Chapter Text
Peter Parker was screwed.
Looking at the signed permission slip in his hands he felt the impending doom creep up on him. This wasn’t just any field trip, this was the yearly trip his school sponsored to THE STARK INDUSTRIES, that all sophomore AP chemistry students qualified for (with the contingency that they placed within the top 90th percentile of their overall grade level of course). Him and Ned had geeked about this trip since 7th grade and had put in the work to make sure that they would both be chosen for the most notorious trip in their school, and now he can’t even imagine how this could possibly go well for him.
You see, no one knew that he was Spiderman, the rising vigilante that's been cleaning up the streets of Queens, slinging webs down the financial district, and stopping high collision accidents with nothing but the strength of his hands. Flying under the radar for the most part, with nothing but viral clips of himself on Youtube, Peter was a free man for the time being and didn’t want to find out what would happen if the Police or worse THE Avengers got their hands on him.
And trust him, they definitely were looking for him. It was everywhere, the broadcasts and news casts all reading: WHO IS SPIDERMAN, plastered all over his feed. What makes this whole situation even worse, is that the person who is leading the charge against his persona is quite literally his almighty idol and billionaire playboy, Tony Stark. Definitely not what he intended when he started dressing up as a bright red spider with handmade goggles, but hey– you can’t win them all he supposes.
Look– he understood that he was a security risk, he saw the forums on Reddit and the conspiracies on how he got his powers, and he knew, it wasn’t long until people got suspicious of the superpowered spider and his web-slinging abilities. Especially when fuelled by Iron Man himself, Peter was definitely keeping his guard up as of recent, but that didn’t mean he had to make it easy for anyone to find out his identity–right?
Wrong.
By going on this trip he was basically signing himself up to be highly monitored all day in high-tech labs with God only knows how detailed security measures, owned by the very man who wanted to find him the most.
I hate my life I hate my I hate my li—
Pulling him from his trance, “Mr. Parker!”
Mr. Warren all but shouted from his desk, “Please come put your slip on my desk today if you could” he grumbled and turned back to the black board to finish tracing Stark Industries in big chalk lines.
“S-Sorry” Peter hastily muttered, ushering himself quickly from his desk. Giggles erupted from the back of the room as Peter apprehensively placed his slip in the pile, a feeling of danger creeping up his spine, his Spidey-Senses only making him more uneasy as he sat back down.
“Dude I can’t believe we're actually going to get to see the freaking Stark Industries!” Ned squealed, his nose stuck in an informational packet on the corporation, detailing the different amenities and levels that his teacher had handed out. Peter hasn’t seen him this excited since they finished building a Lego replica of the Stars Wars Death Star last fall.
“Tell me about it,” Peter replied, slumping back in his chair, running a hand through his hair and choking down the feeling he’s sending himself to his own funeral.
“Okay class, settle down” Mr. Warren turned again, “As you know our annual tour of Stark Industries will be tomorrow, and you all are fortunate enough to have placed within the top percentage of your grade and have earned the right to go…”.
Tuning out the rest of his teacher’s spiel, Peter found himself veering his head towards the window, head in a daze and unease in his heart.
The bell rang for lunch and Peter gathered his things and turned the corner, Ned bouncing with excitement next to him.
“What do you think it’ll look like?” Ned boasted at their lunch table,
“Oh my gosh what if we meet an Avenger!?"
“You should really lower your expectations for this field trip”, MJ, who had been sketching in her notebook across from them added,
“Any prolonged time spent with Flash is sure to be miserable, but don’t worry I’m looking forward to capturing you guys when it feels the hardest to bear” She said slyly, looking up from her drawing to give a smile that said: sucks to be you.
“Earth to Parker, what’s got you looking so paranoid there champ?” Her eyes darted over to him.
Peter, who had been poking at the food on his tray, not bothering to pay attention fully to his two best friends, MJ and Ned. Sharing a look with each other before deciding there was something wrong.
“Guys I don’t know if I’ll be able to go tomorrow,” he started, “I think I’m getting sick you know…,” and as if to prove it he covered his mouth and added two coughs hoping it would be enough to convince them.
An exasperated look overtook Ned and throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulder he was quick to shoo away any hope Peter had for himself, “Dude. You’re going, it's freaking STARK INDUSTRIES!”, throwing his other arm up to show the absurdity of Peter’s statement.
I’m overthinking it anyway. No point in ruining the trip of a lifetime just because I have powers. I’ll go and keep my guard up and it’ll be fine.
No it won't.
The universe sending him a message as though his fears were rightfully felt, he's interrupted by what Peter considers to be a bad omen in circumstances:
“Yo, Penis!” Flash came up behind the group, a grin on his face that never means the interaction will be easy.
“I don’t know how you three managed to get spots on the trip, but stay out of my way when we’re in front of the Stark scientists will you”, “Not like you’ll have any time in between me wowing them with my skills, but the point still stands”
As flash said this he lifted his hand to ruffle the hair on Peter’s head. Sensing this, he couldn’t stop his reflexes from catching his wrist without even looking in the direction of his nuisance classmate. Eyes-wide Flash rips his wrist from Peter’s grasp, wiping it off on his jeans like Peter could infect him somehow. God, what Peter wouldn’t give to just finally show Flash who he was really messing with, to just wipe the smirk off his face for good. He couldn’t though, he decided early on when being given these powers, that he had a moral obligation to use them for good, to be someone who could stop the bad things from happening, and to be the change in the little corners of his community that the Avengers were too important to know about.
With great power comes great responsibility.
He told himself that any time he felt himself wanting to use his powers for anything selfish, and it would be especially wasted if he gave up his morals for Flash of all people.
“Whatever Parker, just stay out of my way will you,” Flash looks back before darting back to his table, visibility annoyed he couldn’t get under his skin.
Laying back in his bed, Peter let himself close his eyes for all but one minute. His anxiety for the coming day had taken a toll on him and even with his spidey strength he sometimes couldn’t handle it. Being able to finally relax felt good, but it’s short lived as he sits back up, swings his legs over the side of his bed and grabs his suit out of the backpack he hurled into the corner of his room. Taking a large vertical jump, he uses his left hand to stick to the ceiling of his room while pushing open the attic-style door and putting his suit in the crawl space next to the boxes of discarded Christmas decorations and old photobooks.
In preparation for his trip tomorrow, he couldn’t risk bringing his suit to the very place the man trying to catch him lived. While it did hurt a little to know that spiderman had to be AWOL for the next day, taking all the necessary precautions was pivotal to not getting caught by the building full of geniuses and their tech.
Why does it feel like I’m breaking into the freaking place!
Peter laid back down on his bed, exasperated, he let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair, feeling himself relax against his sheets. That’s when he hears a faint familiar voice protruding from the living room.
Shit.
He does his best to nonchalantly situate himself on the couch next to Aunt May. Eyes trained on the TV, he swallows the lump in his throat when he sees Tony on the screen, live from the Stark Industries Tower Press Room. At the podium, Tony Stark stands tall, next to him he is accompanied by all of The Avengers. Their demeanors are intimidating and strong as they line themselves up behind the podium Iron man stands at. A method for intimidation for sure.
Double shit.
“Oh Pete you need to see this,” May turns the TV up a little louder before adding, “They’re talking about that Spiderman guy, the one who’s been stopping all the crime around here!”
So they are talking about me!?
Why are they so adamant I’m some sort of threat?
Didn’t they see the good that Peter was doing? All the crime that he’s stopped, he doesn’t kill and he leaves all of the bad guys to the police when he’s done— Peter truly cannot grasp why Tony Stark and the Avengers of all people were so adamant about catching him…
His eyes refixate as he hears Iron Man:
"...We’re not dealing with a casual crime-fighter here. This is a grown, fully capable individual who is making a conscious choice to hide behind a mask and bypass legal oversight. The chemical tensile strength of his webbing is off the charts—it's military-grade execution in a civilian wrapper. We are treating him as a Level 3 rogue anomaly. We are tracking him, we will find his lab, and we will shut him down before his little civic experiments cause mass casualties."
His breath hitched and he tensed hoping May wouldn’t notice the change in his demeanor. With no time to formulate his opinion just yet, Captain America steps up to the microphone, camera flashes can be heard in the back as he leans forward to readjust it to his height.
"To add to what my teammate said—this isn't just about the tech or the security risk. It’s about accountability. Whoever is under that mask clearly has the ability to do a lot of good, but courage without discipline is just recklessness. When you pull on a mask and operate in the shadows, you are taking the law into your own hands without facing the consequences of your mistakes. If a hostage situation goes wrong on a roof in Queens, the NYPD has a chain of command. They have a protocol. This 'Spider-Man' answers to no one but himself."
Okay ouch.
Despite the damning evidence that his beloved idol and Earth’s mightiest heroes have him as their number one target as of now, Peter couldn’t help but grow relieved at the broadcast on the television. Because he realized that:
They think I’m an adult.
They aren’t looking for a sophomore honors student.
I can blend in as long as I lay low.
Understanding this gave him slight relief, his spidey-senses not letting him fully feel at ease ever, but it was enough to allow him to even feel a little excitement for his field trip tomorrow. It was, in fact, the trip he had been looking forward to since he was a little tween. Who cares if his idol would have him imprisoned if he knew who Peter truly was?
All he had to do was behave like a normal high school student for one day, then he could go back to worrying about Stark catching him out in the wild. Maybe he’d even get a t-shirt from the gift shop, the world was his oyster at this point.
The broadcast ended and he migrated back to his room, shutting his door Peter let out a disbelief-filled laugh and ran both hands down his face. Changing into pajama pants and an old marching band t-shirt he was filled with a new found hope for his situation.
If The Avengers wanted to be wrong about him that badly they could. If they wanted to use all their resources targeted towards a rookie vigilante and his (super awesome) tech, instead of using those resources to lower the crime that Spiderman was fighting– then fine by him. Peter would make it as hard as possible for them to track him down, and trust him, he wasn’t going down without a fight.
Shutting off the light and rolling onto his side, the Moon, shining into his bedroom and illuminating his room with a bluish hue that brought a sense of serenity to his spirit, Peter closes his eyes. A single thought is formed before he lets himself drift off—
Let the games begin.