Chapter Text
Flushing, New York
3:30 pm
Friday, 22nd April 2016
It was a warm spring day. The sun was high, but there was a storm brewing in Danny’s stomach as he sat on a park bench; leg bouncing impatiently. His eyes kept scanning the crowd for any familiar faces. But there were none. These morons would be late to their own funeral if they could.The longer he waited, the more frayed his nerves became. This was an important job. Probably the biggest they’d ever gotten. If they messed it up because two idiots couldn’t pick which shirts to wear, oh lord help him there would be no late funerals.
Finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity of teeth grinding, Tweedledee and Tweedledum decided to show. The two guys - Jorge and Mateo stood panting in front of him as if they’d just run a marathon. He let out a breath of relief when he saw the black duffle bags containing the all-important cargo.
He’d worked with them on multiple occasions. They were good. Efficient . But they could never arrive on fucking time. Probably did it just to annoy him, the rascals.
“What took you so long!?” Danny barked.
“The news- did you see?” Mateo gasped, ignoring his question.
“No Mateo, I did not see the news. I had more important things to worry about. Like, you know, the job?!
“No no you don’t understand,” he urged. “Stark’s gonna be at the Expo.”
Danny’s stomach dropped. “ You’re kidding. That show off always likes to make an entrance on the last day. That was the whole reason we picked today!”
“I don’t know man,” Jorge shrugged. “Some bullshit about a high school science exhibition.”
Danny ran a hand down his face in frustration.
“Should we-?” Mateo began.
“No,” Danny cut in. “We continue as planned. He is expecting us to deliver today. We can’t mess it up. Not this one.”
Both men opened their mouths to protest but Danny held up a finger to stop them.
“Just shoot up some civilians. Keep him busy. Make sure he has other things to worry about so that we can get what we came for.”
Jorge and Mateo glanced at each other before nodding grimly. Killing people wasn’t their usual style. But they were professionals - or what could be passed as professionals in this line of work. They didn’t get this stint by being soft hearted. If it meant getting the job done, they would do it.
Anything to get the job done.
Stark Expo
4:35 pm
Peter was so late. He was so freaking late. It wasn't even fashionable at that point.
He and Ned were huffing and puffing carrying a massive crate between the two of them, as they all but shoved their way through the crowd gathered outside the Stark Expo; “I’m sorry’s” and “excuse me’s” and “coming through’s” thrown in every direction. Peter was infinitely grateful to Ned for helping him carry his science project through the hellscape known as New York rush hour. Though to be fair, the contents of the project were quite indestructible. But that’s beside the point.
They made their way towards the back entrance reserved for participants, as Peter tried not to sweat through his t-shirt. Both from the heat and the anxiety of having massively screwed up the most important day of his life before it even began.
And that was partly due to his sleep schedule that was currently in the gutter. Well, actually no. He’d gotten a solid 8 hours of sleep every night for the past month or so. Yet, every day he woke up feeling like he’d been run over by a truck. Was it the mattress? Probably not. Stress from school? Eh…maybe.
But he’d decided to at least catch up on some sleep that afternoon. Peter really wasn’t hoping to meet his idol looking like death warmed over. He was already armed with his god given awkwardness; he did not need to add sleep deprivation to the mix.
But then his 60 minute nap turned into 4 hours.
And he still felt like he hadn’t had a wink of sleep!
Which left him and May scrambling around the apartment in a frenzy, trying to get him ready for the Expo; but not really accomplishing much other than running around like chickens. Somehow, May managed to push him out the door in record time with an urgent call to Ned to meet him at the station.
Finally, the two of them managed to lug Peter’s project to the back entrance at way-too-late o’clock. A line of walk through metal detectors greeted them. Though knowing Stark Industries, they could probably detect his rising cortisol levels right alongside any potential bomb threats. They passed through one without any issues before Peter was eclipsed by a man in a black suit.
“Hold it,” He said.
Peter looked up to see a stern face that was incredulously paired with the name tag - ‘Happy Hogan’ underneath the job title ‘Head of Security’.
“All the participants came through 30 minutes ago,” he continued. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m a participant too, Sir!” Peter dropped the crate to scramble for his ID. When he showed it to him, the happy guy only grunted in response. He jerked his chin towards Ned.
“What about you? If you don’t have an ID you can’t go through this gate.”
Peter looked over at Ned and saw him stiffen. There was no way he was going to let his friend get pushed aside when he came all the way here just to help him. He opened his mouth to protest, but Ned must have already sensed what he was about to say.
“It’s fine,” he said, addressing Peter. “We’ll just meet inside okay?” When Peter still hesitated he pushed him towards the doors. “Dude, just go already!”
“You sure you’ll be ok?” Peter glanced at Happy whose impatient tap tap tap of his shoe was getting louder and louder. Ned just grinned and gave him a thumbs up.
He walked up the stairs and through the support columns that encircled the exposition; and stood there for a moment to just…take it all in. He’d been here once before, when he was 8. However the memories of the Expo had been greatly overshadowed by a rogue iron man suit trying to attack him. Thankfully, Tony Stark had swooped in to save him just in time.
It could hardly be considered a first meeting, but Peter liked to think it was.
Standing there now, he could see right out the other side, where a long pool led to a massive globe structure. He remembered Ned telling him it was called the Unisphere.
Hordes and hordes of people spilled in through the columns. More were loitering around on the grass outside. Inside, on the centre stage there was a moving holographic presentation of their latest helicarriers and aircraft. Stairs curved around both sides towards a raised viewing deck. Around the stage there were several circular, raised platforms displaying the Mark 3, Mark 7 and the Mark 42 Iron Man armours. To his left was a vast display of the latest Stark Tech. From the latest StarkPad’s, to drones, HoloTables, some really advanced augmented reality tech and… was that an Arc Reactor powered sports car?
Peter would have loved to simply stand and gawk at all of these. Unfortunately his destination was towards the right. He quickly started pushing his way towards the digital display that read ‘Young Innovators Expo’, and in smaller words underneath - ‘Organized by the September Foundation.’
It was a special exhibition held for the selected high school prodigies from across the country. When Peter had submitted his entry, he truly had no hopes of actually getting selected. I mean, talk about a pipe dream right? Competing against every wannabe inventor kid across the country? Forget about it. Peter knew he was smart. But not that smart.
But he did get selected. And here he was.
There were definitely very many teary hugs of celebration in his apartment that day. And to top it off Tony Stark was going to come look at all of their projects? Well, he could die happy now. What more did he need in life? He’d already made it.
But the rising dread was definitely putting into question the initial excitement. And he had no one to blame but himself. He could see the student’s exhibit. His panic-filled mind could barely make out what the different projects were, but he recognised an empty spot near the end of the row as his.
He glanced towards the start of the row and…oh god. He was there. Tony-freaking-Stark was there, talking and laughing with the students. And was that…? He groaned. Pepper Potts too?! They should have gotten Colonel Rhodes as well while they were at it!
And slowly but surely the two of them were making their way towards his table that was as barren as the Sahara desert.
Ohgodohgodohgod. This can’t be happening. Peter was nowhere near ready. He had to hurry the fuck up if he didn’t want his idol to be greeted with an empty table. If that happened he would just crawl into a hole and die thank you very much.
His adrenaline filled mind must have blanked at some point, because he could barely remember what happened later. In a few quick strides he’d managed to make it to the table with his name on it. Come on come on come on, he chanted over and over in his mind as he fumbled with his crate. His hands were practically a blur as they scrambled to assemble his project. And within a record breaking 2 minutes (during which he barely breathed), his project was ready and assembled for viewing.
Thank heavens he somehow managed to make it on time. They were only a few tables away now. He tried to get his breathing under control; his heart still beating like he’d run half a marathon.
Now all he had to do was wait. And hope he did not supremely embarrass himself .
***
If you told Tony Stark a few years ago that he would voluntarily spend an evening of his life looking at a high school science exhibition , he would have probably laughed in your face. Then proceed to bury his elbows into his latest project, whilst sipping on what was probably his tenth cup of coffee.
Times changed however. And so did Tony.
Ok, well. Pepper had to take some credit he supposed. He may have become more responsible(?) and mellow over the years; much less likely to get black out drunk or recreationally ignore board members' calls. But that did not mean he would not prefer to be doing the previously mentioned activities on any given evening. (The tinkering and the coffee that is)
So it would not be an understatement to say Pepper had pretty much dragged his ass out here. Muttering about it being good PR or some such. Since when did he care about PR?
But he indulged her anyway. This was his Responsible™ era after all.
However, he was pleasantly surprised by the creativity and innovation displayed by these kids. They had managed to come up with some truly interesting stuff. There was a kid that had made an EEG headband so he could play video games with his mind. Another girl had gene spliced a strawberry to make it taste like a tomato. (He spit it out immediately. Too tomatoey) And one kid had even made something that looked like a really advanced potato gun. Though he’d named it something a lot more fancy of course. He couldn’t help but grin at the memories it brought up.
The last booth however…He raised an eyebrow.
On the table were two robotic arms facing each other. It reminded him of his own beloved nuisances - DUM-E, U and Butterfingers. And almost hidden by the big robots was a scrawny kid that looked like he was about to vibrate into the next dimension.
Oh. I see how it is, he thought. Those eyes shining with a mix of admiration and awe. Those robot arms that were an obvious nod to his own that he’d made during college.
This kid is a super fan.
While both Tony Stark and Iron Man never had a shortage in that department, he was never one to pass up stroking his ego some more. He flashed a blinding grin.
“What have we here Mr-?” He glanced down at the name tag. “Parker.”
“Good evening Mr Stark sir! And Ms Potts! I’m Parker- I- I mean Peter.”
Tony could see the kid physically cringe at his own fumbling. To his credit he moved on like nothing happened. He scrambled with a few buttons and the arms whirred to life.
“I’ve designed these miniaturised versions of a high payload articulated robotic arm.” He said, patting one of the machines. “Each arm can pull with up to 1 tonne of force. Together, they can create up to 2 tonnes of tension.”
Tony whistled, “Pretty impressive kid. You know I myself made something quite similar once, when I was your age. Which is to say, this was an excellent choice for your project. Following in my footsteps and all that.”
“Oh uh…” The kid laughed awkwardly. “This isn’t my project. It’s just there to demonstrate my actual project.”
Oh?
He exchanged a glance with Pepper who looked equally surprised.
“Well? You’re killing me with all this suspense.” Tony raised an eyebrow.
“Yes! Uh…” Peter grabbed something small from under the table. He opened his fist and Tony saw they were some kind of pellets, filled with a white coloured substance.
He attached one to one of the arms and pressed a button.
A thin white threadlike material shot out of the pellet and just stuck to the other arm. Some kind of adhesive thread?
“Bio cables,” Peter explained. A smile was slowly creeping up on his face as he geared up to present his work. Tony could tell he was the kind of kid who could rant for hours about something he liked but couldn’t make small talk to save his life.
“It’s a bio engineered polymer inspired by real spider silk.” He fiddled with the controls on both the arms and the machines started to pull. Really pull. It stretched to about twice its size before pulling taunt. Tony’s eyes just about bugged out of his head. If those arms were really pulling with 2 tonnes of tension as the kid had said, that cable should have snapped instantly. Yet it was still holding on. And one of the ends was attached by nothing more than its own stickiness.
Tony had seen great many insane inventions in his life; his name stamped on most of that list. But this thing definitely made the top 5. Something made by a snot nosed teenager no less.
But Peter wasn’t done. Of course he wasn’t.
He tapped the taunt thread with a finger. “This has the tensile strength of about 2.0 GPa, it’s tougher than steel or Kevlar, can stretch up to three times its size without breaking and is about ten times lighter than steel of the same strength. Beyond that it’s also biodegradable, biocompatible- meaning it can be used for medical purposes and also thermal stable. Which means, unlike thermal resistance, it can stay stable under sustained heat without breaking down or reacting. Oh, and it’s also non corrosive.”
Tony let out a disbelieving laugh. He was left speechless. And that was saying something.
“Are you sure you’re not some kind of mad scientist kid?” Tony laughed, “Because I feel like that’s something I should know about.”
“What he means,” Pepper translated, “Is that your project is the most impressive one we’ve seen today. You should be extremely proud of yourself Peter, you have an amazing future ahead of you.”
Pepper smiled encouragingly and the kid turned as red as that girl's strawberry-tomato. He spluttered out a bunch of thank you’s.
“You know kid if-,”
Tony was cut off by a sudden shrill scream that cut through the air like a knife.
Then another.
And another.
Tony felt ice run down his neck as he turned around to see the entrance.
And watched helplessly as the massive unisphere crashed to the ground.