Chapter Text
It was just after 7AM when Peter's alarm buzzed, though he was already awake.
He'd gotten into the habit of waking up early, ever since the web-slinging nights started. This morning was no exception—he'd been out past midnight, stopping a mugging in Brooklyn and helping an older woman find her lost dog on the Lower East Side. Not exactly headline-worthy material, but Peter wasn't doing this for the attention.
He stretched, yawned, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then tiptoed into the kitchen. May was already up, nursing a coffee and scrolling through the news on her tablet.
"Morning, Pete," she greeted, barely looking up. "Want me to make you something?"
Peter smiled gently. "I'm alright. I'll grab something to take with me."
"Suit yourself. You've got about ten minutes before you miss the bus."
Peter scarfed down a piece of toast, grabbed his backpack, and double-checked the secret zipper compartment where he kept his web-shooters. He always took them with him—just in case. The suit itself remained hidden in a duct behind his bedroom wall.
The walk to Midtown High was familiar, almost routine now. Crowded sidewalks, honking cabs, the occasional shout from someone who definitely needed anger management. All of it was part of Peter's daily backdrop. But under the mask—under the surface—he was someone else. He was helping. He was doing good. And for once, it felt like he was managing it all.
School came with its usual chaos: Flash being obnoxious, teachers rushing through content, and MJ pointing out every grammatical error in their textbooks like it was a personal hobby. Ned was waiting at Peter's locker, excitedly waving a half-built LEGO Iron Giant in Peter's face.
"You still coming over after school?" Ned asked.
"Totally," Peter said, stuffing his books into his bag. "Just not for long. I might have some... plans later."
"Spider-stuff?" Ned whispered, eyes wide.
Peter hushed him. "Keep it down, man."
Peter had tried to keep the Spider-Man stuff from Ned but Parker luck struck against him. He had forgotten about some plans he had made with Ned after school and Ned had come over to wait for Peter in his room. Just to Peter's luck, Ned had caught him sneaking back in through his window sporting a wound from his previous fight with an attempted robbery.
Peter tried to deny it, but it was clear he had been caught in the act. Ned had become part of his Spider-Man support system following that, he became his guy in the chair and someone to keep a look out for him in case he had any more medical emergencies. It took a bit of the pressure off of him, knowing he's not in it alone.
Classes flew by. Peter aced his chem quiz, dodged Flash's attempts at humiliation, and helped MJ figure out a stubborn physics equation she insisted was wrong on principle. Everything felt good. Normal. Balanced.
And then came sixth period.
A knock at the door. Ms. Warren leaned out into the hallway, nodded, and then looked at Peter.
"Mr. Parker, the principal would like to see you."
Peter blinked. His classmates gave the usual "ooooh"s like he'd been caught cheating on a test. He frowned, confused but not concerned, and made his way to the front office.
Principal Morita was waiting, smiling in that "this isn't a bad thing" kind of way.
"Peter, have a seat," he said, motioning to the chair across from his desk. "Relax. You're not in trouble."
Peter sat, one foot nervously tapping the floor.
"We've been reviewing candidates for Midtown's entry in this year's Stark Foundation Regional Science Fair."
Peter's heart jumped at the name.
"The judging panel's going to be... well, let's just say you'll be in the company of some pretty esteemed scientists. Possibly even some from Stark Industries themselves. And your teachers all unanimously put your name forward."
Peter blinked. "Wait—seriously?"
"You've got the grades, the record, and the brain. You're a shoo-in. So, congrats. You're on the team."
For a second, Peter forgot how to speak.
This was big. Huge. Not only would it be a chance to really flex his inventions without the whole Spider-Man angle, but Stark Industries? He might meet someone from Tony Stark's actual team. Maybe even the man himself. He shook that last thought off, there was no possibility that Tony Stark would have the time to attend in person.
He walked out of the office with a dazed smile, barely registering MJ's snarky "did you finally get expelled?" as he returned to class.
Peter slipped back into class just as Ms. Warren was erasing the whiteboard. He ducked into his seat beside Ned, who was already leaning toward him with a suspiciously expectant look.
"What was that about?" Ned whispered. "You okay?"
Peter hesitated, then leaned in. "It was about the science fair."
Ned's eyes lit up. "No. No way. You got in? The Stark Foundation one?"
Peter gave him a subtle nod, grinning. "Apparently, I was nominated. Principal Morita said I've officially made the selection."
Ned nearly exploded with excitement, shaking Peter by the shoulders like a soda bottle. "Dude! That's insane! That's, like, Nobel Prize-adjacent! Stark people might actually talk to you!"
"Shhh," Peter hissed, waving him down. "Don't tell anyone, alright? I don't want Flash turning it into some weird competition, or MJ roasting me for selling out to corporate science or something."
Ned nodded with faux solemnity. "Got it. Top secret. Stark-level clearance only."
Peter couldn't help the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Ned's excitement was contagious—and even if he was trying to keep it low-key, part of him was definitely buzzing.
The rest of the day flew by in a blur. Peter couldn't focus on much beyond the idea of what was coming—what he might be able to build, the chance to showcase something that wasn't strictly Spider-Man-related but still him.
When the final bell rang, Peter and Ned parted ways outside the school gates. "Come by later," Ned called. "We'll brainstorm ideas!"
"Will do," Peter said, already pulling out his phone to text May.
By the time he reached their apartment in Queens, the sun had begun to dip low across the buildings. The door was unlocked, like always, and the smell of pasta sauce drifted through the hallway. He just hoped to himself that she wasn't somehow finding a way to burn it this time.
May popped her head out from the kitchen when she heard him shut the door. "Hey, there you are. Dinner's gonna be ready soon—how was school?"
"It was good, probably better than good-" Peter dropped his backpack and kicked off his shoes. "Actually... I've got some news."
May raised a brow, drying her hands on a dish towel. "Good news?"
"Good news- I think. I got selected for this science fair. The big one—the Stark Foundation regional thing."
May's eyes widened. "The Stark Foundation?"
Peter nodded, pulling out the packet Principal Morita had given him and handing it over. "Principal Morita said there's going to be people from Stark Industries there. Scientists. Engineers. Big-deal types. They're even providing materials if we need them for our projects."
May sat at the kitchen table, flipping through the forms with an impressed whistle. "Peter, this is amazing. This could open some serious doors for you. Do you know what you want to make yet?"
"Not exactly," Peter admitted, sitting beside her. "But I've got a few ideas. I wanna build something cool, but... y'know, low-profile." Nothing that screams 'this was inspired by a guy who can crawl on walls.'
May gave him a quizzical look but didn't press further. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be great. Want me to help you fill these out?"
Peter nodded, sliding the documents closer. It felt good to have her involved. She wasn't just the adult who paid the bills—she was May. The one person who'd stood by him no matter what. The last family member he had after losing Ben.
As they sat together, filling out emergency contacts and project preferences, Peter felt that rare, fleeting sensation of calm. Of control. Of normal.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, for just a second, he let himself wonder...
Maybe things didn't have to fall apart this time.
The next morning was a blur of homework, coffee that was way too strong and bitter, and May forcing a granola bar into Peter's hand on the way out the door.
"You have to eat something that isn't vending machine garbage," she said, holding the bar like it was a legally binding contract. "You're a growing genius. Feed the brain."
"Yes, ma'am," Peter said, grinning as he stuffed it into his backpack.
By the time he reached school, Midtown High was already buzzing with early-morning chatter. Peter slipped into his seat in homeroom just as Ned did, plopping down beside him with the kind of energy only someone who didn't spend their nights web-slinging across the city could have.
"Okay," Ned whispered excitedly, leaning in. "I did some digging. I've got a list of past winners of the Stark Fair, and get this—last year's winner got offered a summer internship. Like, paid. That could be you, man."
Peter blinked, part of him thrilled, the other half immediately anxious. "Yeah, I mean... it'd be cool," he said carefully, avoiding the weight that word Stark suddenly carried.
The more time Peter had time to sit on the idea of being around Stark Industries and the possibility of Tony Stark himself, the more anxious he began to get. Meeting Tony Stark would be a dream come true, he'd been a huge Iron Man fan since he was a kid. He remembered going to the Stark Expo with May and Ben when he was a kid. The moment he discovered his interest in science, he became a huge fan of Tony Stark himself.
Except back then, Peter wasn't hiding a huge secret that could get him into serious trouble. Tony Stark is smart. What if his involvement with Stark Industries and this project gets him caught for being Spider-Man? He couldn't risk being found out. Not by Stark or the Avengers.
Ned frowned. "You okay? You've been getting more and more weird about this since yesterday. This is literally what we talked about back in, like, sixth grade. Genius inventors, making our own thing, going pro."
Peter gave a tight smile. "Yeah. I know. It's just... a lot."
The truth was, Peter had been out late again the night before. There'd been a break-in at a bodega near 74th, and a car chase that nearly landed him in the East River. His suit still smelled faintly like engine oil.
"I just don't wanna get too noticed," Peter added, more to himself than Ned.
Ned nodded slowly, picking up on the subtext. "Right. You mean... because of the other thing."
Peter glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "Exactly."
Ned leaned back in his chair, voice low. "Well... you're doing good work. As Spider-Man, I mean. You're helping people. Even if you don't want the attention, you kinda deserve it."
Peter didn't answer. He appreciated it—he really did—but he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in his gut. The Stark Foundation was huge. If anyone was gonna notice something strange about Peter's tech or his ideas, it'd be them.
And if Tony Stark—the Tony Stark—ended up showing up in person...
No. He wouldn't. Right?
Peter shook it off.
That afternoon, he stopped by Ned's place after school. The Lees, Ned's parents, welcomed him with their usual cheerful nods and a tray of dumplings they insisted he take "for brain fuel."
By the time they got to Ned's room, Peter had already inhaled half the tray and was licking sauce off his fingers as he dropped onto the floor, papers spilling out of his bag.
"Okay," Ned said, closing the door and dramatically tossing a notebook on the carpet. "So, hear me out. Power converters—overdone. Compact drones? Cool, but might get us flagged by Homeland Security. But what about—wait for it—a modular AI assistant. Like JARVIS, but, you know... not JARVIS. 'Cause copyright."
Peter chuckled, flopping onto his back. "So basically Alexa with homework help."
"Exactly," Ned grinned. "But cooler. And less creepy. Maybe."
Peter stared up at the ceiling, his smile fading just a touch. "I don't know. Maybe we should keep it simple. A solar charger? Portable energy storage?"
Ned paused. "You're worried about drawing too much attention, huh?"
Peter sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. I mean, if this thing gets any kind of notice from, like, real scientists, they'll start asking how I figured some of this stuff out. I can't exactly say, 'Oh, I got it from reverse-engineering Stark drones I accidentally webbed to a lamppost.'"
Ned smirked. "You did do that once."
Peter pointed at him with a dumpling. "And I barely got away with it."
They sat in silence for a moment, papers scattered around them like puzzle pieces, their half-sketched ideas blurring with old snack stains and coffee rings.
Ned finally said, "You know... you don't always have to be Spider-Man."
Peter blinked. "What?"
"I mean, yeah, the suit's cool, and saving people is amazing, but you're still Peter Parker. You're still you. And you're allowed to do stuff like school fairs. Or science projects. Or hang out and eat dumplings with your best friend without worrying about every siren you hear out the window."
Peter looked at him, genuinely touched. "You really think that?"
Ned gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, statistically speaking, no, but emotionally? Yes."
Peter laughed, full and real this time.
"Thanks, man."
"Anytime, dude. I'm your guy in the chair, remember?"
Peter reached for a pencil and started sketching again, this time with a little more focus. "Alright. No drones. No AI. No vigilante red flags."
Ned nodded. "Low-key genius. We can do that."
They spent the next hour tossing around ideas, half-building, half-goofing off, talking about everything from science tech to which superhero would win in a fistfight ("Thor, obviously," "No way, Bruce Banner as the hulk could take him.").
It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't flashy—but it was the kind of day Peter needed.
No swinging off rooftops. No criminals. Just best friends, science plans, and dumplings.
For now, it was enough.