Chapter Text
“We have been given a very special opportunity this year. We will be going to Stark Industries for an all-day tour!” Mr. Harrington announced. Peter froze in place, mouth hanging open slightly. “Your guardians have already remotely signed all NDAs and paperwork necessary in order to surprise you, so if you will just follow me we’ll head out to the bus.”
“Oh my gosh, Peter! This will be so cool! Do you think we’ll get to meet the Avengers? What about Mr. Stark? Dr. Banner?!”
Peter was tempted to tell Ned his secret right then and there. Ever since Aunt May had died, he had been living with Tony Stark, who they had discovered even before Aunt May had died was, in fact, his biological father. The Avengers were like family to him, “Mr. Stark” was his goddamn father, and he worked regularly with Dr. Banner in the lab.
“Maybe…” he muttered instead. MJ studied him closely from where she sat a few feet away.
“Maybe we’ll get to see the labs! SI is SO COOL. This is going to be epic!” Ned exclaimed.
SI was his home, and he was practically training to be CEO of it one day. He sometimes took over meetings for his parents, (usually his dad) and most receptionists and employees knew him, or at least knew of him enough to respect (and fear) him.
Peter Parker and Peter Stark were nearly identical, except for in one area; confidence. Peter Stark was his father’s child, to be sure, and the moment he stepped into SI shy, overly polite Peter Parker was cast off. SI was his company, his building, his domain.
“Yeah. Epic,” Peter tried, attempting to fake enthusiasm. He knew this was the end of all the lies, the pretending, the normality. Maybe Flash bullied him, but at the same time he was accepted by people his age without an ulterior motive, or NDAs to be signed. He could only hope they wouldn’t hate him for lying, or worse: try to be his friend.
“Dude, what is up with you? You were more excited to visit Oscorp than this, and SI is twenty times cooler! Do you think they’d give us internships if we impressed them? That would be INCREDIBLE.”
“Mr. Parker, Mr. Leeds, please follow the class outside,” Mr. Harrington directed, cutting in. They muttered apologies and stood, shuffling out behind their classmates. They boarded the bus, getting as close to the back as possible. MJ sat in front of them with Betty Brant, who turned around to talk with Ned while MJ sketched in her notebook and Peter attempted not to have a panic attack. His phone vibrated in his pocket and Peter pulled it out, opening the text quickly.
Irondad: hey kiddo are you ok?
Irondad: your vitals are all over the place
Spiderkid: stressed
Spiderkid: I’ll be ok ;)
Irondad: K
Irondad: If ur sure
Irondad: text me if u need anything
Irondad: love you kid <3
Spiderkid: you too dad
Peter switched off his phone and shoved it back in his pocket. The brief distraction had calmed him greatly and brought him back to Earth. He would be fine. He had his family, he had Harley and Shuri, and he was pretty sure Ned and MJ (at least MJ) wouldn’t care that his family was literally the Avengers.
Peter put his headphones in and clicked on his favorite playlist. He then leaned his head against the window and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the music began to play.
He was roused from his sleep by Ned, who shook him gently and whisper-yelled to wake up. Mr. Harrington was calling for quiet, and the bus was fully stopped in front of Stark Industries.
“Alright, when we head inside we’re going to gather outside the metal detectors to the right. Stay with the group at all times, otherwise, as it’s been made clear several times, you will wait in the lobby with a security guard for the rest of the trip,” Mr. Harrington warned. “Same goes for any other rule breaking. The tour guide will go over the rules once we’re inside. You’ll be given one-time security badges that you’ll give back at the end of the tour to prevent future reprinting if you get a job or are invited back for any reason.”
Mr. Harrington directed them off the bus, getting off last to make sure there were no remaining stragglers. Peter dragged his feet as he shuffled down the aisle. He attempted to stay in the middle of the group, closely surrounded by his classmates as they entered the lobby. His face was recognizable, even on the lower floors, but he reasoned that they couldn’t call him out if they didn’t realize he was there in the first place.
Just because it was inevitable didn’t mean he wasn’t going to subconsciously attempt to delay the reveal.
Their tour guide, a bright intern he had met briefly a few times before — Ryan, Ron? Peter didn’t remember — called them over to where he stood to the right. He introduced himself as Ryan, then went over the rules — no touching classified papers, projects, etc., respect the worker’s spaces, and, most emphasized, no bullying.
They were then given their security cards, displayed via cards hung on red and gold SI lanyards. Ryan handed Peter a lanyard minus the card and Peter subtly clipped his own card to it. Nobody noticed, too engrossed with inspecting their own cards.
Peter didn’t use his card all that much — it was more for show than for any practical purposes, as FRIDAY automatically recognized his biometrics and gave him full access to the tower.
They were told to put their bags in bins like at the airport, scan their cards, and go through the metal detectors. Of course, FRIDAY could detect if anybody was harboring contraband, but his dad preferred not to use up her resources with menial tasks like scanning tour groups.
“Right, well, the machine will announce your first and last name and clearance level as you scan it and pass through,” Ryan informed them. Peter sighed. Even his subconscious little defense tactics couldn’t help him now.
Ryan Rollings, Level Orange Three; Abe Brown, Level One Purple; Eugene Thompson, Level One Purple; Sally Averil, Level One Purple; Betty Brant, Level One Purple; Charles Murphy, Level One Purple; Michelle Jones, Level One Purple; Ned Leeds, Level One Purple; Peter Classified-Parker, Level Three Gold
Everyone did a double-take as the machine announced Peter. Ryan broke into a grin.
“Peter, I didn’t realize you were here today! Is this your class?” he inquired.
“Academic Decathlon,” Peter corrected. “They don’t know, in case you were wondering, but I don’t think there’s any point in keeping it under wraps since they’ve signed NDAs, so go all-out if you feel like it. Anyways, please do continue.”
His class gaped at him, minus MJ. She simply smirked, and he figured that she may have deduced that something like this would happen. MJ always knew.
Ned looked baffled, and Peter knew that the moment the tour continued he would be covertly grilled.
“Of course,” Ryan said, “and if you have any additional information, please feel free to interject.” Peter nodded affirmation and Ryan returned to the matter at hand: running the tour. “First we‘ll be checking out the SI-slash-Avengers museum. You’ll be given some time to look around before I formally show you the history of SI timeline. Please follow me.”
They headed towards the tour elevators, kept separate from the general bustle of SI pedestrian traffic. Mr. Harrington, who had previously been distracted talking to the receptionist about who knows what, rejoined them as they continued on their way.
“Dude, what the hell was that?” Ned hissed. Peter cringed.
“Uh. I… may have forgotten to mention. But I work here. At SI. Surprise?” he tried, knowing very well that he sounded lame.
“Dude, what do you mean you work here? Are you an intern?” he demanded. The rest of the class wasn’t listening, instead focusing on Ryan, who was regaling them with tales of work at SI.
“Not exactly. I was… but then I got promoted. A lot. I’m kinda well-known around here and —“
“PETER!” someone bellowed across the lobby. The entire tour group stopped in its tracks.
“There is no way they’re calling for Parker of all people —“ Flash scoffed quietly.
“Yes, Amanda?” Peter asked the short, petite Asian woman who had come sprinting towards him.
She skidded to a halt, out of breath, and thrust a stack of papers haphazardly stuck on a clipboard at him.
“I thought I’d have to send them digitally to you and wait for you to fax your signature over at lunch, but I just caught sight of you and these really urgently need to be signed. Could you do that real quick?” she asked. He took the papers, skimming them briefly.
“The weapons contract? But I already told them— where is the military representative?” he demanded, anger beginning to cloud his face. His class was looking at him like he had sprouted an extra head — since when did Peter Parker get angry? — but he paid them no mind.
“Conference room 12B, Sir,” Amanda replied. The class now turned their gaze to Amanda. Sir?
Peter turned sharply to Ryan. “Either we detour or I split. I don’t care which, but you need to make a decision.”
“If you really meant it with your offer to go all-out, I think we’ll be detouring. The museum can wait – I want to see this.” Peter nodded, then began leading the group towards one of the main elevators. They trailed behind, Mr. Harrington’s protests being quietly negated by Ryan as they went. Amanda accompanied them, seeming similarly eager to discover how this would play out. The decathlon team’s faces were almost akin to lost puppy-dogs, though Flash was closer to an angry pug. They entered the elevator, which was luckily empty enough to accommodate the fairly large group’s unexpected presence.
“FRIDAY, take us to level five, priority one, override: Mini-Boss Mode,” Peter instructed, not even flinching at the somewhat embarrassing override code.
“Override accepted.”
The elevator shot upwards at surprising speed, shocking his classmates. The workers appeared unperturbed, as if large groups of teenagers commandeered the elevator fairly often – which, though only Peter, Ryan, and Amanda knew, actually was a relatively regular occurrence, especially when Shuri and Harley came to visit.
“Please do not enter the conference rooms. Ryan, do whatever you want with them. I will be occupied for a short while, please do not interrupt. I will return shortly,” Peter informed them, then strode down the hallway and barged through one of the doors, closing it rather loudly behind him. There was a moment of silence before Ryan spoke.
“Come on, follow me. This is going to be epic!” he exclaimed, ushering them into the room beside the one Peter had entered. It was small, just big enough to fit them all, and the only attraction seemed to be the one-way glass that looked in on the adjacent conference rooms. Peter was standing at the head of a long table occupied by several old, important-looking people in military uniforms, his voice clearly able to be heard through the wall.
“SI has informed you multiple times, through Tony, Pepper, myself, and multiple memos that we are no longer active in the weapons industry. We are well aware that you have received these memos and messages and understand them loud and clear.” He slammed his hands on the table, leaning forward. “Yet, you continue to pester, harass, and waste our time with hundreds of requests for weapons. The sheer audacity you must possess to continue wasting our time like this is frankly astounding, and I will no longer tolerate such childish behavior from heads of military such as yourselves. We will say this one more time, and one time only: We will not supply you with weapons any longer, and if you continue to request we do so, we will release a press statement detailing the events that have transpired here.” He straightened, tugging on his academic decathlon blazer as if to straighten it. “We’re done here.”
He strode out of the room, just as prideful as when he first burst through the door. Ryan ushered the group back into the hall, where Peter rejoined him. He didn’t have to endure any questioning; his classmates were borderline terrified of him at this point. Only Ned and MJ weren't afraid to speak to him.
“Nice one, Loser. Didn’t know you had it in you,” she commented passively, a smirk just barely showing on her lips. Meanwhile, Ned appeared to be having a mental breakdown.
“Who are you? What did you say you do here, again?” he demanded, running his hand through his hair. His eyes flickered from Peter, to the ceiling, to his classmates, the floor, and to Peter again.
“Just Peter. And yes, that is a very good question, but it’s a bit hard to explain. I think it will become apparent later on.” Ned just stared, looking emotionally drained. Peter felt bad, but also knew it was necessary and it would all work out later on. Amanda proudly dumped the stack of papers, clipboard in all, into the nearest recycling bin, and Peter couldn’t help but smile a bit at her enthusiasm.
“Alright, let’s head to the museum."