Chapter Text

Heros sometimes die

The cafeteria TV was usually just noise.

Most days, it played the local news with the volume turned low enough that no one cared unless there was a snow warning, a subway delay, or footage of something exploding within five boroughs. Peter had gotten pretty good at ignoring it. He could ignore the scrape of chairs, the smell of overcooked broccoli, Flash laughing too loudly three tables away, and Ned explaining why building a Lego Death Star counted as “a long-term investment in emotional stability.”

But then the reporter said Tony Stark. Peter stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. Across from him, Ned froze too. His eyes went huge behind his glasses. “Dude,” Ned whispered. Peter turned toward the TV.

The screen showed a serious-looking news anchor, and beside her was a picture of Tony Stark in sunglasses, smiling like he had just said something annoying and knew everyone was going to quote him anyway.

“Today marks one year since billionaire industrialist Tony Stark was last seen alive,” the reporter said. “Stark disappeared on  his way to a private event in Manhattan. Hours later, his vehicle was recovered from the Hudson River, severely damaged. Despite extensive searches by law enforcement and private investigators hired by Stark Industries, no trace of Stark himself has been found.”

The cafeteria noise changed. Heads turned toward the TV. Someone at the next table said, “Wait, is this about Iron Man?” and someone else hissed, “Shut up, I’m trying to hear.”

Peter lowered his fork back onto his tray. He had seen the footage before. Everyone had. The black car being pulled from the Hudson, water spilling from the open doors. Police lights reflecting off the river. Reporters standing in the cold saying mystery and presumed and no official confirmation.

Back then, it had not felt final. It had felt like the beginning of some huge Tony Stark thing. Like he would show up two weeks later with a tan, three broken ribs, and a story so classified he would tell it at a press conference by accident.

“After a lengthy legal process,” the anchor continued, “and with no confirmed sightings or credible evidence of survival, a New York court has officially declared Anthony Edward Stark deceased.” Peter stared at the screen. Deceased sounded fake. Too adult. Like if someone said it with enough paperwork behind it, it became less awful than dead.

“Stark Industries released a brief statement this morning confirming that Obadiah Stane, longtime business partner and former mentor to Stark, will serve as acting CEO until Stark’s will has been read and the company’s future leadership is determined. Stane is expected to address shareholders later this week.”

That made the cafeteria louder. The whispers spread fast, table to table, like somebody had dropped food coloring into water.

“No way.”

“My dad said he saw something online that Stark is hiding in Europe.”

“That was fake. That photo was from, like, 2008.”

Flash’s voice cut across the room. “I’m just saying, billionaires fake their deaths all the time. That’s, like, rich people 101.”

Peter hated that Flash sounded like he was joking, because Peter kind of wanted it to be true. Ned leaned forward, lowering his voice like they were talking about classified Avengers-level information instead of sitting in a cafeteria next to a trash can that smelled suspiciously like old milk. “Peter.”

Peter finally looked away from the TV. Ned looked upset. Not crying or anything, but he had that stunned look he got when something from their shared nerd universe suddenly became real in the worst way. Peter did not have an answer, so he picked the answer he wanted.

“He’s not dead,” Peter said.

Ned blinked. “They just said he was declared dead.”

“Yeah, legally. That’s different.”

Michelle, who was sitting at the end of their table with a book open beside her tray, looked up. She had looked completely uninterested five seconds ago, which meant she had probably been listening the whole time. “Legally dead is usually a pretty bad sign.”

Peter frowned. “Not always.”

Michelle raised her eyebrows. “Name three examples.”

Peter opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked at Ned.  Ned, loyal but useless in this exact moment, made a face like he was buffering. “That one guy,” Peter said finally. Michelle stared at him. “From that documentary.”

“Great. Rock-solid.”

“I’m just saying,” Peter said, lowering his voice because everyone was still talking and because somehow saying it quieter made it feel less childish. “It’s Tony Stark. He could be on some secret mission.”

Ned nodded immediately, latching onto the idea with both hands. “Yes. Exactly. Like spy stuff.”

“Right. Spy stuff.”

Michelle looked between them. “Tony Stark is not a spy.”

“He knows spies,” Ned said.

“That is not the same thing.”

“He has a flying weaponized robot suit,” Peter argued. “That kind of expands the skill set.”

Michelle closed her book around one finger to save her place. “If he were alive and secretly on a mission, they would not put the entire company at risk. People work there. A lot of people. Jobs, health insurance, rent, families. You don’t throw that into chaos for dramatic effect.” Peter opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

That was the annoying thing about Michelle. She could take something Peter really wanted to believe and poke it with one sentence until all the air came out. Ned looked at the TV again. “Maybe Stane knows. Maybe he’s covering for him.”

“Maybe,” Peter said quickly.

Michelle shrugged, but not like she was being mean. More like she did not want to lie just to make them feel better. “Maybe. But then they are all rich assholes, because that would be risky for a lot of people.” Peter looked back at the TV. They were showing clips now: Tony Stark waving at an event, Tony at a press conference, Tony grinning behind a microphone while a room full of reporters looked annoyed and entertained at the same time.

Ned pushed his food around with his fork. “He was, like, our guy.”

Peter nodded. He knew exactly what Ned meant. Tony Stark had built the future in public. He made being smart look loud and messy and cool. He built robots and impossible suits and said things adults hated, which automatically made him even cooler. He was proof that one person could build something in a cave, or a lab, or a garage, and change the world so hard that everyone had to deal with it.

On the TV, the segment was ending. The reporter’s voice softened into the practiced tone of a closing line. “Anthony Edward Stark was forty-one years old.”

A photo of Tony appeared again.

Anthony Edward Stark, 1970–2017.

The dates looked wrong.

That was what made it feel bad in a new way. Dates belonged on history slides and grave markers. Not under Tony Stark’s face on the cafeteria TV between a stock market update and an ad for car insurance.

Ned was quiet too. Michelle looked down at her book, but she did not open it. “He saved a lot of people,” Ned said after a moment.

“Yeah,” Peter said.

“And he built the suit.”

“Yeah.”

“And the arc reactor.”

“Yeah.”

Ned nodded like this was all evidence in an extremely important case. “Then I agree with your theory.”

Michelle looked at him. “What theory?”

“That he is not dead,” Ned said. “He is on a mission.” Peter looked at him, grateful in a way he could not really say out loud without making it weird.

Michelle sighed and finally opened her book again. “You two are going to be impossible about this, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” Peter said.

“Definitely,” Ned corrected.

Michelle glanced up. “For the record, I hope you’re right.” That surprised Peter enough that he looked at her. She shrugged, eyes back on the page. “I’m not a monster. I just understand paperwork.”

Ned pointed at her. “That is exactly what a paperwork monster would say.”

Michelle did not look up. “Keep talking and I’ll eat your birth certificate.” Peter laughed again. It was small, and sadder than before, but real.

The cafeteria noise rose around them as the segment changed to something bright and stupid about car insurance. People started talking louder again. Someone knocked over a carton of milk. A teacher told a group of freshmen to sit down. Flash started telling anyone who would listen that Tony Stark definitely had a secret bunker under the ocean, which annoyed Peter mostly because that was not even a terrible theory.

The world kept going.

Peter hated that a little.