Peter felt a smile split his face as he looked up, loose teeth beaming as the toddler held out the cookbook, pressing his finger against one of the laminated pages. "Dis one!" He babbled out cheekily.

Mary felt a laugh bubble out of her chest as she reached down, plucking the almost three-year-old out of his chair and holding him against her side. She gently wrapped her hands around the book and examined the page. "This is roast turkey pot pie, sweetheart."

"Yeah!"

"We don't even have turkey."

"Yeah!"

Mary let out another laugh as she lowered her head, rubbing her nose against the boy's, Peter letting out a giggle as he pressed his tiny hands against the side of his mother's face, a large grin splitting his face.

The woman set the toddler back down onto the ground and turned back to the pantry. "Alright, let's see if we can actually find something suitable to eat, huh?" She smirked, her smile faltering as she gazed at the poorly stocked closet. A small sigh escaped her lips as she glanced at the dented cans and numerous boxes of colorful cereal.

Peter glanced up at the woman and noticed her smile wasn't there anymore. He didn't like that. He liked happy Mommy. Happy Mommy made him smile.

The three-year-old gazed into the pantry. There was something in here that was making Mommy sad. As he scanned the small closet, his eyes fell upon the cereal boxes resting on the floor, where he could easily reach them. On the covers, there were many different mascots, each smiling happily as they stared back at the toddler.

Peter giggled. His cereal friends would make Mommy happy. He pushed past his mother's legs and grasped one of the boxes, holding it out to her. "Bweakfast soup!" He cheered, pushing the box up against his mother's knees.

Mary gazed down at the boy in surprise before a humored look appeared on her face. No matter how many times she tried to explain it, the boy just never seemed to be able to grasp the concept of "cereal". To him, it would always be "breakfast soup". She guessed in a sense he wasn't too far off. It kind of was like soup...

"Breakfast for dinner, huh?" She asked aloud, taking the box from her son's hands.

Peter jumped up. "Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Mary laughed, leaning down to blow a raspberry on Peter's cheek, the boy giggling maniacally as she did so before pushing away, ready to help his mommy.

"Alright, why don't you go and get me the eggs from the refrigerator?"

 

---

 

Monday - March 7, 2016

E Eighth Avenue Local line - en route to Midtown

06:35 a.m.

Peter awoke, not with a gasp, but with a moan as his eyes slid open. The last whispers of his dream tickled his ears as they drifted away, dripping past his eyes as the warm kitchen was replaced with the cold neon lights of the packed subway car. The smell of stale coffee and cheap perfume wafted around the crowded space, making Peter's eyes nearly water at the pungent, overwhelming smell. Someone shifted closer to him. He scrunched up tighter in his seat, leaning closer to the wall.

He turned his head away from the crowd and pressed his forehead up against the cool glass window, the heat radiating from his body making the surface fog up ever so slightly as sweat trickled down his temple. An unsettling prickling sensation tingled down his arms, like an electrical current coursing through his veins, a familiar feeling that arose whenever he dreamed of her.

Peter didn't like to dream about her.

He licked his dry lips and let out a soft groan as he felt a headache bubbling in the back of his mind, something he just knew was going to bother him for the rest of the day. Great.

A low rumbling met his ears as a familiar twinge of pain shot through his stomach. The boy winced and wrapped an arm around his torso as his body protested.

Peter liked to consider himself fairly strong-willed when it came to staving off his hunger pangs. He had accepted the feeling of never having a full stomach, used to the constant aching thrums that were always present, no matter how much he ate. It was never enough.

Still, he never passed up the opportunity to at least try to fill himself up as best he could. And realizing he probably couldn't wait until school like he'd planned, Peter reached down to his backpack sitting between his legs, zipping it open to reveal the apple he'd stashed away.

It wasn't anything spectacular. A browning fruit with dark red skin and a small bite taken out of the side. Sandra had thrown it away this morning, apparently realizing she "wasn't in the mood for apples" after she'd already taken a bite.

Peter hadn't hesitated in fishing it out of the trash can when nobody was looking.

Ignoring the poor state the fruit was in, he took a small bite out of the side. The growling of his stomach urged him to inhale the thing as fast as possible, but he knew he had to make this thing last, considering it was the most food he'd probably get until dinner, unless of course, Ned packed him an extra sandwich, which he usually did despite Peter's protests.

The teen was quickly jolted from his thoughts as he felt the subways pulling into the station. Rising up from his seat, he slung the backpack over his shoulder and crumpled up the paper bag, tossing it into the trashcan next to him.

Reaching behind him, he grasped his hoodie and pulled it up over his head, effectively shielding his face. Just how he liked it. He glanced down and grimaced slightly at the dark marks running up and down his arms. They were still fresh. He quickly tugged at the bottom of his sleeves and pulled them down to cover his wrists. Muscles tensing as he slid and bumped past people with the occasional squeak of apology, Peter stepped off the car and began to quickly walk through the crowded station.

The many people pushing and shoving past each other made the boy's fingers twitch nervously as he instinctively began to fiddle with the ends of his jacket sleeves, pulled them up over his hands as he tried to draw as little attention to himself as possible. Luckily for him, his small stature allowed for him to basically slip through the sea of masses unnoticed.

It was only a short walk from the station to the school, but long enough to allow the teen some time to mentally prepare for what lay ahead.

Midtown School of Science and Technology.

Peter's safe haven.

it wasn't glamorous to say the least. The halls were crowded and noisy, the work was tedious and the occasional taunt from Flash was always something he could look forward to. But at least it was something...somewhere to go that wasn't home, and that was enough of a reason for him to love it.

At school, the people around him were strangers, uncomfortable presences, but they weren't threats. He wasn't in a constant state of panic and fear, looking over his shoulder or straining his ears to listen for the sound of footsteps coming down the hall towards his room.

At Midtown, Peter was uncomfortable, sure. But he wasn't afraid.

Slowly trudging up the steps, he wrapped his hand around the handle and yanked the door open. Around him, kids milled around like ants running through a colony. There were people loitering by the bathrooms, kids huddled on the floor surrounded by piles and piles of unfinished homework, girls standing around tapping away on their phones, boys sitting against the lockers leaning side to side as they tried to beat the final stage in their games, couples pressed into the corners as they kissed, seemingly oblivious to the mess of students around them.

Yep, typical morning.

It wasn't hard to spot Ned. As usual, he was sitting down on the floor next to Peter's locker, finger swiping against the cracked screen of his phone as his dark hair hung down over his eyes.

Peter felt a genuine smile form on his face as he approached, Ned perking as he caught sight of him. The chubby boy grinned and stumbled to his feet, shoving his phone in his pocket as he stretched out a hand, Peter doing the same as they commenced in their traditional handshake.

"How'd your weekend go?"

"Terrible. I had to go to Kayla's soccer game. I don't know who created a ten and under division for little girl's soccer, but they must have been mental cause it literally made me want to rip my eyes out just to feel something."

Peter cracked a grin at Ned's usual exaggerated manner of speaking. He tried to ignore the way his friend's eyes traced over him, lingering on his covered arms. Ned knew what that meant. The boy didn't comment, though. Instead, Peter leaned in a little closer. He'd been itching to tell Ned his latest development for the past three days. After all, Ned knew everything there was to know about him.

Ned reached towards his backpack and pulled out his water bottle. "So what about you? Anything interesting?" He popped the cap and took a swig as Peter grinned.

"I'll say. On Friday, when I got home, Tony Stark was at my house."

The boy's eyes grew wide and he doubled over as he gagged, coughing up water as it leaked down his nose. Peter blinked down at him with large eyes before glancing around with a sheepish smile at the onlookers currently giving them strange glances. He turned back towards Ned and reached out a tentative hand, only for the other boy to lurch forward and nearly come nose to nose with him. "Peter Parker, I know you didn't just say what I think you just said."

"I-"

"Tell me you didn't say what I think you just said!"

"Well, I-"

"Speak these words and confirm to me that-!"

"Ned!" Peter grabbed onto the teen's jacket, pulling him closer. "Stop talking and let me explain," he laughed, watching the boy continue to stare at him as if he'd just started glowing bright pink.

"W-well...what did he want, man?!"

Peter opened his mouth, only to pause as he felt the words get lodged in his throat for a fraction of a second. So maybe there was one tiny little thing that he'd forgotten to mention to his best friend.

"He, uh...h-he came by to offer me an internship at Stark Industries...?"

Ned didn't know about Spider-Man.

For a second, Ned said nothing, just continued to stare at him with eyes larger than dinner plates and for a moment, Peter was afraid the boy was about to call him out on his lie. But before the fear could truly manifest, Ned was pawing at his arms, leading Peter to shy away and try his best to defend himself from the onslaught of excited jabs.

"You got an internship at Stark Industries?!" Ned screeched, slapping Peter's shoulder with each shouted word.

Peter couldn't keep the smile off his face as he tried to block his friend's pawing. "Would you calm down? And maybe try shouting a little louder. I don't think the football team heard you."

"Oh, they definitely did. And probably the cheerleaders too."

Both boys turned away from their current impromptu battle as the newcomer sauntered up.

She had dark caramel skin and thick, long, curly brown hair tied up into a messy ponytail that left numerous curled strands dangling before her sharp amber eyes. "So does this explain why you weren't at the Decathlon meet on Saturday?" She quirked a brow and threw him a pointed look.

Ned threw him a sidelong smirk, to which Peter elbowed him in the shoulder and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Y-yeah, sorry about that, MJ. I...I meant to text you guys, but we were...k-kinda busy. Plus this was sorta out of the blue, you know?"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "Whatever, nerd. It's fine. Though I assume this won't get in the way of any more of our meets?"

The boy held out his hands in assurance. "No, no, no! Don't worry about that. The internship's only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so Tuesday and Thursday are still free for practice." He explained hurriedly.

MJ regarded him for a moment before deciding his answer was satisfactory, giving a small nod of her head.

Letting out a small internal sigh of relief, Peter watched as Michelle bopped her lunchbox against the side of Ned's head and moved her hand in a "shoo" motion, the other boy hurriedly stepping out of the way of her locker, which was right next to Peter's. Hence how the two of them had met.

It had only been around eight months since the two of them had met Michelle, right around the start of the year. And while they weren't as close as Peter and Ned were, going off of a four-year friendship, the three of them seemed to find themselves in each others' company more times than not, especially considering Michelle's role as head of the Decathlon team.

Now, apart from Ned, MJ was one of the only people Peter talked to at school, one of his only friends...at least he thought they were friends. It was hard to really get a read on the girl.

"Got to say, I'm mildly surprised you're interning with Stark Industries and not with your dad's company." She pointed out, giving the boy a questioning look as she pulled out her Biology textbook and shoved it into her backpack.

Ned threw Peter another sidelong glance at the mention of his father, the boy pointedly ignoring the look as he gave a stiff shrug. "I thought it was a little weird, too. But...I'm not complaining."

Michelle held his gaze for a moment before turning back to her books, seeming to drop the subject, much to Peter's relief.

"Seriously? Penis Parker got an internship with Tony Stark? Yeah, and I'm Spider-Man."

All three friends had to swallow down their simultaneous sighs as they turned around, meeting the smug expression of one Flash Thompson. The boy threw them a cocky grin as he rolled his eyes. Ned frowned as he glared at the approaching boy. "What do you want, Flash?" He muttered.

The boy smirked back at them. "Nothing. I'm just showing an interest in our fellow classmate's endeavors. So...you're buddy-buddy with Tony Stark, huh?" He asked, elbowing Peter in the ribs. "That's surprising considering you barely ever open your mouth, let alone around someone like Stark."

Peter took a step back and leveled the boy a glare. "What do you care?" He mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Flash shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just shocked is all. I never knew you were so desperate for attention that you'd make up such a specific lie," he chided. "That's usually how ya' get caught, you know. Everybody knows the key is to keep it simple."

Peter rolled his eyes and tried to step around the boy only for Flash to jump back into his path. Ned narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. "Leave him alone, would you, Flash. It's none of your business."

Flash let out a laugh as he caught sight of the annoyed glared he was getting. "Oh come on! You can't actually believe that Parker got an internship at Stark Industries!"

"It's more believable than you getting one," MJ muttered as she slammed her locker closed. Ned tried to stifle a laugh while Peter retained his tight-lipped stiff stance. Flash let out an indignant scoff before narrowing his eyes and violently shoving past Peter as he stalked away.

The teen let out a little sigh and threw Michelle a look. "Thanks. I'll be paying for that later."

"Bill me." Without another word, the girl threw her bag over her shoulder and made her way down the hall, the two boys sharing a look before quickly running after her.

As they shoved past kids trying to make their way to their classes, Peter found his mind wandering. Usually, he dreaded the end of the day, loathed the days of the week when Decathlon wasn't scheduled, knew there was nothing stalling him from getting home.

There, it was nothing but hours upon hours of diligently doing as he was told and trying his best to stay out of the line of fire. Sometimes he was successful. Sometimes he wasn't. Sometimes he couldn't help but stare down the clocks, praying the minutes would tick by faster until he could finally find solace in his mask and web-shooters.

But today, for the first time in a long time, was different. Today he didn't have to wonder about which path to the train station would take the longest. He didn't have to stress about whether or not they had enough alcohol at home to satiate the Cons and keep them safely incapacitated.

Today he didn't have to worry about any of that.

Today was going to be very different.

And for once, Peter wasn't upset by the change.

 

---

 

Monday - March 7, 2016

Stark Tower - Private Lab 1

11:23 a.m.

Tony was very upset by this change.

At least, upset enough to have it be the only predominant thought swirling through his head at the moment.

The man was currently working down in his lab, which really meant he was just resting his head down on the cold metal surface of his work table as he tried to remember the reasons why he'd gotten out of bed that day.

So far, he hadn't come up with anything past making sure the liquor cabinet was still stocked.

He turned his head, allowing his cheek to press down against the steel below as he gazed over at his phone resting a little ways away.

One call.

One call and it would all be over before it'd even begun.

And yet, despite the fact that he'd been hounding on that piece of information for the better part of the day, he still hadn't made a move for it, hadn't put in the effort to actually pick it up off the table.

There were plenty of excuses he could use to justify it too. He could say he was drunk that night one week ago, or say that he'd double-checked with HR and realized they didn't have the capabilities to take on another employee, not even an intern The longer he thought about it, the more excuses - no, the more legitimate reasons he came up with for why he should back out and call up Parker, tell him to fetch his son, and explain that the deal was off, that this wasn't happening, that his brain had decided to reboot and correct itself from the malfunction it had clearly been under.

And yet...his phone remained untouched.

He sighed, folded his arms, and rested his head on them. It was too late to back out now, he knew that. There was no ignoring it. For the past week, he'd been filling his head with different schematics and updates he could make to Rhodey's new braces, which, to add a silver lining, were already allowing the man to walk fairly normally, well enough for them both to pretend that everything was fine, that nothing had even happened. At least, for a short while.

But, in usual Tony Stark fashion, his attempts to distract himself from whatever he didn't want to deal with could only last so long.

Whether he liked it or not (and he truly did not), the kid...Peter was coming to the Tower today. Tony was going to see him today, would have to talk to him and everything. What the hell were they even supposed to talk about? Tony barely even knew anything about the kid past his name and his vigilante extracurriculars. Everything else had been irrelevant, and that was exactly how he'd liked things.

So...why had he changed everything? Why had he offered an internship in the first place? Why had he gotten involved?

He'd been mulling over those same questions for hours now and he still had no answers.

Tony groaned, lifting his head and pressing his palms into his eyes. "God, maybe I'm just losing it."

"That implies that you had it to begin with."

He didn't look up at the new voice, didn't have to. He just held in another sigh and dropped his hands back down to the table. "I thought you still weren't talking to me."

Pepper waltzed into the room professionally, heels clicking against the tiles below as she held a folder close to her hip. Her face showed no discernable emotions as she approached. "I'm trying to run a company. I don't have time for immaturity." Her voice was curt.

"Right. How is it that we were even in a relationship?"

She didn't respond to the jab, slapping the folder down on the table in front of him. Tony didn't bother looking at it, just kept his eyes on his phone, which still hadn't moved. "I need you to look over the forms for the MIT research budget. I think we might have overestimated how much we'd need to allocate for the donation."

Tony scoffed and dropped his head. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine creeping up his spine, making his body ache. "I..." he blew out a rough sigh. "I don't care about all of this right now, Pepper."

The woman pursed her lips, eyes narrowing slightly. "Well I do. And unfortunately, I still need your input on a lot of this."

"It's your company."

"It's your name on the building." She snapped, bit back whatever it was she'd been going to spit at him before folding her arms over her chest. "Just look them over. I don't have time to be indulging you."

Tony, once again, didn't look up. He just kept staring down at the table, hands folded underneath his chin. "Fine," he murmured softly, voice tired and uncombative.

He waited for the sound of her heels once again, waited to hear them clicking away, fast and annoyed. He waited, but when he heard nothing, he couldn't help but spare a small glance up. She was gazing down at him, the previously frustrated look on her face having softened just slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"Hmm?"

She glanced over to the side, seeming to hesitate slightly before turning back to him. "You seem more frazzled than usual. Did something happen?"

For some reason, Tony felt a flare of annoyance in his chest at the comment. He chewed on his cheek as he shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "A lot of things have happened, Potts, in case you forgot. Or would you like me to run you through them again?"

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, more so as he caught the look on Pepper's face morph back into anger. She narrowed her eyes and tightened her lips into a thin line. "Sorry I asked," she muttered before spinning around on her heel and making for the door.

Tony shut his eyes, gritting his teeth for a moment before leaning forward once more. "Sorry."

Pepper paused.

"I...sorry. I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean that." His tongue felt heavy, the words sticking to the sides of his throat as he tried to get them out. "I just..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Maybe it would be better if she did leave after all.

She already sort of had.

But she didn't. Pepper slowly turned back around to gaze at him. Tony twisted his chair around to face the side wall of the lab, back pressing into the cold surface, uncomfortable enough to keep him awake during his late-night lab sessions. He heard her shoes once again, heard them approaching, softer this time.

He felt her beside him, felt her aura emanating around him. He shut his eyes, let it surround him, let it remind him of what they'd previously had before everything had blown up around them. she said nothing for a moment, seemed content to stand in the silence between them.

Finally, she sighed, rested against the corner of the table as she pressed her hands into the cold surface. "What's wrong, Tony?"

He turned his head to look at her, watched her piercing blue eyes gazing back at him.

Tony knew her shortness with him didn't come from a place of mystery. Ever since he'd returned from Siberia, ever since he'd decided to keep what had happened a secret, things had been different, even more so than before. For hours, days, she had begged, pleaded with him to tell her something, disclose what had happened. But he knew he couldn't, not even with her. He couldn't dredge up those thoughts to share, couldn't wade through them once more.

Saying them aloud just made it more real.

Of course, his silence had led to another fight, just one of the thousands they seemed to always be having nowadays. But any hope that Tony had had about salvaging his relationship with the woman had all but dripped down the drain the second he'd decided to stay silent, the second he'd decided he couldn't trust her with this weight, couldn't trust it with anyone.

They had both known after that final fight that things truly were over between them.

Didn't make it any easier.

Still, as he gazed at her, gazed at a face that still hadn't left despite everything he'd put her through, he couldn't help but feel the same twinge of guilt he'd felt when he'd refused her the first time. Pepper didn't deserve his mistrust. Plenty of people did, but not Pepper.

He hesitated for a moment, glanced down at his hands as he tapped his fingers together.

Finally,

"I...t'k n'ntern."

She blinked at him, scrunching her eyes slightly. "You did a what now?"

He sighed, resting his head against the back of the seat. "I took an intern."

Yep, saying it out loud was even worse.

The woman blinked. "You took an intern? As in...like an actual physical human being?"

"I assume yes."

She let out a little scoff, more out of shock than anything else, shaking her head. "Why? We stopped the internship program after Stane. We stopped almost everything after that. You said yourself that you didn't trust-"

"I know what I said, Pepper," he cut her off a bit harsher than intended. He sighed. "The circumstances have changed. Besides, it's just the one kid."

The woman gazed at him in silence for a moment. The previous tension slowly dissipated as she walked over. Tony didn't look up, not even as he felt her move closer, felt her comforting presence near him.

"What's going on, Tony."

He drummed his fingers against the table. "It's...hard to explain."

"What isn't with you?" The comeback wasn't as sharp as before. In fact, it almost had an edge of a smile in it. The man glanced up. "Look, I know this isn't something I'd usually ever do, like...like ever, but..."

He trailed off, suddenly unsure as to how to continue. Pepper cocked a brow, leaning in closer. "But..." she coaxed.

Tony stared down at his hands, felt the familiar uncomfortable buzz he'd felt back when he'd first seen the kid off, back when he'd first seen those...people.

"You know that feeling you get when you just know something is really, really, wrong, but you just can't...explain it?"

Pepper stared at him for a moment, seemed to consider his words carefully before folding her arms over her chest. "You're suspicious."

"Yes."

"Of what?"

"I don't know...yet, at least. All I know is that his kid is...he's..." how could he explain this? He didn't even know the answers himself. "I think I can help him."

The woman let out a deep breath, gazing at him in confusion. "You can help a lot of kids, Tony. You just did with that MIT donation to their research projects. Why are you interested in this specific kid I..." she paused, gaze suddenly turning much sharper as she narrowed her eyes. "Who called you?"

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he threw her an exasperated look. "Nobody called me, Pepper. Christ, he's not mine."

"Well, with your track record, can't blame me for assuming."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Look, the fact of the matter is that the internship's happening and I don't know what to do...like at all. I barely even know any kids, let alone interact with many. And when I do, I usually do it with a thoroughly vetted teleprompter in front of me. How am I just supposed to do it one on one?" He hesitated for a moment, brows knitting together in worry.

"How am I supposed to...talk to him?

He let out a deep sigh and ran a hand down his face, suddenly feeling the full effect of skipping those days of sleep. He could feel a deep thrumming in the back of his skull, the beginnings of a migraine working their way around his head. He suppressed a groan and shut his eyes, trying to fight back the spots beginning to dance before his vision. As if he didn't already have enough to deal with right now.

However, as he heard the silence remain unbroken, the man blinked open his eyes once more, having been expecting the woman to give some advice in that moment. He glanced at her and noticed that she was staring at him intensely, almost...inspecting him. He cocked a brow.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's just...you're actually concerned about this...aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...you actually care about this."

He winced, tilting his head slightly. "Care seems like too strong a word."

"Fine. You're invested."

"Eh, better."

The woman shifted her weight between her feet for a moment before lifting a hand, gently resting it against his shoulder. Tony was surprised by the motion, but didn't move out of her reach. She gazed at him gently, her eyes softer than they had been for the past couple of weeks. "Listen, I know you don't think you can... I know you think you have to do this all alone..." she paused for a moment, seemed to really consider her words. "...but you can rely on me, on Rhodey. That's all we've been trying to tell you, Tony." She smiled wistfully. "You just seem to have a hard time listening."

The man lowered his gaze, didn't feel like seeing the look of pity crossing over her face. She continued nevertheless.

"I know you don't want to talk about it."

She was right.

"But...if you ever do...we're here." She squeezed his shoulder. He shut his eyes and tried to control the sudden ache in his chest. "I'm here."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Before the air could become too thick, however, she was pulling away, clearing her throat. "So, what time is this intern of yours supposed to be getting here."

Tony quickly readjusted his mask of indifference as he leaned back in his seat and folded his arms. "After school. Around 3."

"Uh-huh . . . and are you expecting the kid to walk all the way here, or are you sending a driver?" She asked as she began to make for the doorway.

Tony's face grew thoughtful for a moment before a mischievous grin broke. He reached down onto his pocket and pulled out his phone, tapping a few buttons before bringing it to his ear. After a second, the other line answered.

"Hey, Happy?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not doing anything right now, are you?"

"Uhh..."

 

---

 

Monday - March 7, 2016

Midtown School of Science and Tech - Outer Courtyard

02:25 p.m.

Peter smiled and gave a small wave as he watched Ned pile into his mother's car before driving off. The teen watched his best friend's car pull away from the curb before letting out a sigh, trotting down the last few remaining stairs of the school entrance before hopping up onto the stone pillars that flanked the doors.

The boy reached behind him and unzipped his back, pulling out one of the many notebooks he kept in his bag. But instead of his other books which were filled with notes on Shakespeare and population growth, this particular notebook had a little spider doodled in the corner.

Scrawling past the first twenty pages, which were filled with normal school notes in case the Cons ever decided to check said book, Peter stopped at the last page that had work on it. A multitude of different sketches were scattered across the page, new designs for web-shooters and chemical formulas he was itching to try the next time he had a chance in Mr. Mitchell's class.

Creating new webs in his high-school chemistry lab wasn't ideal, nor was it the safest, but it was the only option really available to him, unless he was willing to steal from either the school of his father. Neither of those were very appealing options, so the classroom was his best bet for the foreseeable future.

Speaking of future, Peter couldn't stop his eyes from occasionally flitting to the street. A small, nervous frown set upon his face as he pulled his legs up, crossing them underneath him as he rested his elbows on his thighs, holding the open book close to his body as he tried to focus on the page, tried to figure out the best configuration to store as much webbing as possible.

It would be here.

Kids milled past the stairs next to him as he tried to concentrate, different cars pulling up to the side, swallowing up one kid or another before driving off again. Each car that stopped made the boy's eyes drift up, instantly earning a silent berating before he'd try to focus back up again. What was he so worried about, anyway?

It wasn't a dream.

He continued to relay the words over and over again in his mind. His thigh began to bounce up and down as his fingers drummed against the edge of the page, the paper tensing with each movement. Peter let out a steady breath through his mouth, nibbling on his bottom lip as he cast another worried look up towards the sidewalk.

It would be here.

After another few minutes of rereading the same formula for the tenth time, Peter sighed and snapped the notebook shut, realizing he'd never get anything done like this. But as his eyes drifted away from the pages, he noticed the sleek black car pulling up to the curb, standing out like a sore thumb against the sea of busted minivans and old hand-me-downs.

Peter was used to cars that screamed 'look at how much money I have', considering that was all his father seemed to drive, but it was still an unusual sight seeing one stopping outside of his school. So the boy simply stared at the car as it stopped, the passenger window rolling down slowly, revealing the face of one not-so-happy man.

"What? You just gonna keep staring at it? Let's go!" He shouted before rolling the window up once more.

The words and the sharpness at which they were barked quickly had Peter nearly tumbling from his seat atop the pillar. He practically threw the notebook back into his bag, not even bothering to zip it up before he was quickly hurrying over to the car, sliding into the backseat wordlessly.

The man, whom he was pretty sure was ironically named Happy Hogan, threw him a look from the rearview mirror. The coldness in his gaze made Peter squirm, an uncomfortable itch slinking up his arms as he felt the sudden need to shrink up and become as small as possible. Thankfully, Mr. Hogan's gaze quickly fell away with a huff of annoyance as he twisted the wheel and pulled away from the school.

Peter tried not to hear the murmured grumblings of the man as he drove, realizing he probably wasn't meant to hear them at all. But it was hard to ignore, what with it being the only other noise in the car.

"Can't believe...Tony I swear I am going to rip you a new one when I, ugg...As if I don't have anything better to do than drive some kid around..."

The teen didn't say anything, knew it wasn't his place. The best bet he had was to sit quietly and try not to piss the man off even further. (It was always better to just be quiet, anyway.) So with that, the kid let out a soft sigh and turned towards the window, resting his cheek against a propped-up fist.

As the two fell into tense silence, Peter felt his stomach beginning to churn nervously, though - shockingly - it wasn't from the man currently driving. It was from where they were driving to. It was a familiar feeling, a wiggling mass that sat heavy in his gut. He felt it every time he walked home, a permanent weight in his stomach that made him feel like his footsteps were leaving indents in the sidewalk.

Throughout all of his classes, he'd felt nothing but excitement fluttering in his stomach. But now, with nothing standing between him and Tony Stark save for a short car trip, he could feel his anxiety crawling back into his body like a rabid animal trying to hide from the sun. Just like that, all of his worries from before were slowly beginning to eat at him once again.

Cool it, Parker. You're fine. Everything's fine. Everything's...fine.

The words sounded right in his head, but for some reason, he couldn't get them to reach his stomach, which was still churning dangerously. He knew it was stupid. He knew it was ridiculous to still be freaking out about this, especially considering the fact that Mr. Stark had already explained himself the day before. And yet, Peter couldn't stop himself from comfortingly rubbing circles into the back of his hand with his thumb as his thoughts ran wild.

What if I do something stupid? What if I...what if I blow something up? Something super important? What if I annoy him? I do that sometimes, don't I? That's what Sandra says. That I'm annoying. Spider-Man's annoying, too. No, that's different. Spider-Man's different.

You're no Spider-Man. Not right now. Not without the mask.

Peter instinctively banged his hand hard against the window to smack himself out of his thoughts, to which Happy stole a glance from the front seat. The teen quickly averted his gaze, foot tapping quickly against the floor of the car. The man rolled his eyes and turned back around, but thankfully didn't say anything. Peter blew out a small breath, tracing the lines in the leather seats with his eyes to slow his beating heart and calm himself.

He'd been doing that way too much recently. Getting buried in his thoughts.

Peter didn't have much time to dwell on them as he felt the car slow. Blinking back into reality, the boy stole a glance outside the window and couldn't help his jaw from dropping open. If he'd been paying attention, he would have caught the small smirk on Happy's face at his reaction.

Instead, his focus was on the humongous building in front of him. Stark Tower was easily one of the largest buildings in the city, nearly rivaling the Empire State building in terms of greatness. Sure, he'd seen it from afar plenty of times, heck, his balcony had a pretty clear shot of it. But he'd never seen it like this before.

The sleek metal exterior glinted in the sunlight, the numerous windows plastered along the sides adding to the building's reflective quality. From below, the tower seemed to reach all the way up to the clouds, a huge balcony and landing pad visible near the top floors.

The entranceway was just as impressive, Peter noted as the car began to pull up to the building with perfectly sculpted hedges flanking the road and a large pond with matching fountain in the center of the roundabout just outside the front doors.

Peter didn't even register that the car had stopped until his car door suddenly swung open.

He jumped back slightly before realizing that Happy had exited the car and was now staring at him expectantly. Blinking back into focus, the boy fumbled with the seatbelt before tossing his backpack over his shoulder, mumbling a strew of apologies to Happy as he quickly stumbled out of the car.

Peter kept a steeled grip on the strap of his backpack as his fingers fiddled with the hem of his jeans. Happy didn't seem to take much notice as he walked past him, Peter quickly falling in line behind him.

But if he thought the outside of the building was impressive, then the inside was beyond anything he could have imagined.

The lobby was huge, stretching from the entranceway and the surrounding glass walls to the back, where a security checkpoint had been set up, preventing anybody from proceeding deeper into the building without proper clearance. In the center of the room stood the circular receptionist's desk, complete with a holographic projection of the company logo hovering a few meters overhead. Along the glass walls that made up the sides of the first floor were rows of plush leather chairs and tables, most likely a waiting area of sorts. But it was really the sight above them that was one to behold.

The ceiling stretched far overhead, most likely by a few hundred feet. The upper floors could be seen from where he stood with metal bridges creating pathways across the gap. It was as if the floors stretched up for infinity.

Peter couldn't keep the small excited grin off of his face as he stared up at the sight. He'd only ever been to his father's building a handful of times, and it had nothing on this!

The kid was jolted from his thoughts as Happy turned to look at him. "I'll be right back." He muttered as he began to head towards the security checkpoint, which led down a large hallway, glancing back over his shoulder as he did so. "And don't touch anything." He called.

Peter watched the man walk away before fiddling awkwardly with his fingers, unsure of what to do. Around him, people continued to mill around, different clipboards, charts and/or papers filling their hands as they did. Realizing he was more or less in the way, Peter took notice of the chairs sitting up against the far side wall.

Slowly making his way over, he took a seat and watched as the workers skimmed by, each looking incredibly busy. I wonder if it's this busy over at Stark Industries. The boy thought to himself. After all, this building wasn't the company's main location, and yet it seemed just as busy as one.

Peter probably shouldn't have been so surprised. After all, Stark Industries was one of the most widely known companies worldwide. Obviously, they couldn't deal with having just one point of business.

And yet, watching the crowd of scientists and workers whizzing past in a constant flowing rate, Peter couldn't help but feel slightly overwhelmed. The chattering of colleagues, the whirring of machines and the beeping of computers all seemed to jumble together into a massive wave of cacophony that threatened to bowl the kid over. Peter felt his knee bouncing up and down as his fingers clamped down around the edge of the seat. The chaos around him didn't help to alleviate his past anxieties at all. In fact, they probably were just making them worse.

Get a grip, Parker. You're fine. Everything's fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. Mr. Stark's going to come and everything is going to be alright. You're going to do whatever he says and keep him happy. Do NOT make him mad. Just...don't do anything stupid.

Once again, Peter felt himself falling into a trap of repeating the same words over and over again, continuously fighting to convince himself of the things he was saying. And yet, the boy couldn't help the slight twinge in the back of his head that wondered if whether or not this was actually real; that any minute now, his father was going to spring out from behind the walls, fury in his eyes at his son's Spider-Man antics before dragging him home to his impending doom, a laughing Tony Stark in the background.

That's not gonna happen. He's not gonna tell. Mr. Stark wouldn't tell him...

 

. . .

 

...unless you make him mad. What's to stop him from spilling it then? Or blackmailing you into doing whatever he wants? How safe are you with him, Peter? How do you know he's not lying to you?

 

. . .

 

. . .

 

. . .

 

("Everyone lies.")

 

"Hey, kid."

Peter let out a loud yelp, flinging himself backward in shock, the chair scraping painfully against the tile floor at his movements. Tony's reaction was all too similar, the man leaping backward as he retracted his arm.

"Jesus Christ," he huffed, placing a hand over his heart. "You're gonna have to stop doing that," he muttered, casting the boy a strange look.

Peter gazed at the man for a moment before a light blush fell over his cheeks. "S-sorry...y-you scared me."

The billionaire opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he just sucked in a breath and clamped his jaw shut, like he was trying to decide how to proceed. Peter noticed this, but quickly lowered his gaze, deciding not to comment and to just let the man take the reigns here. Better safe than sorry. He wrung his hands tightly before moving them behind his back, suddenly unsure where to put them. He twisted the tip of his shoe against the tile underneath, a soft squeak sounding from the movement.

"Soooo..." Mr. Stark breathed, seeming to draw out the word as long as he could, perhaps to buy himself some time. "How was school?"

Peter scrunched his face slightly at the out-of-the-blue question before lowering his gaze. "I-it was fine, I guess. We...we had a test in calculus. I-it was...easy..." he murmured, unsure as to how much he should say? Was that enough? Or should he add more?

"It...was on derivative chain rules. You know? Differentiating composite functions?"

"I know."

"Right, course you do. A-anyway. It was mostly on Lagrange's notation, but you got extra credit for adding in Leibniz's notation, which I actually prefer with the fractional variations, so I, uh...I did...that."

Stop talking. Stop talking right now. Oh, my god.

"Uh...right..."

The man was staring down at him looking very much like he'd rather be anywhere else in that moment. Peter honestly couldn't blame him, though the thought did make a furious blush of embarrassment rush over the teen's cheeks as he ducked his head.

Still, despite his hidden gaze, the teen was still able to make out the slight shifting of the man before him, the way his weight bounced back and forth between his feet, like he was unsure of himself. But that couldn't be. Tony Stark didn't get nervous...right?

The question was enough to get Peter's eyes flickering back up, catching sight of the man's similar hesitant stare. And for a second, as the two gazed back at each other, one lone thought seemed to permeate through both of their heads, equally loud and equally as daunting.

This was going to be rough.

Mr. Stark shook himself out of it first, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a laminated security badge, extending it out to the teen. Peter hesitated for a moment, to which Mr. Stark gave it a little shake. "It's not going to bite you, ya know? Hurry up. Take it."

Quickly snatching the card away with a new heat flushing over his cheeks, Peter twisted it over in his hand as the billionaire continued to speak. "You need a badge to get anywhere in this place. Tons of security checkpoints around here. Occupational hazard, I guess."

Nothing about the card was too notable, it included everything he'd been expecting, but the words printed along the top of the badge had the teen's brows quirking.

"Head Intern? Aren't I your...only intern?"

"Yeah, but that technically means you are the Head Intern," Mr. Stark said with a smirk as he winked down at the kid. Peter didn't say anything, nor did he express anything at the gesture. The man cleared his throat awkwardly before glancing away again. "Right...so I should probably...show you around."

With that, the man turned and began to walk towards the security scanners. It was a row of three-foot metal bollards that reminded Peter of the ticket scanners down in the subways. Only, there didn't seem to be anyplace to scan a badge. The apparent simplicity of the security measure had the teen's face scrunching slightly in confusion. It looked as if anybody, badge or no, could simply waltz right through the scanners and into the main building.

Mr. Stark must have noticed his doubtful look, for he gestured towards the badge now pinned to Peter's chest. "These things are packed with all sorts of sensors. You're scanned for badges, weapons, radiation, stuff like that."

He gestured to the floor just ahead of the scanners, where Peter noticed there was a small, almost indiscernible slit in ground that stretched along the entire floor from one wall to the other. "If anything abnormal or potentially dangerous passes through the sensors, the security walls go up, blocking any access to the rest of the building," he explained as he walked through the entrance to the hallway.

"Welcome back, Boss."

Peter jumped slightly at the new voice, Mr. Stark glancing over at him before lifting his head to the ceiling. "Relax. That's just FRIDAY. The AI system around here." He raised up his hands before gesturing towards Peter. "Mr. Parker, FRIDAY. FRIDAY, Mr. Parker."

"Hello, Mr. Parker. It's a pleasure to meet you." The feminine voice called down from the ceiling.

Peter blinked up in shock for a moment before clearing his throat. "Um...h-hello?" he stuttered out, Tony leaning down towards him. "I suggest you get acquainted with her." He said as the kid continued to flit his gaze around the ceiling.

"Well, let's get started, shall we?" the man said casually. Though there was something about the stiffness of his posture that seemed more inclined to say "let's get this over with."

They started down the halls, coming across an open floor-plan with a waiting area and adjacent meeting rooms, each with glass walls that allowed a clear view of the giant monitors, round tables and chairs gathered around.

"First floor. Mainly waiting areas, board rooms, blah, blah, boring shit. I almost never come down here."

Peter quietly followed after the man, hands wringing together as he gazed around at his surroundings. Despite the fact that the man before him seemed a bit on edge, and despite the rather tepid surroundings, he couldn't help the feeling of awe that coursed through him, though perhaps his good mood stemmed mainly from the fact that he wasn't home. Still,

"I got to say, Mr. Stark," Peter stuttered out as they ascended the escalator to the second floor. "T-this is all super impressive."

Mr. Stark actually snorted a bit at that. "Please. This is nothing."

The escalators were fast, too fast for Peter to ask what he meant before they were on the second floor. Still, as he opened his mouth to enquire, they walked towards the railing and his face slackened into stone-cold shock.

"Woah..."

Below them, there were at least a hundred people milling around the room, passing papers, sharing holographic images or simply typing at their stations. The space reminded Peter of a hockey rink, both in size and in shape. Different tables lay scattered around the room, each projecting different holograms into the air a few inches above the surface. The computers atop the hundreds of desks were all of a similar fashion, the rapid taping of keys reaching Peter's ears. Along the back wall, he noticed the floor dipped down and converted into a staircase that led to a lower level.

However, despite the chaos below him, it was the sight in the center of the room that really had him captivated. A large transparent cylindrical tube, around the same diameter of a hot tub, stretched up from the floor all the way to the ceiling. Inside, a bright stream of blue energy crackle and sparked violently as it flowed through like a waterfall.

"I-is that..." Peter asked hesitantly, glancing over at the crackling energy in the tube below.

"Yep. That's the arc reactor. Powers this whole joint. Well...it's the energy from it. The reactor itself is under the building."

Peter nodded his head before turning back to look out over the sea of workers. He felt his lips quirking into a smile, wide enough to stretch across his face.

From somewhere behind him, he heard a little chuckle, perhaps from Mr. Stark. He turned to glance back at the man and noticed a humored smirk on his face. The billionaire, upon noticing Peter's eyes back on him, cleared his throat and wiped the look away. But Peter could still see hints of a chuckle in his dark brown eyes.

"Come on, enough of this boring stuff. We got better things to look at," the man called, turning away from the railing as Peter's eyes widened.

"There's more?"

Tony turned back towards him, posture seeming to loosen a bit as he winked. "Much more."

 

---

 

"This is, single-handedly the coolest thing I've ever seen."

"You've said that eight times in the past hour. For reference, is this more or less cool than the 3D printers making steel-fiber nanotech?

Peter didn't bother responding, seemingly too focused on trying not to drool as he stared through the glass outside the upper-level RD departments.

Inside, a handful of the company's higher-tier engineers were working away on integrating the tech from downstairs into more applicable inventions. This specific floor was more medical-focused, the team closest to the window currently working on the latest prosthetic arm prototype, complete with nanochips in the brainstem for fine motor movement through neural messaging.

Variations of different robots either rolled, flew or walked through the room as well, dropping off papers, conducting small electrical corrections or simply organizing files along the back wall.

Tony stole a glance over at the kid and found his lips quirking into a reluctant smile as he watched the boy's eyes gleaming like a toddler staring through the glass of a candy store.

The billionaire had to admit, this was going a lot differently than he'd imagined.

Such a shame, too. For he'd spent the better part of the morning coming up with a pretty solid-fire plan.

He figured he'd meet the kid, show him around some and then find one of the RD workers to pawn him off on. After all, he said he'd make the kid an intern. But that didn't mean he'd make him his personal intern. Lord knew he didn't need nor want a teenager following at his heels like a little lost puppy all day.

It was the perfect solution, too. Whatever mental malfunction he'd gone through that night at the Parker Household would be fixed up no problem. The kid could just be a paper jockey for one of the lower-level labs and Tony would never have to interact with him again aside from occasionally fixing his suit or hearing about his web-headed adventures from Happy.

He'd be close. But not too close. Which was exactly how Tony liked it.

"These guys have the best jobs in the entire world," Peter breathed, watching the workers with a starstruck smile on his face.

So why was Tony still here?

Why was this tour lasting much longer than he'd expected?

Why was he dragging it out?

The billionaire regarded the teen next to him for a moment.

Tony Stark was good at a great many things. But interacting with children was not making the top twenty list. He could barely interact with adults in a healthy and mature manner. Add in some young and very impressionable lumps of emotionally charged, hormonal messes? Tony knew his limits, no matter what his friends said. And children were far, far past said limits.

But Peter Parker was quite the anomaly.

Sure, the super-strength and wall-crawling were a bit strange, but that wasn't really what caught Tony's attention.

It's almost like he wasn't a kid at all. At least, not in the sense of making Tony's skin crawl with the adolescent drawl of mundane high-school drivel. Sure, the kid could ramble a bit, but it seemed more nervous habit than a sign of vapid self-absorption.

He hadn't complained once in the two hours they'd been walking, nor had he really spoken up without Tony first initiating the conversation. There was no phone in sight, no roll of the eyes, no scoffs of dismissive attitude or snark or anything else Tony would have been displaying at the kid's age.

For all intents and purposes, Peter was incredibly well-behaved. Polite. Quiet.

("There's nothing wrong with a little obedience.")

Tony shifted, felt a tiny little tingle shoot up his skin. He grimaced, rubbing at his wrist to try and dispel the feeling of….whatever that was.

"Come on, kid," he called as he turned away from the windows and started down the hall again. He could hear the teen's hurried footsteps as he followed behind him.

Tony would be lying if he were to say those uneasy feeling's he'd first felt in the Parker house had gone. If anything, as the hours had ticked by with Peter, they just kept churning, bubbling up against the sides of his stomach, flaring hotter whenever the kid flinched if Tony spoke too loudly or how his eyes would always avert if their gazes met. Subtle little clues that gave the man pause.

"You're probably hungry by now, huh? I usually just live off the vending machines. There's a few on each floor, but I figured that's probably not the best example to be setting. Especially since I just break into them and grab whatever I want. I'm not paying two dollars for a bag of chips in my own goddamn Tower, you know?"

Silence.

The footsteps had stopped.

He paused and turned back around, noticing the Peter was no longer right behind him. Instead, the kid had stopped a little ways away, staring out the huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Manhattan below.

The teen's face was drawn into a guarded look of calm that Tony couldn't quite read. He seemed to be at ease, but there was a certain wariness in his eyes, a cautious gleam. It seemed to always be present, a shield of sorts that seemed ironclad.

Tony was familiar with the look. Less familiar with seeing it on a child.

The sky was slowly beginning to turn a lighter shade of purple, streaks of golden-pink clouds cutting through the sea of color. Streetlamps were only now beginning to flicker to life, adding a dull orange light to the mix of hues.

Peter continued to stare out at the scene as Tony made his way to stand next to him, sharing the sight as well.

"Nice view," the teen murmured softly, eyes never leaving the glass. Tony noticed him rubbing circles with his thumb against the back of his hand.

"You should see it from the top floor. It's unbeatable."

He heard the teen take a breath, heard how unsteady and wobbly it sounded. Peter chewed his lower lip before casting a nervous glance over towards him. "M…Mr. Stark?"

The man swung his head to gaze down at him.

"I….I-I just…" the boy seemed to hesitate for a moment, hands continuing to fiddle together. "I….I just wanted to…..to thank you."

Tony blinked, slightly taken aback at the sudden declaration. "For what?"

"For all of this." The teen's face cracked into a small smile as he gestured at the halls around them. "I mean…t-this is….this is more than I could have ever asked for. I'm pretty s-sure this has been the single greatest day of my life," he scoffed, smile growing as he continued. "And…a-and I know you're probably super busy, cause I mean, you're Tony Stark. Hello? When are you not busy? But…b-but you still took the time to actually…like….show me around and stuff. I figured you'd just hand me over to one of your workers and be done with it."

Tony swallowed the awkward cough he felt brewing in his chest at that.

"But you….I…." the teen ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I-I'm not really good with my words and I don't know what I'm trying to say. Just…thanks." With that, he caught the man's eyes for just a second before dropping his gaze back down to the floor. The smile remained though, even as he continued to fiddle nervously with his hands. "Thanks for…all of this."

Tony stared down at him for a moment, took a second to simply digest the kid's words.

Usually, he was not one to indulge people's nervous babblings. No matter how starstruck the average pedestrian was running into him on the street, he'd usually cut off their incessant ramblings, sign a hat or something, and be on his way leaving some lucky Joe smiling like an idiot after him.

"Don't mention it, kid."

He didn't sign anything this time. Nor did he cut anyone off.

But the telltale smile was the same.

He didn't mind it as much this time.

Not even as Peter continued, jabbering on about the Tower and the labs they'd seen, falling into step behind Tony as they continued down the hallway again. Peter's voice seemed to grow stronger and stronger the longer he talked, words becoming sharper and more full of energy as he spoke.

"I mean, you have robots working as fully-fledged automated assistants without any AI interruptions, system malfunctions, code errors, or any other obstacles that almost every company that ever tries to automate its workers has. If it weren't for the fact that most of the people here are super-smart tech geniuses that have to come up with unique, creative ideas for new prototypes and blueprints, you could probably have the first fully automated staff that does more than just assembly-line manufacturing."

Tony actually found himself falling into a lull with the kid's voice as they walked, wondering where to go next. Med-bay? More RD? Maybe the prototype schematics for the latest StarkPhone?

"-and having a viable arc reactor energy source running through the core of the building is probably one of the most ingenious ideas for renewable energy I've ever seen cause I mean you've got a built-in power source and an absorption-based tubing system that allows the actual transport system itself to have a hand in retransmitting the energy from the periphery tubules back down to the main core and-"

"Jeez, kid. Didn't know you were such a motor mouth," Tony chuckled with a smirk, deciding to try his hand showing off the latest prototype models. Seemed like the biggest wow-factor they'd yet to see and-

He stopped walking again.

Because Peter wasn't talking anymore.

He turned back around again, wondering what had caught the kid's attention this time. Only, there was nothing. Peter wasn't staring starstruck at anything this time.

Instead, his face had gone bare, the carefree expression from before replaced with a tight look of apprehension as he started to wring his hands together. His eyes were wide, cheeks flushing red as his pupils darting back and forth like he'd just realized something and that something was about to reach up from the floor and swallow him whole.

Tony actually felt his stomach flip at the sudden change.

"Kid-?"

"Sorry."

He blinked.

"I….I-I'm sorry. I didn't…I mean, I….I didn't mean to….to talk so much. I-I know I can kind of…just, um…." He ducked his head, face going even redder. "…sorry."

Tony stared down at him, trying to keep from twisting his face in absolute, what-the fuck shock.

"Kid…I was joking."

Peter spared him a small little glance, complete with a full gleam of confusion in those big brown eyes. And Tony actually found himself unable to hold in his look of absolute disbelief.

Did this kid seriously not understand the concept of JOKES?

Tony scoffed a bit. "Listen, Parker. You're a nice kid and all but you have got to start loosening up, you know? Relax a bit. Breathe. You're making me antsy just by being around you and I really don't need that sort of energy. I've already got enough to deal with just coming from me so I definitely don't need to start outsourcing," he chuckled as if it wasn't one hundred and ten percent true.

Peter didn't chuckle though. Instead, he dropped his gaze again as his cheeks began to burn a deeper red, fingers fiddling with the hem of his sleeve as he inched away just a tad. "S-sorry..." he whispered again, the word trickling from his mouth and spilling onto the floor with a pathetic little splat.

Tony watched as the kid practically deflated, posture going tense and hands clenching behind his back. He grimaced at the obvious regression before a bout of confusion bubbled up inside him.

He'd chided people before and never once had he regretted it. Whatever embarrassment or shame they felt was their own problem to deal with. At least, that was always the mentality he adopted in said circumstances.

But something about how unsure and embarrassed the kid looked made a drop of regret puddle in his stomach, a feeling he very much didn't want. There were plenty of valid things for him to feel regret over and this was not one of them.

So...why did he feel so bad all of a sudden? It was just a joke…

("We're just joking around. Don't be such a priss.")

Tony felt his fingers twitch at the memory, felt an even stronger twitch in his chest. A prickling of shame. It was obvious Tony wouldn't be able to just ride easy with this kid. He'd have to play this carefully, whether he wanted to or not.

The billionaire bit the inside of his cheek, debating what he should say next. After a second, he sighed and gave an exasperated shake of his head as he decided to continue his two-hour streak of 'winging it' when it came to this kid. What were the chances he could make things worse anyway?

"Kid..." Tony called, grimacing as he noticed how hard his voice sounded, emphasized by how the boy flinched ever so slightly, refusing to meet his gaze. He bit back another sigh. God, screw eggshells. This was like walking on shards of glass...and just as painful, too. "Can you..." He tried again, lowering his voice. "Can you...um, just...here me out for a sec, kay?"

The boy's fingers curled around the hem of his jacket like a lifeline before his eyes were carefully lifting, light hazel meeting dark brown.

Tony stared down at the kid for a moment before he let out a small sigh. "In case you can't tell, I'm not very good at this sort of thing," he muttered with a smirk, the look not reflected in the boy. "And I'm pretty sure I'm the last person who should be lecturing you, kid. After all, I barely even know you."

"But-" he added quickly as he saw the kid's face starting to fall. "I'm hoping to maybe...you know, change that in the future. And I don't want you to think you can't say what you want or voice whatever you're thinking, kid." He noticed the boy grimace at his words, like they made him uncomfortable.

Tony narrowed his eyes, but continued, nonetheless. "I'm not gonna... punish you or whatever just for saying what's on your mind."

He reached out and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, painfully aware of how violently Peter flinched at the contact but didn't pull away. Tony tried to pretend he hadn't seen it. "Listen, kid. Nobody here is out to get you, despite what you might be expecting. So, try to lighten up. Cause there's nothing to be afraid of here."

Peter stared up at him for a moment, a brief little second before his eyes were drifting away. But it was enough for the billionaire to finally get a good look at the kid's eyes. That wariness was still there, that wall of tension and guarded caution.

But something seemed to shift slightly at his words, a change in his gaze. It wasn't anything drastic, in fact it was barely even noticeable. But Tony could see it, could see the slight twitch in the boy's face as his shoulders lost some of their tension and his hands dropped back down to his sides. His eyes...they seemed to brighten just a tad.

The teen let a small smile fall onto his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You're not as bad at this as you think," he murmured quietly, flashing Tony a tiny little grin.

The billionaire felt a chuckle bubble out of his lips as he patted the kid's shoulder. "Yeah, well I'll change your mind soon enough."

The two began to slowly make their way back down the hallway, Peter now walking with his head held a little higher. "You know, you really should ramble on about nonsense more often." Tony remarked. "Your word vomit is actually kind of full of smart ideas once you sort through it." He mused, thinking back to when Peter had spoken about the labs, giving small suggestions and remarks that had actually impressed the genius.

"Woah, hold up! Tony Stark genuinely complimenting someone else without bursting into flame or melting into a puddle of goo?" The pair turned suddenly at the new voice that sounded behind them. "What planet have I landed on?" Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes slowly made his way over to them, a large smirk plastered onto his face as the soft whirring of his leg braces filled the air.

Tony couldn't help but roll his eyes at the comment, anything to keep them off the braces that seemed to fill his ears with their horrid whirring. "Ha, ha. How long you been brewing that comment, huh?"

"Couple years," the man chuckled as he stopped before them. "How's it been, man?" Rhodes asked, taking the time to actually look at the man. Apart from a few scratches and a couple bruises that were still visible, it was hard to tell Tony had even been hurt in Siberia at all.

But Rhodey knew. He knew all too well.

Tony gave him a small smirk. "Can't complain, Platypus."

The colonel rolled his eyes but said nothing. Tony supposed the man was used to his deflecting. But he knew sooner or later, his friend would be back, hounding him to discuss things he'd much rather forget. Best to hold that off for as long as possible.

"Uh-huh," Rhodey muttered as he shook his head, his eyes falling on a sight just behind his friend. He glanced over at Tony and gave him a questioning stare. The billionaire didn't have to wonder what the man was looking at. he could practically feel Peter hiding behind him.

"Who's the kid?"

Tony stepped to the side, allowing his friend to get a good view of the strange kid before him. Rhodey, ever the adult he was, put on a warm smile and stepped closer, offering out a hand.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Colonel James Rhodes. But most people call me either Rhodes or Rhodey." He said calmly.

The teen stared at the man's outstretched hand before flicking his gaze up to meet his face. "I...I-I...um, I'm...I'm P-"

"Peter." Tony finally interjected, placing a comforting hand on the kid's shoulder. "Peter Parker." He stepped closer towards the colonel, cupping his hand so the kid couldn't here. "Would it kill you to stop looking so intimidating? Kid's already freaked enough as it is."

Rhodey gave the man a strange look before glancing back over at the kid, who was now furiously staring at the ground like his life depended on it. Tony silently prayed the man would let it go, not too keen on seeing the kid freak out over some impromptu interrogation.

"What are you doing here, anyways Rhodey?" he asked, hoping to direct his friend's attention away from the kid. "Not that I don't enjoy every living, breathing second I have with you."

"The meetings in DC finished earlier than expected. I was going to swing by the compound when I got back, but Pepper asked me to just come straight here."

Tony's eyebrows furrowed at that. "Pepper?"

"Yes, me."

Once again, heads turned at the new voice.

Pepper smiled as she walked over to the three boys, red hair swishing past her shoulders as she did so. Tony threw her a mock glare. "So, what? You just decided to call in my babysitter?" he muttered, not trying too hard to hide his displeasure.

The woman, as usual, ignored the snark. "Well someone has to watch you, and I don't have time in my schedule to bottle-feed you anymore," she muttered, stopping next to the colonel as the two long-time friends exchanged quick pecks on the cheek.

Tony rolled his eyes at her words, the motion causing him to catch a small glimpse of Peter. The boy was shifting his weight back and forth between his feet, tightly gripping onto the bottom of his jacket so hard his hands were shaking. The look in his eyes told Tony the increasing number of people in the room wasn't doing anything to alleviate his nerves.

Nevertheless, he knew he'd have to introduce the kid to his two closest friends eventually, especially since the kid was going to be at the Tower often.

He might as well get used to them now. Tony thought to himself as he gently pushed the frozen Peter closer towards the two others. The squeak of the teen's heels skidding against the tiles filled the air with a tense screeching.

Pepper gazed at the wide-eyed boy for a moment before a soft smile graced her lips. "Hello, young man," she said, gently. "My name's Pepper Potts. I work over at Stark Industries, but you'll often probably see me around here, too. What's your name?"

Peter held the woman's gaze for a second before quickly glancing over towards Tony. It took the man a moment to realize the kid was asking for his approving nod. Blinking back his millisecond of surprise, the billionaire gave a nod of his head, prompting the kid to speak.

The teen gulped before turning back towards Pepper. "P...P-Peter. Parker."

If Tony's eyes hadn't been on the kid before him, he would have seen the way Pepper stiffened, eyes flashing for a brief moment as she registered the name. "Peter Parker?"

"Yep, Pete here is our newest intern," he said with a smile. "Actually, he's our first intern, but you get the idea."

Rhodey's eyes widened. "Intern?" he asked, casting Tony a questioning look. "Intern?"

"Yep, intern. Now, considering we still have around another hour and a half before little Peter here had to head on home, I suggest we go ahead and check out a few more of the upper-house labs for-"

"Hold up! You're telling me that you, Mr. If I Wanted Some Idiot Following Me Around I'd Just Head Up Over To Oscorp, are taking an intern? Willingly?!" Rhodey questioned, his tone voicing his shock.

"Yes, pay attention." Tony muttered with a roll of his eyes. He placed a hand on Peter's shoulder as the pair began to make their way back over toward the elevators, the billionaire continuing to chat up a storm while the teen simply followed in silence.

Rhodey watched the two disappear into the elevator, face still clearly showing his shock and confusion as he turned back to Pepper. "Alright, what the hell is going on around here?" he muttered, only to furrow his brow as he caught sight of the woman.

Pepper was currently staring at the ground, eyes narrowed as she chewed on one of her nails, obviously deep in thought. She jumped as Rhodey placed a hand on her arm, turning back to look at the man. "Hey, are you alright?"

The woman stared back at him for a moment before grabbing his arm, quickly dragging him over towards the elevator. "Come on. I have to check something," she said quickly as the two stepped into the elevator.

"What are you talking about? What's wrong?"

Pepper glanced over at him before shaking her head. "I don't know yet. But I have a bad feeling about something."

Rhodey furrowed his brow. "What do you mean. Bad feeling about what?"

The woman tapped her fingers nervously against the side of her leg. "That kid. Peter. I know I've heard his name before," she explained, the elevator dropping them off on her desired floor.

Quickly stepping off, Rhodey hurriedly followed her as the pair made their way over to the office Pepper used whenever she had work to do at the tower. Stepping inside, the woman quickly sat down at her chair and typed in her password, her computer quickly lighting up.

Rhodey watched with narrowed eyes as the woman began to search through her files, the uneasy feeling in his stomach worsening when she began to dig through the encrypted files. Something was definitely off, then.

"A few months before this whole mess with the Accords, Tony asked me to keep tabs on a growing figure on the internet and social media." She started pulling up the videos she'd saved. "Anything that had to do with this guy was marked."

The video showed a red and blue clad figure swinging across the frame. Even though the costume was atrocious and the video was blurry, Rhodey instantly recognized who it was. "Hold up. That's the kid that helped us in Leipzig." He gaped, narrowing his eyes as he tried to get a better view of the figure. "Still don't know where Tony found that guy, but I have to admit, he did help us out. But what does this have to do with this intern?

Pepper turned back towards the computer. "Well, at around the exact same time, Tony also asked me to pull any information I could get on a Peter Parker."

Rhodes watched as a picture of the kid from before popped up on the screen, as well as his birth documents, school records, and other sensitive information. "I didn't really understand what the fascination with this kid was, but I didn't question it." She muttered, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the screen, the split view showing both images of Spider-Man and Peter.

"But the main thing that struck me was the coincidental timing between both of these people Tony wanted record of." She turned towards Rhodes. "After all, Tony might be a bit...eccentric at times, but everything he does, he does for a reason. Meaning there was a reason he wanted to know about this kid. There was a reason he wanted their files not only kept together, but also locked with some of our most complicated encryptions and firewalls. I knew there had to be a connection. I just didn't know what." She muttered. "I still don't."

Turning back towards the screen, Pepper stared at the images before her. The image of Peter was the same image they'd used for his security pass, a recent yearbook photo. Pepper rubbed at her temple, feeling the start of a headache working its way through her head. She flicked her gaze over towards the frozen image of Spider-Man.

Rhodey let out a small sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck, moving over towards the seat across from Pepper's desk. He winced as he lowered himself into the chair, his legs protesting loudly. He cracked open his eyes for a moment to steal a glance towards the image of the hero before shutting his eyes once more, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "God, that costume is horrible. It wasn't like that in Berlin, thank God. It looks like something a kindergartner would make," he sighed, resting his head against the back of his chair, the weariness from his flight finally getting the best of him.

Pepper, however, was now fully awake. Rhodey's words echoed in her mind as she switched her gaze from Spider-Man to Peter and back.

Or something a teenager would make.

"Oh, God..." she breathed softly, chest constricting at the possibility running through her brain.

"What? What is it?" Rhodes asked, lifting her head to stare at her.

Pepper stared at the screen for a moment longer before blinking back into reality, closing down the files with shaky fingers as she focused her gaze on her desk. "Rhodey…" She called, not bothering to lift her gaze. "In Berlin, when you were fighting with Spider-Man, did he...maybe...seem a little...young to you?"

The colonel was now rubbing his eyes again. "Um...yeah. Yeah, he seemed really young. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said he was around, maybe… I don't know...about-"

"About fourteen, maybe fifteen?"

The man furrowed his brow for a moment, opening his mouth to reply before realization hit him harder than a freight train. He instantly shot upright, eyes going wide as he turned to stare at Pepper.

"Oh, no he did not!"

Pepper placed her head in her hands as she resisted the urge to groan. "I think he did," she whispered.

Rhodey shook his head, rising up to his feet once more. "No. No, no, no. Tony may be a little crazy at times, and sure he can be a bit impulsive. But there's no way he'd ever be stupid and irresponsible enough to-"

 

. . .

 

"...son of a bitch."