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Pepper Potts sits at her desk, the screen in front of her flickering with countless emails. She's long since gotten used to it, the endless flood of news is as much a part of her everyday life as coffee in the morning. Emails from the company, from contractors, tour requests from curious visitors, questions that no one knows how to answer and therefore end up with her, and of course the inevitable complaints. Her fingers glide routinely over the keyboard as she opens and processes one email after the other.
Then her eyes fall on a new message. A school email address. She hardly bats an eyelid, and that's nothing unusual either, as schools often try to get tours here or ask scientists for some kind of lecture. But when she takes a closer look at the email address, she pauses. Midtown High. The school administration. Her curiosity is piqued. With one click she opens the email.
What she reads makes her frown. The text is anything but professionally written - bumpy, rude, almost disrespectful. She reads the lines a second time, more slowly this time, to make sure she hasn't misunderstood anything. No, she wasn't wrong. The anger rises within her like a hot wave.
Without a moment's hesitation or thought about writing a sharp reply to the school, Pepper jumps up from her chair. Their movements are determined, almost military. She storms out of her office, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. The elevator opens at her command and she steps in, pressing the button for Tony's workshop in the basement.
The journey seems endless, even though it only lasts seconds. When the doors open, the dull bassline of Tony's music penetrates her. FRIDAY recognizes her immediately and opens the heavy workshop door. At the same moment the music abruptly stops; after all, FRIDAY knows the likes and dislikes and behavior of the residents. And Pepper doesn't like the loud music and when she comes down it's usually very important.
Pepper's high heels click loudly and rhythmically on the concrete floor of the workshop, a sound that Tony recognizes immediately. It's the sound of anger, of urgency, of something that demands his immediate attention - after all, Pepper can walk almost silently in her shoes and only makes the clacking noise when she wants to.
Tony, who is hunched over one of his projects, slowly turns around. His hands are still busy with tools, but his eyes immediately turn to Pepper. He knows that expression. The furrowed eyebrows, the tense jawline, the sparks in her eyes, she's visibly angry.
His mind immediately switches to analysis mode. What did he do? What has he forgotten? Birthday? No. Anniversary? No, that was just now. A meeting? A date? He feverishly searches through his memory, trying to figure out which of his countless mistakes or forgetfulness got him into trouble this time.
Just as Tony opens his mouth to ask Pepper what she wants, what brought her here this late Sunday evening, the squeak of the workshop door interrupts his thoughts again. The heavy metal door swings open and May Parker enters the room.
Tony freezes. Her expression is a copy of Pepper's tense expression, perhaps even a little more serious. A thought immediately flashes through his head that makes his heart beat faster: Peter. Did something happen to the boy? Did he get injured during one of his night patrols? Why else would both women show up here on a Sunday evening, both with that look on their faces that doesn't bode well?
"What's wrong?" Tony blurts out before May can even say a word. His voice sounds sharper than intended, driven by rising concern. "Did something happen to Peter? Is he hurt? Do you need help with anything?"
May shakes her head slowly, and Tony feels a tiny knot in his chest loosen. But only a tiny one. Because now she has the full attention of him and Pepper, and the silence that follows is heavy and oppressive.
“He’s not hurt,” May begins, her voice firm but with an undertone of barely suppressed anger. “But I received a second, extremely unpleasant email from the school today.” She takes a deep breath, as if she needs to compose herself. "I was already angry on Thursday when I got the summons for tomorrow, Monday, for a disciplinary meeting with Pete. But this morning..." She pauses, her fingers tightening on her handbag. "I got a follow-up email this morning. It said they're not just going to suspend him. They're going to expel him straight from school."
Tony feels the blood drain from his face. His eyes widen in disbelief. "What? Expel from school? Peter? We're still talking about our nerdy boy with a helper complex, right?"
He looks over at Pepper, searching her face for an explanation, for anything that makes sense. But Pepper doesn't look surprised. Her expression reveals that she was expecting something exactly like this, or at least something similar.
“That fits what I got,” she says coolly, her voice cutting like ice. She folds her arms over her chest. "The headmaster accuses Stark Industries, and especially you, Tony, of taking bribes for a stupid student prank." She pauses and lets the words sink in. "And that this prank wasn't funny. That the students were said to have been mentally terrorized by it."
Tony stands there, between the two women, trying to understand what is happening. Bribery? Terrorization? Peter? None of this makes sense.
May and Tony look at each other confused. What prank is the school actually talking about? The words hang heavy in the room.
“It’s about the tour you canceled,” explains Pepper with a serious expression. "The tour where your only condition was that Midtown bring Peter on the tour. The school told me in their email that it was highly unprofessional of you to participate in such a lie and such a stupid boyish prank."
Tony's face immediately darkens. His hands ball into fists and a slight tremor runs through his body, suppressed anger that threatens to explode at any moment. His eyes narrow into slits as he fixes both women in his laboratory with an angry gaze that speaks volumes. The air in the room suddenly seems to thicken, charged with his barely controlled rage.
Pepper and May exchange a worried look. At this moment it is crystal clear to both of them that letting Tony sort this matter out with the school would probably be the worst idea ever. They can already imagine how this would end, and it definitely wouldn't be good.
"Tony," Pepper begins in a calm but firm voice as she takes a step towards him. "May and I will take care of the school. We'll handle it."
May nods in agreement and adds, "Yeah, we'll both take care of it. You concentrate on something else."
Tony takes a deep breath, his jaw muscles working. He knows they are right, even if he finds it difficult to relinquish control.
“Good,” he finally squeezes out. "But then I'll think of a cheering surprise for Peter. The boy doesn't deserve that."
Pepper and May nod in relief. This agreement seems to be the best solution for everyone involved. While the two women will take care of school, Tony will be able to channel his energy into something positive, a surprise that will put a smile on Peter's face.
Morning is breaking over New York and Pepper is already behind the wheel of her Audi. The city slowly awakens as she navigates the streets. She goes through everything again in her head: Peter arrived safely in the tower, she checked that. He's in good hands, well, at least in theory. With Black Widow, you can never be sure about the definition of “good hands.” But at least, she reassures herself, he's just studying with Natasha for his Spanish test. No dangerous missions, no superhero escapades. Just vocabulary and grammar.
She drives the car into the school's guest parking lot. The Audi is deliberately chosen to be unobtrusive, nothing that would attract too much attention. Pepper gets out, adjusts her clothes and takes a deep breath. She knows what awaits her here.
May is already waiting for her at the school entrance. The two women exchange a brief, knowing look. No words are necessary. They understand each other.
They enter the building together. They are immediately hit by the typical school smell, a mixture of disinfectant, stale air and youthful chaos. Pepper grimaces imperceptibly, May does the same. Both women survey their surroundings with visible disgust as they walk through the hallways. The walls are covered with faded posters, the linoleum floor is worn and stained. Students push past them, loud and carefree.
There goal is clear: the director's office. With determined steps they make their way through the morning crowd, both determined to get this matter over with as quickly as possible.
The secretariat is deserted, not a soul anywhere. The silence in the room seems almost eerie. On the door to the school nurse's room there is a yellowed piece of paper on which the hours are written down in craggy handwriting, as if the school itself were signaling that help is only available at certain times, extremely few times.
Pepper pulls out her smartphone and methodically begins documenting everything. Every detail could be important. The empty secretariat. The note. The atmosphere of neglect that wafts through the hallways. She takes photos, notes time stamps, collects evidence.
Then she steps in front of the heavy wooden door of the directorate and knocks. Once. Twice. Firm, but polite.
"In!" The voice that comes from within sounds irritated, annoyed, as if any disruption were a personal insult.
Pepper opens the door and politely lets May go first. The older woman enters the office with her head held high, dignity in her every movement. Pepper follows close behind, and what she sees makes her internally raise her eyebrows.
The office is... extravagant. Far too extravagant for a school director of a public institution. Dark mahogany wood dominates the room. A massive desk that looks like it could cost more than a teacher's annual salary. Leather armchairs that scream luxury. Artwork on the walls that is definitely not cheap prints. Pepper can't help but think: This money should actually go to the students. New textbooks. Better laboratory equipment. Renovated classrooms. Instead, it can be found here, in this pompous office.
The director didn't even bother to turn to them. His leather chair is turned away from them, his gaze focused on something outside the window, or perhaps nothing at all. The disrespect is palpable.
And then he starts to speak. Without greeting. Without even a glance in her direction.
“We will be expelling Parker for lying, falsifying documents and creating an unsafe school environment.” His voice is cold, mechanical, as if he is reading a verdict that has already been set in stone. "You don't need to fight it. If you do, we'll just hand everything over to the police." A short pause, then the final blow: “And you can’t afford a proper criminal defense anyway.”
The words hang in the air like a threat. Like a weapon. The director still doesn't turn around, as if he expects them to just accept and leave.
Peter's aunt knows this type of teacher at this school all too well. She's seen them talk about her, her nephew, and her financial situation many times, with only that condescending, contemptuous voice echoing through the sterile halls of the school. But today she sees something that makes her heart contract: her companion is visibly struggling to keep her composure. She can practically feel the anger rising within her, how difficult it is for her to remain calm in the face of this man's disgusting behavior towards them.
The air in the room seems to become thicker, heavier, as if it were weighing on her shoulders. The man's every word drips with contempt, his every gesture radiates contempt.
Pepper can't take it any longer. She clears her throat, loudly, clearly, unmistakably. An attempt to interrupt him, to show him that she will no longer remain silent. But the man? He just raises his hand. A casual, dismissive movement, as if he were swatting away an annoying fly. He waves her off without even looking at her. "Mrs. Parker," he says in a voice dripping with false politeness, "we will send you the expulsion papers."
The words hang in the air like a judgment, final and cold.
But the CEO of Stark Industrie won't let anything like that happen to her. She has endured the board too many times and fought her way through countless meetings in which men in expensive suits felt they had to lecture her. No, she definitely won't let a principal with an obvious ego problem boss her around. Her voice is calm, perfectly controlled, polite but without even the slightest spark of friendliness. Every word is precise. "Mr. Morita, I assume."
The man turns around in the swivel chair, confused. He literally freezes when he sees the elegant business lady in front of him. His eyes widen imperceptibly. The perfectly fitting designer clothes, the confident posture, this is no ordinary visitor. “I’ll be so kind as to introduce myself,” she continues as she takes a step closer. Her high heels click quietly on the linoleum floor. “Viginia Potts, CEO of Stark Industries.” She lets the words sink in for a moment, watching the realization dawn on his face. "I'm here because you sent me a very unpleasant email regarding Mr. Stark. And since we wanted to talk to you anyway, it seemed good to do it in person."
She gestures elegantly towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Shall we sit down?”
She doesn't wait for the answer. Why? The man first has to come to terms with the fact that he has one of the most famous people in the business world standing in his crowded office. Both women sit down synchronously on the uncomfortable plastic chairs in front of the huge, expensive office table. The contrast couldn't be greater, two women in tailored business attire on school furniture, their best days long behind them.
They both look at the director with impatient and, in Pepper's case, slightly annoyed looks. Her fingers drum almost imperceptibly on the armrest. He's still sitting there, frozen in place, still hasn't pulled himself together. The seconds drag on. Pepper's eyebrows raise ever so slightly, a silent invitation to finally get to the point.
Morita's face turns red as he tries to regain his composure. The silence in the room is almost tangible, heavy as lead. He clears his throat, strokes his tie nervously, and forces himself to look Pepper Potts directly in the eyes.
“So…” he begins with a trembling voice that he struggles to control. Peppers takes over, as he still doesn't really seem able to carry on a conversation. "Can we start this meeting? Or do you need time to regain your nerve?"
Morita pulls hisself together with all his strength. His hands briefly ball into fists before he relaxes them again. He turns to Pepper, his gaze now a little more steady, even if the uncertainty still flickers in his eyes.
"Ms. Potts," he says in a voice that aspires to authority but sounds slightly brittle. “What brings you to our school?”
Pepper's eyebrows rise slowly, almost theatrically. A quiet, disbelieving smile plays on her lips. She leans back in her chair, folds her arms over her chest, and regards the headmaster with a look that oscillates between amusement and annoyance.
“I actually thought I had already told you,” but she said it in a voice as sharp as cut glass. Every word is precise and well thought out. "I'm here because of the rude email you sent about Tony Stark."
She pauses briefly and lets her words sink in. Morita flinches almost imperceptibly. "On the other hand," she continues, her voice becoming a little cooler, "because it seems that you think my favorite intern is a liar. And apparently Tony's confirmation to two of your teachers on Friday wasn't enough."
Her eyes literally bore into Morita. The atmosphere in the room is tense.
“I’m here to clarify some things,” she explains emphatically. Then she leans forward slightly, her hands folded on the table. "Can we get started? Or do you already have questions?"
The provocative question hangs in the air like an unspoken ultimatum.
His head moves slowly from side to side, confused, disoriented. Stine's face deepens as he tries to understand what's happening. Pepper, on the other hand, nods firmly, her movement clear and determined, as if she were ticking off each individual point internally.
“Why,” she begins in a firm voice that cuts through the room like a sharp knife, “we’d best go through your reasons for excluding our Peter?” Her eyes narrow slightly as she focuses on the person in front of her. “You said Peter was lying?” There is a short pause, heavy and pregnant with meaning. The air in the room seems to be getting denser.
"I'm guessing, and I'm pretty sure I'm right, that it's about his internship with Tony." Her voice now carries a hint of irony, almost mocking. She leans forward slightly, her posture becoming even more confident. “The internship, which Tony confirmed personally on Friday.”
She lets the words sink in for a moment, carefully observing the reaction of the other person. Then she adds with a triumphant tone. “Not to mention that I duly submitted all of the internship documents months ago.”
Morita stammers uncertainly, his voice trembling slightly. “It seemed completely impossible to everyone that Parker could actually have an internship at Stark Industrie.
After all, Stark Industrie only accepts college interns, which is even a basic application requirement that seems to be set in stone. How could a mere high school student even get an internship there if he doesn’t even meet the most basic application requirements?”
He wipes his forehead nervously as he tries to justify his position.
Pepper shakes her head slowly and deliberately, her eyes fixing on Morita with a piercing gaze. A soft sigh escapes her lips before she answers in a calm but firm voice: "Peter is Tony's personal intern. And do you really want to seriously try to dictate to Tony Stark the conditions under which he can or may hire his interns?"
Her words hang heavy in the air between them.
Morita looks personally sick as she makes this suggestion to him. The color drains from his face and he swallows hard. He knows full well that no one in this world would dare tell Tony Stark anything. He desperately tries to explain himself further, his voice becoming more and more uncertain. "The internship documents... we thought they were fake. After all, Parker is smart enough to forge such documents. It wouldn't be the first time that an ambitious student resorted to such means."
His words ring hollow, even to his own ears, as he desperately searches for justification.
May flinches as if the principal's words were physical blows. Her gaze turns into an angry storm, her brown eyes sparkling dangerously. The air in the office suddenly seems to become thicker, charged with a tension that threatens to explode at any moment.
Pepper's hand rests gently but firmly on May's shoulder, a gesture of solidarity and at the same time a silent warning to remain calm. The CEO straightens in her chair, her posture impeccably professional, but her icy blue eyes fixate on the director with a coldness that makes even the air conditioning unnecessary.
“I drafted these documents personally,” Pepper begins in a voice as sharp as cut glass. Every word is articulated precisely as if she were speaking to a board of directors. “Not only do they bear the official Stark Industries watermark, but they also have my personal signature.” She pauses meaningfully, letting the words sink in. "You could have verified the authenticity of these documents with a single call. The number is right on the documents. My direct number."
Her voice becomes a shade colder. “Which you obviously didn’t.”
The director avoids the piercing gaze of the two women, his gaze nervously darting back and forth between the desk, the wall and the window. His hands tremble slightly as he struggles to find words, some justification for his expulsion. Beads of sweat form on his forehead. He opens his mouth, closes it again, clears his throat.
Before he can even formulate a coherent sentence, May's voice cuts through the silence that has fallen. She speaks with a calm that is far more threatening than any screaming, an ice-cold, controlled anger that resonates in every word.
“Would you like to explain to us,” she begins, her voice dangerously quiet, “why you didn’t immediately complain about the documents?” She leans forward, her gaze boring into the director's. "Why did you wait? Why did you wait until you could hurt Peter the most?"
Neither woman expects a remotely satisfactory answer. The question hangs heavy, more of an accusation than a real question.
The director swallows audibly. His fingers drum nervously on the desk. Finally he stammers an explanation that must ring hollow even to his own ears: "We... we let him get away with it." He clears his throat again, continuing to avoid direct eye contact. "Because we thought it was a... a coping mechanism. Because of his uncle's tragic death, you know?" His voice becomes uncertain. "And at first it wasn't really a problem. It wasn't until he told the other students about it, when the stories spread, that it became a... a disruptive factor in school operations."
He tries to sound more convincing, but his words fall flat. "But then we intervened immediately. Immediately when we realized it was a problem."
The silence that follows his words is deafening. Pepper's eyebrows raise ever so slightly, a gesture that speaks volumes. May's jaw clenches, her hands ball into fists.
May picks up on the statement immediately, her voice cutting sharply through the tense atmosphere of the office. “As soon as it became known?” She leans forward, her eyes sparkling with barely contained anger. “I know for a fact that Peter is being bullied by other students because other students made his internship known.” Every word is precisely placed, like a scalpel cut.
Morita presses around, his fingers play nervously with the ballpoint pen on his desk. He clears his throat several times before finally answering. His voice sounds uncertain, almost apologetic. He haltingly explains that they first had to get all the information, a bureaucratic dance that takes time. They had to decide whether the situation was drastic enough, whether they even needed to intervene. The words hang heavy, a flimsy justification for inaction.
Pepper pushes her strawberry blonde hair back in a slow, deliberate movement. The gesture seems almost threatening in its calm. She fixes the director with a look that seems to pin him to his chair. “Drastic enough?” Her voice is icy, controlled. “Does this include your statement that Peter is causing an unsafe school environment?”
She pauses meaningfully, letting the words sink in. The director flinches as if she had hit him.
“I would really like yours to explain this to me.” Pepper's tone is dangerously soft now, like velvet over steel. "What exactly is Peter supposed to have done? What actions, in your opinion, justify declaring a bullied child a perpetrator?"
The silence that follows is deafening. Morita opens his mouth, closes it again. Beads of sweat form on his forehead.
Now the director slowly stands up, his hands pressed firmly on the tabletop. A confident smile plays on his lips, he actually believes he can take back the helm of this conversation. His voice sounds determined, almost triumphant, as he begins to speak.
“The students keep reporting that Peter behaves intrusively and pretentiously,” he explains with a touch of self-righteousness. His eyes move back and forth between Pepper and the other people present. “It makes the other students feel bad and they just can’t handle it.” He pauses meaningfully before continuing. “In particular, showing off fictitious knowledge makes students very insecure.”
Pepper leans back slightly in her chair, her eyebrows raising ever so slightly. In a calm but firm voice, she asks him to explain in more detail what fictional knowledge this is supposed to be. Her professionalism is unwavering, but curiosity flashes in her eyes.
Morita clears her throat and tries to give some examples. His words stumble over each other as he struggles to explain the complex topic. The explanation is clumsy, imprecise, almost embarrassing in its incompleteness.
Pepper immediately realizes what's going on. The really bad, garbled explanation is nothing more than a distorted version of something Tony taught Peter. She has to suppress the grin that wants to form on her lips. Her eyes light up with suppressed amusement.
"Mr. Morita," she finally says, her voice is silky smooth but unmistakably clear. “This is not fictional knowledge.” She pauses briefly and lets her words sink in. "It's just a lot more advanced. That's what Tony taught him." Her fingers drum lightly on the armrest. “It’s something from very advanced engineering.”
The silence that follows her words is almost tangible. The confident look on Morita's face begins to crumble.
Morita's face turns red, the heat creeps up his neck and into his cheeks. He clears his throat nervously and desperately tries to find the thread of his argument that is threatening to slip through his fingers.
“Parker repeatedly provokes verbal and physical violence,” he begins in a voice that is intended to sound firmer than it actually is. His hands are clutching the briefcase on the table in front of him. "No matter what the teachers try, he just won't stop. Even school disciplinary measures show no improvement."
Pepper sits upright in her chair, her trained senses registering every nuance in the room. She feels the atmosphere change next to her. May, who has been sitting next to her quietly and in control, begins to stiffen. The anger builds in the older woman like steam in a cauldron, slowly but unstoppably. Pepper briefly considers whether she should intervene, whether she should touch Masy's arm or give her a reassuring look. But she decides against it. May has every right to raise her voice. Pepper won't hold her back.
And so it happens. May slides forward in her chair, her movement controlled but determined. When she begins to speak, her voice is icy, cold as winter frost and cutting like a blade.
“You do realize that Peter is the only one who gets hurt?” Every word falls into the room precisely and weightily. "Not to mention that you just admitted that Peter is being punished by you for other students beating him up?"
She pauses briefly, her eyes boring into Morita. “And please explain to me how Peter is even supposed to do this “provoking”? By getting good grades? By winning the Academic Decathlon for this school? By just being a normal, slightly nerdy student?”
Morita visibly squirms. His eyes avoid Pepper's piercing gaze as he fumbles his way around a clear reason. Finally he clears his throat and claims with feigned conviction that there is evidence, solid evidence, that would show that Peter was deliberately provoking the aggression.
Pepper doesn't give him a second to breathe. “Then show me this evidence,” she demands in a voice that brooks no contradiction. Her eyes flash with determination. With shaking hands, Morita places several folders on the table. Teacher reports, letters of complaint from students, a whole stack of papers intended to document Peter's alleged misconduct. Pepper takes her time, methodically leafing through each page, her expression becoming more and more skeptical.
Then she raises her head and looks directly at Morita. The school principal feels his control slipping away.
“Is there evidence that is completely objective?” she asks with icy calm. “Camera footage from the surveillance cameras in the hallway, for example?”
Morita's face suddenly loses all color. He turns white as a sheet. His fingers tighten on the arm of his chair. He knows exactly what these recordings will show, but he no longer has a choice. If he refuses now, Pepper will request a lot more material through official channels, material that he definitely doesn't want to reveal.
With a shaky voice he requests the recordings.
Minutes later both women are sitting in front of the monitor. The first video is playing. Peter walks peacefully across the hallway, his books under his arm. Then, without any warning, an eraser flies through the air and hits him in the head. Laughter in the background. The next moment he is tripped up. Peter stumbles, barely catching himself.
Pepper presses her lips together. Morita stares at the screen as if he could change what was being shown through sheer force of will.
The next shot is even worse. Peter is pushed against the lockers from behind, his head hitting the metal. Two boys laugh. One hits him in the face with the palm of his hand. Peter tries to defend himself, but is held down.
Video after video reveals the brutal truth: Peter is not the aggressor. He is the victim.
Pepper gets angrier with each shot she sees. Her hands ball into fists as she goes through picture after picture. The anger rises within her like a tidal wave that can no longer be stopped. Finally she has had enough. She can no longer remain silent.
"Stop!" Her voice cuts through the tense silence of the office like a knife. Morita flinches. "How come you never informed May that Peter was being bullied?" Her eyes sparkle dangerously. "And more importantly. Why didn't a teacher ever intervene? Some of these recordings showed teachers. Teachers! Who just looked away!"
Morita turns deathly pale. The blood drains from his face as he suddenly realizes what a monumental mistake he has made. His hands shake slightly as he tries to find words. "I... Miss Potts, I..."
“Stop!” Pepper doesn't give him a chance to excuse himself. Her voice is icy and controlled, which only makes her more menacing. "I don't care about your excuse. Now listen carefully to me. You're going to do something about it. Immediately." She leans forward, her eyes boring into his. "You will hold the perpetrators accountable. You will make it very clear to your teachers that they must actively do something about bullying. Understood?"
She pauses meaningfully, letting her words sink in before making the ultimate threat. "Or should I inform our lawyers about the disastrous situation at this school and unleash them on you? And believe me, Tony will have a very serious thing to say to you too."
The effect is immediately visible. Morita begins to row back in panic. His professional facade completely crumbles. "No, no, that's not necessary, Miss Potts. Of course, of course..." He nods hastily, agreeing to all of Pepper's conditions. Anything, really anything, just to prevent Stark Industries lawyers or even Tony Stark himself from being unleashed on the school.
The idea alone makes him sweat. That would inevitably bring the school into the press and put it in a devastating, bad light. A scandal of this magnitude would be the end of the school's carefully built reputation. That's exactly what they can't afford. Absolutely not. They need their immaculate image so that wealthy families from all over New York continue to send their children here and pay the high school fees.
"I... I will act immediately, Miss Potts," he stammers, his voice shaking slightly. He confirms to her emphatically that he will call a school meeting for the next day. There he will openly address the bullying problem, announce clear punishments and, he swears to her, he will enforce them consistently. "You have my word, Miss Potts. My word."
Both women tell him that he better really push this through before they leave and have to trust Peter to tell them about the meeting the next day.
It is in this same meeting that Peter sits the next morning, leaning slightly against Ned. The hard plastic chairs in the auditorium creak under the weight of the assembled student body. Peter feels his heart beating faster as he scans the crowd. Ned sits next to him just as nervously, his fingers drumming an uneasy rhythm on his thighs.
Both know the climate of this school well. They've experienced it firsthand, seen the looks, heard the whisper attacks, witnessed the subtle and not-so-subtle humiliations. They know that even a meeting that is supposed to protect weaker students will ultimately result in nothing, absolutely nothing, really changing. It's a spectacle, a compulsory exercise, nothing more.
And that's how it is again. Morita stands at the front of the stage, microphone in hand, and preaches with a serious face that bullying is bad and that punishment will follow. His voice echoes through the auditorium, but his words bounce off the walls like rubber balls. Peter observes the faces around him, bored looks, stifled yawns, secretly playing cell phone games.
No one in the room takes the warning seriously. Really nobody. They all know that most bullies are kids with money, kids from influential families whose parents show up at school at the slightest complaint and will simply buy their offspring out of punishment with a check or a generous donation. Or, and this is almost worse, the school simply doesn't issue any real punishments to these students in the first place. Too much is at stake: reputation, donations, the good name of the institution.
Peter sighs quietly and exchanges a meaningful look with Ned. They both think the same thing: another wasted hour. Again empty promises. Business as usual again.
Precisely because everyone is aware of this, most students don't really listen. There thoughts wander as the director's words pass over they like a monotonous noise. Some stare boredly at their shoes, others steal glances at each other and roll their eyes.
After the assembly, the crowd sweeps all the students into the hallways. The babble of voices grows, footsteps echo off the walls. Peter hurries to get away from the crowd and into the classroom. He hates this crowding, this pushing. His heart beats faster as he forces his way through the crowd.
Suddenly he hears someone screaming. A sharp, furious run cutting through the noise. Peter instinctively turns around, his spider-sense tingling slightly. Ned next to him follows his gaze, and they both see one of the tenth graders, a broad-shouldered boy with an aggressive expression, brutally pushing another, much smaller student against the locker. The metal rumbles under the impact.
The smaller student, whose face is red with fear and anger, fights back desperately. With a sudden surge of strength from pure adrenaline from fear, he pushes the bully a little away from him and wants to escape from him. His eyes frantically search for a way out. But before he can even take three steps, he is grabbed by a teacher, Mr. Harrington, who has been watching everything.
"You! Detention! Now!" the teacher shouts and grabs the smaller student by the arm. “You just heard, we won’t tolerate bullying at this school anymore.”
The boy tries to protest, to defend himself, but his voice cracks. "But he has me..."
"Don't argue! You pushed him, I saw it!"
The actual perpetrator grins maliciously and disappears unmolested into the crowd. Peter retreats into the classroom in frustration, his hands clenching into fists. He was aware from the start that the new regulation would have exactly that as a result. This absurd zero-tolerance policy punishes the victims and lets the real perpetrators get away with it. It's like a system that is obviously designed to fail.
What Peter doesn't realize as he pushes through the door and throws his backpack on the table is that Ned was filming the whole situation on his cell phone. Ned's fingers fly across the screen as he sends the video to May, along with a detailed summary of the meeting and the new regulation. He knows full well that May will pass this on to the right person, someone who can actually do something about it.
May passes the information Ned sent her on to Pepper.
May doesn't hesitate for long and also gives Pepper Ned's phone number. "If you have any further questions," she explains with a warm smile, "you can contact him directly. He is completely honest with us."
Pepper nods approvingly and immediately saves the number in her smartphone. She knows that with a project of this size, questions will inevitably arise. Being able to contact the student directly gives her a peace of mind of efficiency.
Pepper is already planning the next steps in her mind. Ned could prove to be a valuable resource, someone with first-hand knowledge of the situation on the ground. She makes a mental note to call him soon, as soon as she has evaluated the initial information and more specific questions arise.
Pepper is sitting in an important meeting, surrounded by colleagues and business partners, when her smartphone lights up. She takes a quick look at the screen and her expression suddenly changes. The message she just read doesn't make her hesitate for a second.
“Please excuse me,” she interrupts the ongoing discussion in a firm but polite voice. All eyes are on her. “I’m sorry, but we have to reschedule this meeting.”
The tension in the room is palpable. Someone opens their mouth to protest, but Pepper beats them to it. “It’s about Tony’s interns,” she explains briefly, while she’s already gathering up her documents. “There is a problem that requires my immediate attention.”
The words work like magic. Everyone present immediately nods in understanding. Nobody contradicts, nobody asks questions. They all know Tony Stark well enough to know that anything that has to do with him and his projects, even if it's "just" an intern, is an absolute priority.
“Of course, Ms. Potts,” says one of the managers, already standing up. “We’ll find a new date.”
Pepper is already on her way to the door, her heart beating faster as she wonders what exactly could have happened to the intern. The heels of her shoes click rhythmically on the floor as she leaves the conference room, smartphone firmly in her hand, ready to face the problem, whatever it may be.
Pepper sits at her desk and looks at the photo with a concentrated gaze. Her eyes scan each frame while simultaneously reading through Ned's carefully written meeting notes. The words on the screen paint a disturbing picture of the situation at Midtown High.
"FRIDAY," she says firmly, "search all social media for footage from Midtown. I need anything that could serve as evidence of ongoing bullying, and possibly worse."
“Understood, Ms. Potts,” the AI replies promptly. “Start searching.”
While FRIDAY is doing her digital work, Pepper picks up her phone and dials Ned's number. It only rings twice before the boy answers.
“Hello?” says Ned. In the background, Pepper hears the muffled murmurs of other students, apparently it's his free period.
Pepper asks him question after question about the meeting, about the new regulations, about the atmosphere at school. Ned answers each one dutifully and in detail, his voice betraying both concern and a desire to help.
Hours later, Pepper's desk has transformed into a command center. Multiple screens show various documents, videos and notes. She has methodically organized and categorized all the information she has collected so far.
And the picture that emerges is devastating for Midtown.
Numerous students uploaded parts of the meeting to their social media channels, some out of outrage, others perhaps out of defiance. There are also videos from the school hallways that document daily events. Every single video from the school hallways documenting daily events. Every single video is another piece of the puzzle that reveals the truth.
Pepper leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. A small, knowing smile plays on her lips. She knows the public, knows the media cycle, knows the game. Something like that would never have the desired effect on the same day. People need time to process information, to become outraged, to act.
So she waits. Patient. Strategically. Like a chess player who already thinks three moves ahead.
The wait drags on. Pepper still hopes to give the students and the institution a chance to improve, but this strategy fails. Most bullies are children who will never receive any punishment from school, their parents are too influential, their connections too strong. The bullying escalates every day, becoming more brutal and more targeted.
Peter once again stands between Ned and his tormentors. The fists hit him hard in the ribs and a punch lands on his cheek. He tastes blood on his tongue, but he doesn't back away. Ned stands behind him, shaking, grateful, ashamed. Peter takes on every attack that is actually intended for his friend.
Peter has to serve detention almost every day. The room is always the same: stuffy, with peeling paint on the walls. The others sit around him, mostly scholarship holders like himself, or the shy students who can't defend themselves. They are all being bullied and now they are being punished for trying to defend themselves. The injustice burns in Peter's chest, but he remains silent. He clenches his fists under the table as pain pulses through his body.
The teachers look away. The school does nothing. And the bullying is only getting worse.
The school bell rings resoundingly through the hallways on Friday. Once again the students are called together, another assembly. The young people stream into the auditorium, tired and disinterested, their footsteps echoing on the polished floor. Murmurs fill the room as they settle on the hard wooden benches.
“What’s this all about?” whispers someone in the back row.
“I don’t know,” comes the bored answer.
Nobody is really sure what today is going to be about. Most assume it won't be about the ridiculous new anti-bullying rule, this farce isn't worth a second meeting. Some guess it's another boring announcement about school rules, others guess it's some sporting event.
The students wait as the hall slowly fills up. The babble of voices rises and falls like waves. Then suddenly the murmur stops. All eyes are on the stage.
But it's not Director Morita who climbs the steps. Instead, an elegant woman in a tailored pants suit enters the stage, her heels clicking confidently on the wood. Her strawberry blonde hair is perfectly coiffed and her posture exudes authority.
A collective murmur goes through the crowd. Disbelieving looks are exchanged. Smartphones are pulled out.
Pepper Potts is standing in front of them.
The CEO of Stark Industrie personally. Here. In there small school auditorium. The students can hardly believe it. What on earth does that mean?
“Good morning, Midtown,” Pepper Potts begins in a firm, clear voice that echoes through the tense silence of the auditorium. Her eyes slowly wander over the faces of the assembled students, some curious, some fearful, others indifferent. "For those of you who don't know me. My name is Pepper Potts." She pauses briefly and lets the words sink in. “I am the CEO of Stark Industries, and I need to speak to all of you today about an extremely important topic.”
Her gaze moves further, grazing the rows of young people before moving to the teachers who stand like sentinels on the walls. Their expressions are impenetrable, but Pepper can sense the tension in the air. Finally she fixes her gaze on the director, who is sitting in the front row. His face has turned pale, his hands are gripping the arms of his chair.
“I was here on Monday morning,” she continues, her voice becoming a touch sharper. "I had an... insightful conversation with your director." A cold smile crosses her lips. "Some of you were supposed to have been given an exclusive tour of Stark Tower last Friday. An opportunity not many are afforded." She lets the information sink in, watching as some students sit up and listen, while others put their heads together in confusion.
“But this tour was rejected,” Pepper says, her voice becoming icy. "And know why? Because your school, this educational institution, decided to exclude Tony's personal intern from the tour." The outrage in her voice is not feigned. “A brilliant young man who more than deserves this opportunity.” She takes a deep breath and collects herself. “So on Monday I had to contend with the fact that this school obviously favors rich families and wealthy students.” Her eyes sparkle dangerously. “While anyone who cannot invest money in this institution is systematically disadvantaged.”
The silence in the room is now absolute. You could hear a pin drop.
“But that’s not all,” Pepper adds, her voice becoming quieter but all the more insistent. "During my visit on Monday, I was shown footage. Footage from the security cameras in your hallways." She pauses meaningfully. “This led me to learn that there is quite a bit of bullying going on here, in these hallowed halls of education.” Her eyes become hard as steel. "And no one is punished. No one intervenes. No one protects the weaker." The words hang heavy in the air, an indictment that cannot be ignored.
The students look at each other nervously. An uncomfortable silence spreads across the auditorium. Especially those who have had to spend time in detention over the last week because they are being bullied seem lost and afraid. Their eyes dart uncertainly around the room, as if they were looking for an escape route. Some of them hunched their shoulders as if to make themselves small enough to become invisible.
The bullies, on the other hand, sit back and relax. They are sure that nothing will happen to them. A smug smile plays on there lips. After all, the school would never do anything against its donors, it has always been that way and it will remain that way. At least that's what they believe.
Pepper Potts stands at the front of the stage and slowly lets her gaze wander through the crowd. She sees the arrogant expressions of some of the students, the confidence that radiates from every pore. At the same time, she notices the others, those who look at her in fear, whose eyes seek help, hope. The difference between the two groups is easy to spot, almost painfully obvious. The arrogant bullies are all obviously rich kids: designer clothes, expensive watches, the latest smartphones. Your attitude screams privilege. The victims, on the other hand, appear to be largely scholarship students; their clothing is simpler, their body language more defensive.
Everyone in attendance expects Pepper to give an anti-bullying speech. The usual slogan: “Be kind to each other”, “bullying is wrong”, “we are all a community”. Some of the bullies are already rolling their eyes in boredom. But Pepper knows that this probably won't help here. Words alone have never changed anything here, not in this kind of school, not with children like this. So she did something different with Tony. Something concrete. Something with consequences.
She clears her throat and her voice cuts through the hall like a knife. "Stark Industries spoke with the school board and the school authority. After learning from our interns that bullying has not improved one bit since my time, it has only gotten worse." A break. She lets the words work. "Because of increased bullying rates, both institutions have been convinced that schools need to get new monitoring systems. Midtown has already installed these since Wednesday, you should act as sample and proof. Proof that bullying is still an ongoing problem that needs to be addressed."
A murmur goes through the crowd. Heads turn, glances are exchanged. Pepper gives them a moment before she delivers the decisive blow.
“And what we already have on camera after just two days,” her voice becomes harder, more unyielding, “would be enough to close this institution immediately.”
The auditorium becomes completely silent. The silence is so absolute you could hear a pin drop. Everyone is shocked. Their faces turn pale. The bullies' self-confidence crumbles like a facade. They knew nothing about it, no one had warned them, no one had told them that they were being watched. And now they realize that trouble might be coming their way. Real trouble. Trouble that even there parents' money may not be able to protect them from.
Pepper stands in front of the assembled school, her demeanor calm and professional as she begins to explain. "I want you to understand how the system works," she looks across the room, "The recordings are checked by a person from the school authority, but only when an incident is reported. If you think it would be enough to pay the supervisors to say nothing, this is wrong. Anyone, including students and parents, can report this and every report will be followed up." She pauses for a moment to make sure her words are heard.
Some students exchange nervous glances. Pepper continues: “All recordings are stored normally for three months.” She emphasizes the time period emphatically so that it doesn't get lost. “They will then be archived.”
The silence in the room is almost tangible. Then Pepper nods slowly and makes a welcoming gesture towards the door. “You can go back to class now,” she says, her voice just a shade softer.
The students hesitantly get up from their seats, collect their things and move towards the exit. Some take one last look back at Miss Potts, who stands there watching them as they leave the room one by one and return to their classrooms.
There is whispering in the hallways. Small groups stand together everywhere, their heads together, their eyes wandering nervously over the ceilings and walls. Finding the new cameras is not that easy because they are really tiny, but they are still the number one topic of conversation. Some students point up excitedly when they actually spot one, others seem worried, almost paranoid.
Peter and Ned make their way through the crowd. They have their backpacks firmly on their shoulders, placed extra tightly, and try to get to the classroom as inconspicuously as possible. But fate is not kind to them today.
“Hey, Penis Parker!” Flash Thompson's voice trembles with anger through the noise. Before Peter can react, he and Ned are intercepted by Flash and his gang and roughly pushed against the lockers. The cold metal presses into Peter's shoulder blade. “Dirty Penis, is it your fault that we are now being monitored like lab rats?” Flash stands in front of him, his eyes dark with anger. His friends form a semicircle around them, blocking any escape route.
Peter looks around. The students stop and watch everything. Once again he becomes the center of unwanted attention. And obviously they don't really believe Pepper's warning or haven't fully realized it yet.
"What makes you think that, Flash?" Peter's voice sounds calmer than he feels. "How was I supposed to get Pepper Potts to do something like that?" He tries to sound reasonable, even though he knows reason rarely works with Flash.
The answer comes quickly and painfully. Flash swings, his fist hitting Peter hard in the ribs. The pain explodes in Peter's side and he has to hold himself together not to wince. His Spider-Sense had warned him, but he couldn't avoid it, not here, not in front of all these witnesses.
The students around them watch the scene with a shocking indifference. Some look up briefly, shrug their shoulders and move on. Others remain standing, but no one intervenes. You've seen all this so many times that it's no longer really surprising. Flash Thompson beats Peter Parker, just another Friday at Midtown High.
Ned stands helplessly by, his hands clenched into fists, but he also knows that any intervention would only make the situation worse.
A hand places itself firmly on Flash's shoulder and jerks him away from Peter. The movement is determined, unyielding.
“Didn’t you just listen to me?” Pepper's voice cuts through the air like a blade. Her eyes sparkle with anger as she stares at the boy. Every word has icy precision.
“Eugene Thompson, I assume?” She briefly turns her gaze to Peter, who nods silently, before she turns her full attention back to Flash.
"So, Eugene..." She says his name like it's a bitter taste on her tongue. "I actually thought that my clear advice about the cameras would be enough to improve the situation here. But apparently..." She pauses meaningfully. "Apparently I have to agree with Tony. Some people are truly and truly unteachable."
Her demeanor becomes even stricter, more professional. "Young man, now that we have gathered more than enough evidence that clearly shows that you are not just a simple bully, but resort to physical, severe violence..." She lets the words hang in the air. "We can request these recordings at any time. And we will sue you." Flash stares at the woman in front of him, his face running through a palette of emotions, shock, disbelief, then rising panic. He stammers, his voice uncertain: "You... you can't just sue me just because I touch one of my classmates." He struggles to regain his composure, desperately trying to regain his self-confidence. “You would need a direct connection to the person.” A cheeky grin spreads across his face, as if he thought he had found a loophole.
Pepper shakes her head slowly, almost pitying his naïvety. "First of all..." She raises a finger. "Anyone can file a criminal complaint. That's your first misunderstanding."
“Secondly…” a second finger follows. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do in the next few minutes.”
“And thirdly…” her voice becomes even more decisive, every word a hammer blow. "I'm Peter's mentor. And I'll be very, very happy to provide him and his Aunt May with our entire legal team to sue you to the last dollar in civil litigation."
With every word Pepper utters, Flash's confident demeanor fades like snow in the sun. His grin fades, his shoulders slump, and fear flickers in his eyes.
Virginia places her hand gently on Peter's shoulder and carefully leads him down the long corridor to the office. Her footsteps echo softly on the polished linoleum floor. Peter follows her in silence, his eyes lowered, while the usual school chaos rages around them, students rush back and forth between the classrooms, doors slam, voices mix into an indefinable carpet of noise.
When she arrives at the office, she speaks quietly to the secretary behind the counter. The woman with the horn-rimmed glasses nods understandingly and types something into her computer. Peter's signing off for the day is therefore fine. The lady doesn't ask any questions as Pepper presents documents from May Parker so she can take Peter out of school.
On the way back to the tower, Peter sits in the passenger seat and watches the cityscape go by. His fingers play nervously with the hem of his shirt. Finally he breaks the silence.
“Is... is school really that bad?” he asks in a hesitant voice, almost a whisper. His eyes remain focused on the road, as if afraid to look into her eyes. For Peter, what he experienced was nothing out of the ordinary. It is his everyday life, his normality. He doesn't know any different. The idea that other children would be treated differently, that school could also be a safe place, is beyond his imagination.
She gives him a quick, concerned sideways glance as she drives on. The tower is already looming on the horizon, a familiar sight that promises safety. Waiting there is Dr. Cho is already anxious to document Peter's injuries before they inevitably heal too quickly.
On Monday morning, Peter pushes open the front door of the school and steps into the busy hallway. He immediately notices a difference to everyday life here, the atmosphere is completely different than usual. Students everywhere are standing together in small groups, their faces pale, their eyes wide open. It's like someone has pulled the rug out from under them.
Confused, the spider hero makes his way through the crowd. What's going on here? The conversations around him are hushed, almost whispering. Nervous looks dart back and forth. Peter feels an uneasy feeling spreading in his stomach.
He reaches his classroom and collapses into the chair next to Ned. His best friend is already sitting there, his shoulders tense.
“Hey, Ned,” Peter whispers, leaning over to him. "What's going on here? Why does everyone look like the world has ended?"
Ned turns to him, his eyes wide but still serious. “You really haven’t heard?” He lowers his voice even further. "Many students received letters. Cease and desist notices. And some...some even received actual punishments." Peter's eyes widen in disbelief, after all he hadn't noticed anything about it in the tower over the weekend.
Peter watches his classmates all day long. It's the same picture at every break, in every classroom. Nervous faces, whispered conversations, anxious looks. The otherwise lively school seems to be under a dark cloud.
The last two school hours are canceled. Instead, all students are called into the auditorium. Peter follows the stream of students as they slowly move toward the assembly room. The murmur is deafening to him.
The headmaster stands at the front of the stage with the teachers, their faces are serious. When everyone has sat down, the announcement begins. So many students have to take anti-bullying courses that it was considered sensible to offer them directly in school. The words echo through the room. Peter looks around and notices some students flinching, others just staring ahead in silence.
For the rest of the school hours, the course participants are divided into groups, while those who do not have to study in a corner.
After a few weeks, students notice a noticeable change. The atmosphere in the school hallways has changed; it has become quieter and more peaceful. Going to school in the morning no longer feels like running the gauntlet. The oppressive tension that was in the air just a short time ago has dissipated.
Slowly but surely, the students who spread rumors or bullied are beginning to fully realize their mistakes. They seek out their victims and apologize, some genuinely mean it, others just say it to get it over with. But the course management coldly showed them all how bad bullying can really end up. Something the school had actively kept quiet about until now.
Peter is also suddenly at the center of this wave of apologies. Classmates keep coming up to him. Their faces show remorse and shame. They apologize for the lies they spread about his internship, for the stupid posts they shared on social media without thinking. They apologize for the insults they hurled at him, for the hurtful words they spoke so carelessly.
Peter listens to them. The apologies come from all sides. Some stammer awkwardly, others speak in a firm voice. But the same thing resonates in all of them: understanding. You slowly begin to understand.
The school is slowly turning into a place where Peter can finally breathe.
Flash is the only one who never apologized to Peter. But he didn't expect anything else. It's one of those truths that he's long accepted. Deep down, it doesn't really bother him, maybe because he knows that some people won't change. Or maybe because fate already has its own plans.
Before winter break, Flash simply disappears from school. From one day to the next his place is deserted and his loud voice from the hallways has fallen silent. The other students whisper and speculate, but no one knows exactly what happened.
Until Pepper tells Peter the truth.
She sits across from him at the table in the penthouse, her voice calm and professional as she explains to him that Flash is facing both criminal and civil charges. The words hang heavy in the air between them. Criminal law. Civil law. These terms make Peter pause and he slowly seems to realize that Flash was more than just a simple school bully.
In the civil proceedings, Peter and May are awarded a considerable sum, compensation that is so high that at first Peter cannot believe what he is hearing. May wants to invest all the money for him, for his future, for college. But Peter insists she keep a part. It takes some convincing, but eventually she gives in.
The criminal procedure is even clearer. Flash is convicted of several counts of assault. The judge reads the verdict in a firm voice. Youth punishment, anti-aggression courses, community service. Peter sits in the courtroom and watches Flash slump, the reality of his actions finally sinking in. It's not a triumphant moment for Peter. Just a quiet, heavy conclusion to a dark chapter.