Chapter Text
This may have been the longest seventh period of his life.
Peter stared at clock and watched the minute hand tick ever so slowly. His body kept busy bouncing his leg while his mind zeroed in on the time. Another minute passed and Peter’s eyes began to sting. He became conscious of his blinking and instead of focusing on the clock like he intended, he directed his focus on maintaining an appropriate number of blinks to be socially acceptable.
He looked back toward the clock to see another two minutes had been eaten up.
On a perfectly normal day, Peter’s sole focus would be on the lesson Mr. Harrington had planned. His lip would be pulled between his teeth in concentration and his wrist would he sore from constant note taking.
On a perfectly normal day, Peter would savor this time in the science classroom during seventh period. He would savor Ned’s company in the desk next to his and the evening sun peeking between the half-closed blinds. He would savor the informative videos and the hands-on labs.
Today was not a perfectly normal day.
Peter had been nursing a headache since his alarm had gone off. Normal medication could no longer keep up with his metabolism and proved futile in getting rid of the throbbing pain in Peter’s skull.
It was like everything rubbed him the wrong way today. Car horns were obnoxiously loud and it seemed like everyone was stomping with concrete shoes. Even Ned seemed extra chatty and Flash’s vocal volume was pumped up to eleven. Frankly, Peter was sick of anyone and everyone in the building.
Another minute.
“Class!” Mr. Harrington clapped twice to get the teens’ attention. “I have an exciting announcement, so please stay seated.” A couple chairs creaked as students sat back down. A small grin spread across his face.
“Because of Midtown’s academic excellence in science courses, the school has decided to award one class in the science department with a field trip! And unsurprisingly, they chose you!” A few kids perked up in their seats as Peter sunk down into his. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with field trips. Betty’s hand shot into the air.
“Where are we going?” she asked. The grin spread even further as Mr. Harrington cleared his throat.
“We’re going to… Stark Industries!” Mr. Harrington smiled broadly as the room starting buzzing with excitement. If Midtown School of Science and Technology wasn’t full of absolute nerds, then maybe going to Stark Industries wouldn’t have been such a big deal. But to Peter’s absolute joy, SI was like Disney Land to these people.
Mr. Harrington beckoned MJ to the front of the room to pass out a stack of papers.
A few optimists were fantasizing about the “one-in-a-million” chance of meeting the Avengers on the trip. Most people were jabbering about seeing the R&D labs and meeting actual Stark Industries Approved scientists.
Peter started calculating the infinite ways something could go horribly wrong.
Too busy with his internal squalor, he barely noticed Ned vibrating with excitement in the seat next to him. He looked so starstruck that he might have been going cross-eyed.
MJ slapped the two papers down on his desk with an amused smile. Peter groaned and shoved the papers into his bag without looking at them.
Ned missed the memo and promptly threw his paper onto Peter’s desk. He pointed at the heading that spelled out where they were going clear as day.
Peter’s forehead thumped against the desk.
Mr. Harrington disrupted the collective chatter by yelling about the importance of getting the permission slips and NDAs in tomorrow before they board the bus at eight o’clock. He sent warning glares at Peter every so often, poking at Peter’s notable lack of punctuality.
Peter’s brain screeched to a halt as he perked back up. Tomorrow? What did he mean tomorrow? Peter gripped Ned’s paper and straightened it out so he could see what the permission slip actually said.
‘Your child has been invited to STARK INDUSTRIES on Tuesday, April 24.
Parent/Guardian signature: _________________’
Tuesday. Tomorrow. Tomorrow! Why in the world are they just being told now?
“Probably something to do with the NDAs. Maybe they’re just trying to avoid the press?” Ned answered in kind. Peter cringed as he realized his internal monologue was not so internal.
“If they wanted to avoid press then maybe they shouldn’t have Iron Man as the face of their company.” He huffed out a laugh and gave the paper back to Ned.
The bell rung and the boys stood to gather their things. “To be fair, you can’t have Stark Industries without the Stark. And said Stark happens to be-“ Ned dropped his voice and wiped his hand over an invisible horizon. “-one of Earth’s mightiest heroes!”
Peter laughed and zipped his backpack shut. “I see the predicament.”
He picked up his bag and blew out a puff of air at the sheer weight of it. Deciding that the potential energy spent hefting this bag onto his shoulders versus just swinging it along in his hand wasn’t worth it, he gripped the hook strap and followed Ned to the door.
The boys walked side by side out of the classroom and towards Ned’s locker. When they got there, Peter rocked on his heels and bit at his cheeks while Ned plugged in his locker combination. Peter watched as the dial clicked to a stop, the sound scratching his brain just so. Ned opened his locker just as the hair on the back of Peter’s neck raised.
He tensed his muscles and angled himself slightly away from Ned. He wasn’t about the dodge a shove that he shouldn’t have been able to know was coming.
A purposeful hand collided with his back and Peter tumbled to the floor, breaking his bag’s zipper and causing it to spew out all of its contents.
Uh oh! Not in the plan! Web shooters! In the open! Bad, bad, bad!
Peter heard Flash mutter an unapologetic Whoops while he kicks Peter’s belongings even further out of his reach.
Peter scrambled to catch the web shooters before they were in Flash’s line of sight. He breathed out a sigh of relief once Flash walked away to his group of goons, smiling all the while.
Ned offered to help Peter stand. He accepted sheepishly and dusted off his pants.
“You okay?” Ned asked earnestly. Peter gathered his stuff from the floor and shoved the web shooters back into his bag before answering.
“Yeah,” he replied, showing Ned his scraped elbow that was noticeably healing before his eyes. “Just stings a little.” Ned looked in awe as the red marks slowly disappeared right in front of him.
Peter tried to jury-rig his bag closed when he cut his finger on stray piece of plastic from the broken zipper. He swore under his breath and tried to wave the pain away. Flash started laughing loudly from down the hall. Peter picked his head up at the sound and found that Flash and his friends were staring right at him.
“I would ask if your mommy’s gonna kiss it better, but… y’know.” Flash shrugged a shoulder, acting completely innocent. Flash’s group howled with laughter. Goosebumps spread along Peter’s arms as the memory of exactly what happened to his mother pushed to the forefront of his mind. Ned gripped his shoulder and turned them towards the exit.
“They aren’t worth the time. You know that, right?”
Peter nodded and Ned let his hand drop. Eventually, he gave up on trying to fix the bag and just held it awkwardly down by his thighs.
Peter walked Ned out to his moms car, only stopping for a brief chat with Mrs. Leeds in the parking lot. They drove away and Peter headed back towards the school. He stood by the doors and looked down towards his bag. It must’ve been something in the air but Peter itched to make sure everything was accounted for. The word everything being an interesting substitute for specifically web shooters.
Peter sat down on a concrete bench and shuffled through his bag. He did a total of three checks that assured him both web shooters were there and safe. But while he was flipping through his stuff he realized a textbook was missing. He checked again and still couldn’t find it.
He walked up towards the doors and waved at a janitor to let him back inside.
He first went to the hallway with Ned’s locker to see if he just forgot to pick it up. Peter walked up and down the hallway twice and didn’t see anything remotely textbook shaped.
He paused and looked around. Peter then retraced his steps back to Mr. Harrington’s room. The door was shut and the small window had it’s privacy screen closed. He knocked and pressed his ear against the door to see if anyone was inside. He heard footsteps and backed away.
Mr. Harrington flipped open the privacy screen and peeked through. He made eye contact with Peter and opened the door.
“Peter! To what do I owe the pleasure?” His voiced wavered a little bit as he pushed down the kickstand. It creaked obnoxiously and the sound made Peter’s teeth hurt. He gazed around the room and spotted the book underneath his seat.
“Just forgot my book. I’ll be out of here in a second.” Peter grabbed the textbook and placed it into his bag. He turned to leave but came face to face with an almost nervous looking Mr. Harrington.
“Peter? Would you mind if we had a word? I won’t be long. I’m sure you have someone waiting.” Mr. Harrington walked over to his desk and sat down. He gestured to the empty area in front of him and Peter walked over cautiously.
“I’m sure you know what I want to talk to you about, yes?” he asked pointedly. Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“I’m not sure I do,” Peter said as his face heated. Why does it feel like he’s getting in trouble? He hasn’t done anything wrong… today.
Mr. Harrington huffed and leaned on his elbows, hands clasped together.
“I really didn’t want to have this conversation with you, Peter. And it won’t be any easier on you than it will be on me, but I need to make sure-” he blathered, obviously uncomfortable with what he’s trying to say. “Please. Don’t mention your internship on this trip.” The way he put air quotes around the word internship didn’t sit well with him.
Peter’s brows furrowed even deeper and Mr. Harrington sighed.
“I know you’ve been going through a tough time since your uncle passed. And trust me, I get it. Grief is no joke. And maybe you feel like you don't have any other options, but you do. There’s no doubt in my mind that you could get an internship at SI one day. You are one of the brightest kids I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, but lying about it won’t get you anywhere. I know it may seem like the only thing that’s in your control right now, but trust me, it will get better. I know your aunt works a lot and I bet it’s hard going home to an empty house. Especially after a loss like that, and it might feel like nobody is there for you, but I am. I’m in your corner, Peter. All these lies will do is harm you in the future and I don’t want that to happen. I had to fight for you to be on this trip. So please, stop with the lying. Okay? I’m proud of you, don’t get me wrong, and I can’t wait to see what you do in the future, but don’t ruin your chances of an actual internship before you can even apply. Alright? Do we have an agreement?”
Mr. Harrington stuck out a hand for him to shake. Peter hadn’t even noticed his own tears falling. He nodded his head and stormed out, leaving Mr. Harrington’s hand hanging.
God he was mortified. His own teacher didn’t believe him about the internship! He even had the gall to play the dead uncle card.
I had to fight for you.
What other teachers hadn’t believed him? What did they say about him? Peter Parker, the liar. He’s so sick of this stupid school, and these stupid abilities, and this stupid backpack, and this stupid headache!
Peter power-walked through the halls. It didn’t matter where he was going as long as it was away. Away from that dreadful classroom. The words liar and freak rung in his ears as he pushed through set after set of doors. Brisk air hit his face and he halted, panting from rage rather than exhaustion. He furiously wiped away the last few tears on his cheeks before anyone could see them. He waited outside by the school’s entrance and looked at the parking lot, searching for Happy.
It was raining. Of course it was raining. A perfect demonstration of Peter’s sour mood. When the door shut behind him it locked, leaving him standing in the downpour. The clouds turned a darker shade of gray as his heart thudded violently against his ribs. The beat became harmonious with thunder surrounding him. It couldn’t get worse, could it?
Peter has never known when to shut his mouth.
And of course that was when Flash decided to make another appearance. Because what would Peter’s life be without a little Parker Luck?
The hairs on his neck stood up briefly before he was hit with the school door, hard. His back slammed into the brick wall and something in his shoulder crunched. Flash laughed and his too-strong cologne felt like a throat punch to Peter’s heightened senses. Flash scanned the nearly empty parking lot and snorted at Peter’s tear-stained face.
“Aw, did nobody show up for Puny Parker? Too predictable.” He moved into Peter’s personal space and spat at him, “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when we get to SI and nobody knows who you are. Just like here. Where nobody knows and nobody cares. Have a good afternoon, Penis.”
Flash clapped him on the hurt shoulder and walked away. Peter couldn't move. He didn’t want to move. Not yet anyway. Not when his shoulder throbbed and embarrassment flooded heavily through his veins.
Peter watched as Flash got into a car too expensive for him to recognize. The car sped off, leaving Peter alone once again. He peeked at the parking lot through his hair that stuck uncomfortably to his forehead, weighed down by the rain. Peter sighed and peeled himself off of the brick wall. He grabbed his bag off the ground and watched as water leaked out of it. The scuffling of shoes on pavement caught his ear and turned to see Happy looking not all that… happy.
“What the hell was that?!” he puffed.
Act dumb, Parker.
“What was what?” Peter straightened and winced at the pain shooting through his shoulder.
Not that dumb!
Happy gave him an unamused look and beckoned him to the car. Peter followed suit with his head hung low.
Happy opened his door and Peter got in without so much as a peep. Happy got into the driver’s seat and slowly started the car, waiting for Peter to start talking. He just dug around in his book bag, occasionally pulling out soaked notebooks and folders. He grabbed the remnants of his English project and sighed when it tore at his light grip and landed on the car floor with a wet plop.
Happy waited for Peter to look up but the boy was adamant on avoiding eye contact. He waited a little while longer and when Peter still didn’t make an effort to open his mouth, Happy shook his head and angled the rear view to face Peter.
“Kid, if you don’t tell me, I’m telling Tony.”
That got the gears in Peter’s mouth going.
“I mean it was nothing. It was just Fl- I mean he’s a nobody and I’ve got it under con- control and he’s just projecting cause his dad’s hard on him and- and I’ve been dealing with it y’know I mean it’s no big deal he’s just a jerk. And oh my god pleasedonttellmrstark.”
Happy looked dumbfounded. He peeled the car off of the curbside and onto the road.
“I'm gonna be honest, kid,” Happy said lightheartedly. “I did not get a single coherent sentence outta that. So why don’t you restart? Tell me what happened from the beginning.”
So Peter did.
Well, as much as he could without giving Happy ample cause to refute their agreement and tell Tony as soon as they reached Stark property.
And Happy was pissed.
“How could they not believe you!? I know for a fact that Pepper sent them all the paperwork. Do they really think a teenager is ballsy enough to forge Tony Stark’s signature? You’re kidding right? Unbelievable! And you’re being bullied? Especially a kid like you? No way. I’m sorry, kid. I gotta tell Tony.” Peter whipped his head around to face Happy.
“You can’t! And I’m not even being bullied!” Peter’s voice cracked embarrassingly toward the end. Happy grimaced at Peter’s desperate look. He pointed a finger at the rear view.
“I’m not buying that. You tell Stark tonight or I’m telling him tomorrow. Everything. Capiche?” Happy sat with his finger up and eyebrows raised, waiting for confirmation. Peter nodded and settled back down into his seat. The tower was still a good ten minutes away so Peter put on his headphones and stared out the window, watching the buildings as they went past.