thought. “The security gate issue. Maybe the kicker in this case was the way they handled him. Like he isn't a part of the Tower, the place he normally would call his second home if we're being honest.” 

Quickly humming in agreement, MJ brought up another point, “Let’s not forget how they treated him in general. Mr. Harrington especially. Just look at him sitting in the corner. His face practically exudes pure disdain, I think I can even smell his emotions. Oh wait, maybe that's just the sweat. All those nerds in here would really benefit from some cardio.” “MJ!” Ned chastised with a disapproving glare.

“Ugh, okay. I digress. Anyway, I don't see how any of those things would cause whatever is going on with Peter on their own. Man's got a strong backbone. Gotta admit that,” she concurred.

“Maybe that's just it then,” after a slightly confused look in MJ’s face he followed up, “It's not the individual things but the constantly repeating little things. He would've been able to deal with something big, instead he was confronted with constant shit from everyone. Spread throughout the entire day. Peter had no time to recover, to think, to heal.”

They both looked at each other. With pity for Peter but also guilt.

“We've been great friends supporting him, huh?” MJ asked sardonically.

As Ned opened his mouth to respond, he paused, “Wait a minute. We've been talking for how long now? Wasn't he supposed to just get a copper coil or something?”

In a hurried manner both pairs of eyes scanned the area. No Peter to be found. Without needing verbal confirmation, they both ran in different directions in search of their best friends. Not caring who they knocked over while doing so.

Finally, MJ found him, “SHIT!”

– 5 minutes ago, Peter –

Finally, he had found the right sized copper coil. 5 mm that's what Ned asked for, I think? It was stored in a box in a separate room off the side to the main one. When Peter turned to get back, a face protruded from the wall which connected both rooms. None other than Flash’s, ‘of course it is,’ he dreaded in his mind.

“Puny fucking Parker,” Flash growled cynically, “missed me?”

“Flash, can’t you just drop it. I am really not in the mood,” was what Peter’s mouth automatically supplied to the conversation. In actuality, he was angry. Angry at Flash, plenty more people if he was honest. But seeing him alone without any bystanders, it triggered something in his brain. Right now, he was angry at Flash. For how he treated him. For the ruckus he had caused, the childish and petty remarks he sputtered. For how he changed the way his teacher looked at Peter.

Intrusive thoughts popped up in his mind, ranging from rather harmless things like “Tell him to fuck off” to more aggressive ones like “Punch him in the face”. But this was Peter Benjamin Parker we are talking about. The vigilante who believed to always do the right thing. To only use violence as a defense. To not abuse your power for insignificant things.

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

Even when his biggest wish right now was to see Flash in pain.

For some reason, it seemed, just like with grief, there were five stages with taking shit. At first, when he got bullied, it hurt a lot. That, however, had started when he was still young: “The scrawny nerd” that is what he was and still is to most of the people he sees in his civilian daily life.

Then the sadness turned to resignation. Departing from all reactions, emotions, and feelings entirely. Just how it had happened with Mr. Harrington.

Next, apparently, there was anger. He was seething inside. All hatred amplified by his enhanced primal instincts.

In any case, Peter's morals overruled the blunt heat radiating off of him. So he kept up the facade of disinterest.

Meanwhile, Flash didn't like this at all.

“Where are those pretty tears from before, huh?” Flash said as he crept closer into his space. He was waiting for a reaction.

All Peter could do when he felt threatened was switch to his other persona: Spider-man, who handled all situations with slightly inappropriate humor,

“Aw, you liked them. Thanks for the compliment.”

Immediately, Flash's expression changed from amused and bitter to (still bitter but also) scornful. “What are you implying, that I'm a fag?” At the same time he pushed Peter as hard as he could. Normally, Peter wouldn't budge from such a thing. Especially when he saw it coming. Like he did now. The words Flash used threw him off, though. So he fell.

While not uncommon, homophobia still hurt. Even coming from Flash. Peter already felt like a train wreck. Shame regarding his sexuality only added to the amount of pain he felt. Despite that, he was a righteous person and wouldn't stand up for Flash’s crap, “I don't care what you call me but stay away from the homophobia. Only makes you look more insecure.”

Already being on the floor didn't stop Flash from kicking him in the shins, “Smug today, are we? You are probably a faggot yourself. Pathetic. Probably shagging that ugly, fat friend of yours. Gross.”

“Don't you dare talk about my friend that way!” he made to stand up but Flash was already throwing himself onto Peter. With all his weight, he slammed him into the shelves containing the materials 

A barrage of tiny and big items made their way onto the ground alongside Peter when he fell. The floor was littered with long metal bars, think microchips, translucent sheets of foil, a wide array of nails in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and…

blood?

Someone was bleeding? Immediately, his urge to protect kicked in. When he made to stand, however, he soon realized whose blood it was he was getting riled up about.

Blood left his arteries from his calves, his left elbow, his forehead. Lacerations were littered all over his body. All attempts were in vain, aching muscles were the only result he got in response.

Blocking out the light from above, the now comparable tall figure of Flash loomed over Peter.

Drained of all energy, the healing wouldn’t kick in. The water poured by FRIDAY had stayed untouched after Mr. Harrington found Peter and due to him oversleeping, breakfast had been easily forgotten.

Left with no other options, he bellowed the simple word “help” as loud as he could.

Flash laughed in pure amusement, “Good one, Puny. Haha. Pathetic, yet hilarious. Truly!”

What Peter hadn't realized through the haze in his mind, Flash had closed the door somewhere down the line. Nobody would here his pleas in aguish.

Pathetic. Yep, that is what he felt like. Spider-man, brought down by a bully with pent-up aggression. God, Pete, you are a joke. There is no point in fooling yourself any longer. And he believed it. Internalized it. He was pathetic . ‘What is the point then?’ he asked himself. Doesn’t matter, anyway. Peter closed his eyes.

Dear Spider-God, may death be a mercy to me and all the people that had to deal with me. Let me, oh please, just let me bleed to death here. I beg of you.