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It started with a flyer.
“Next Friday, Midtown High’s junior science students will be taking a field trip to Stark Industries!”
The sentence hadn’t even finished leaving Ms. Warren’s mouth before the classroom exploded with noise.
“No way!”
“Is Iron Man gonna be there?”
“Do we get free stuff?”
Peter blinked at the sheet of paper in his hand. He already knew about the trip- Tony and Pepper had told him last week- but seeing it in an official school document somehow made it real.
“I’m gonna pass out,” Ned whispered, fanning himself with his folder. “Do you know what this means? We’re going to the literal headquarters of Stark Industries. The Stark Industries.”
“I know, Ned,” Peter said softly.
“You don’t sound excited. Why do you not sound excited?”
Peter hesitated. “Because… what if it’s weird?”
Ned paused. “Weird how? You literally work there.”
“Sort of work there,” Peter corrected. “Unofficially officially. It’s more of a mentorship-slash-I-hang-out-in-labs kind of thing. Plus, they never printed me a fake school badge because Tony thought it was funny to make me use the real one.”
Ned’s eyes went wide. “Dude. That’s awesome!”
But Peter didn’t smile. He looked down at the flyer again.
“I just-I dunno. What if no one remembers me? What if I walk in and it’s like- blank stares? Or worse, they act like they don’t know me, and everyone thinks I made it up?”
“Parker!”
Peter flinched. Flash Thompson was already halfway across the room, holding the flyer like it was a winning lottery ticket.
“Guess the jig is up, huh?” Flash sneered. “You’ve been feeding us this Stark internship crap for months- what’s the endgame? Gonna fake an email from Tony Stark next?”
“I didn’t fake anything,” Peter said quickly, voice quiet but firm.
Flash tilted his head. “Right. So, you expect us to believe that billionaire genius Tony Stark just hands out internships to random nobodies from Queens?”
Peter opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“That’s what I thought,” Flash said smugly, turning back to his desk. “This is gonna be hilarious.”
Friday morning. One week to go.
Peter was pretty sure he hadn’t known true dread until now.
“Okay, but seriously,” MJ said, walking beside him as they headed toward the cafeteria, “why do you look like you’re going to your execution?”
Peter sighed. “Because I’m gonna be walking into a building full of people who might not remember me in front of a group of people who already think I’m lying.”
“They’ll remember you,” MJ said. “They let you blow things up in their labs and talk to billionaires. You're like a science raccoon with clearance codes.”
He gave her a small smile. “Thanks, I think.”
“Also,” she added, “if they don’t remember you, just say something nerdy and they’ll fall over themselves trying to claim they trained you.”
Peter chuckled, but it didn’t last long.
Walking into the crowded cafeteria, they immediately caught Flash’s attention.
“You getting nervous yet, Parker?” Flash called across the room. “Clock’s ticking. Better get your story straight.”
Peter ignored him.
“Maybe print out a fake badge, put your name on. Or no- make it ironic. Like, ‘Penis Parker, Chief Intern of Lies.’ Has a ring to it, don’t you think?”
Peter tensed. MJ’s hand subtly brushed against his under the table. He glanced at her, and she just raised a brow as if to say: Don’t let him win.
By Wednesday, Ms. Warren herself was starting to weigh in.
“Peter, just so you know, I don’t appreciate dishonesty,” she said in front of the whole class, holding his permission slip like it might catch fire. “If this trip becomes a distraction or if I find out you’ve misrepresented anything- anything-I’ll assign detention.”
Peter flushed. “I haven’t lied about anything.”
“Let’s hope not,” she said, then turned away.
Ned muttered under his breath, “Okay, she’s officially the worst.”
“Why won’t anyone believe me?” Peter asked, more to himself than anyone.
“Because they’re idiots,” MJ replied flatly.
The bus hissed to a halt in front of Stark Tower, the iconic glass spire gleaming in the late morning sun. Midtown’s students pressed against the bus windows, gaping up at the building that towered over the city like a modern castle-sleek, impenetrable, humming with secrets.
Peter Parker’s heart pounded against his ribs. Despite the calm he tried to project, his palms were sweaty inside his sleeves. He tugged his hood up and kept his eyes low as Ms. Warren stood to address the class.
“Alright, everyone,” she called, clipboard in hand, “stay together, be respectful, and please don’t touch anything unless instructed. This is not a science fair, it’s a private facility.”
“Private,” Flash muttered under his breath to the kid beside him, not quite whispering. “Unless you’re Parker, of course, who probably bribed someone with vending machine money.”
Laughter rippled across a few rows. Peter stared out the window, jaw tight.
MJ elbowed Flash hard as she passed. “Jealousy’s not a good color on you, Thompson.”
“Don’t worry,” Flash shot back. “I’m just trying to enjoy this tour before Penis Parker gets us banned for life.”
Peter stayed silent. He could hear FRIDAY’s soft chime emitting from his StarkWatch- she must have activated her public recording protocol. She was listening, logging everything.
Outside, two SI security officers in tailored suits stood waiting by the entrance. One had an iPad in hand. The other had a biometric scanner mounted to a sleek podium.
The class filed off the bus, stretching and buzzing with excitement.
“Whoa,” Ned breathed. “Do you think we’ll see Iron Man? Or like- actual suits?”
Peter gave a noncommittal shrug, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Maybe.”
They reached the glass lobby doors, which slid open automatically.
Inside was pure sci-fi: titanium finishes, kinetic display panels scrolling Stark headlines, and a massive glowing floor-to-ceiling pillar with the SI arc reactor symbol gently pulsing at its core. A waterfall wall glided beside a panoramic security desk staffed by silent, professional-looking people in black.
Ms. Warren led the students toward the check-in podium.
“Midtown High, group of twenty-five,” she said crisply.
The security officer tapped his tablet and gestured toward the biometric scanner. “Each student, one at a time. Step up to the panel. When it scans your ID and face, you’ll get your access badge.”
Flash leaned toward Peter as the line formed. “So… how’d you hack their scanner, Parker? Steal a badge off a janitor?”
Peter sighed. “Just drop it.”
“Come on, you know they’re not gonna have your name in there.”
Peter didn’t respond.
The first few students went through easily. A quick scan, a beep, and a plastic, white visitor badge was printed with a photo and barcode. When it was Peter’s turn, he stepped forward slowly, heart hammering.
The guard didn’t ask for his name.
Instead, the moment Peter’s face hit the scanner, the machine chirped.
"Identity confirmed. Welcome back, Mr. Parker."
The screen glowed with his full profile photo-taken months ago, and the words:
CLEARANCE LEVEL 7 – R&D Intern – Authorized By: Stark, Anthony E.
Ms. Warren stepped forward, frowning. “That must be a mistake.”
The second guard turned to Peter, “Mr. Parker,” he said, “your regular ID is still active. Mr. Stark requested that it not be reprinted.”
Face red, Peter pulled out a badge from his hoodie’s pocket- unlike the others, his was sleek silver with a magnetic clip, his name engraved directly on it. Below his name: STARK INDUSTRIES – INTERNAL ACCESS.
Peter tucked it onto his hoodie like it burned.
Flash snorted. “Oh come on. Did you print that at home?”
MJ stared at Flash in disbelief, “You think he printed a metal Stark Industries badge at home…that works? No wonder you’re an alternate.”
Flash glared at her and stormed away from the scanner, towards his friends, muttering that Peter was a liar and he was gonna prove it.
Ms. Warren blinked at the guards. “I wasn’t aware Peter Parker had an active ID.”
The guard raised an eyebrow. “Ma’am, Mr. Stark personally authorized his credentials. It says here,” the guard looked down at the screen, 'It’s been active for over a year.”
Behind them, MJ was biting her lip to keep from smirking. Ned fist-pumped quietly.
“Peter’s literally in the system,” Ned whispered. “That’s so cool.”
Ms. Warren turned to Peter sharply. “Did you access Stark servers without permission? Modify their clearance logs?”
Peter took a step back, startled. “What? No- of course not!”
“I’m not sure how else this could’ve happened,” she muttered, arms crossed.
Peter opened his mouth to protest, but a soft chime sounded from his watch. FRIDAY.
“Recording logged,” she whispered gently, at a volume only he’d be able to hear. “Do not engage. Let them talk.”
He clenched his jaw and stepped back in line with the others.
Flash nudged his friend again. “Still fake. Probably bribed these guys too.”
The guard next to him gave Flash a dry once-over. “Sir, if you continue making inappropriate comments, you’ll be escorted out of the building.”
Flash paled slightly but shut his mouth.
The students finished their check-in, each getting their plain visitor badge. Peter’s silver one glinted subtly in the fluorescent light. A few kids were eyeing it now, whispering behind their hands.
The group moved toward the elevators. The moment they passed through the secondary scanners, another door slid open to their left, revealing a smiling PR liaison in a navy Stark Industries blazer.
“Welcome to Stark Tower,” she said warmly. “I’m Julia from the Public Relations Office. We’re so excited to show you around today.”
As the class filtered in, Julia gave Peter a slight nod, as though she knew exactly who he was.
Peter nodded back, trying to disappear into the floor.
In the finance office, the fluorescent lights buzzed gently above clean desks and walls lined with digital graphs. As the group filtered through, a man with a Bluetooth headset glanced up from his screen and gave Peter a small nod.
“Morning, Peter,” he said casually, then returned to his monitor.
Peter blinked. “Morning, Mr. Ashraf.”
“Who was that?” Ned whispered as they moved on.
“Budget analyst,” Peter muttered. “He… he let me sit in on a meeting once.”
Flash scoffed behind them. “Wow, you’re even roping in the interns now? What’s next- executives calling you for decision-making?”
MJ glanced over her shoulder. “You’re just mad that no one here has ever heard of you.”
Peter stayed quiet, still processing the fact that Ashraf remembered his name.
“Mini-Stark,” came a cheerful voice as they entered the PR department. Dani stood beside a digital media wall, coffee in hand. “You’re back. You here to fix my adapter cable?”
Peter gave a small grin. “I told you I’d fix the Wi-Fi last time. Not start a tech support hotline.”
“Too late,” she winked. “Come on- say hi to your fan club.”
She gestured to a few interns behind her, who looked up and waved. One of them made a heart with his fingers before quickly pretending he hadn’t.
Peter flushed.
Ms. Warren cleared her throat. “This is a public-facing department, correct? So any interaction with this student could just be a matter of curated PR.”
Peter’s stomach dropped.
“You think we’re faking knowing him?” Dani asked, incredulous. “As a…PR stunt?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time companies have used optics,” Ms. Warren said tightly. “A photo op with a local kid. It happens.”
FRIDAY’s voice chimed softly from Peter’s wrist again.
“Recording number 2 has begun. Don’t worry, Peter. You’re not alone.”
His fingers clenched around his bag strap.
The group moved on.
Getting onto the elevator, the group travelled up until they hit Floor 68: The Lab Sector.
In the biomechanics lab, a tall man that Peter recalls seeing talking to Bucky steps up to the group.
“Good afternoon everyone. My name is Dr. Matthews, and I am the director of the biomechanical lab that you all have found yourselves in.”
One of the engineers behind him glanced at Peter, paused like they were about to say something, then simply gave him a tiny salute with a wrench. It was nothing- but it meant everything to Peter.
“This is unreal,” he whispered to himself.
Peter listened halfheartedly as the lab director explained the work that they did with prosthetics, answering questions that the students asked eagerly about the neurological connections that the test subjects - “patients,” Peter corrected quietly, Flash rolling his eyes at his whispered comment- formed with the arms and legs that Stark Industries developed.
Pleasantly surprised at the intellectual level of the high school students before him, the director delves into the science that allows his patients - “not test subjects, everyone, we humanize the people we work with here”- to interact with the prosthetics on a more personal level.
Flash whipped his head around to squint at Peter, perturbed by the unknowingly repeated correction.
Ms.Warren, thanking the director for his time, pulled Peter out of his self-reflection, and he focused back on the tour as they walked out of the lab, down the hall, and into the next, very familiar, room.
The Research and Development Lab gleamed with brushed steel counters and humming consoles. Holographic projections floated midair, layered over prototype schematics. It felt like the brainstem of Stark Industries-and it was Peter’s favorite place in the world.
“Peter!” called Dr. Arjun Mehta, goggles pushed into his hair, a pencil behind his ear. “You couldn’t stay away, huh?”
Peter hesitated in the doorway, already feeling too visible.
“Sorry, we’re on a school trip,” he said sheepishly. “I’m not really supposed to- ”
“Nonsense,” Dr. Mehta waved him over. “If you’re here, we’re putting you to work. You still remember the filament alignment sequence?”
Peter’s eyes lit up. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that staggered rotation model I sent last week. Did it help?”
“Drastically. The molecular scaffold held longer under pressure. We want to test your overlap algorithm next. Come look.”
Peter drifted into the lab, instincts kicking in. He didn’t notice the awe on Ned’s face. Or the muttering from students as he moved confidently in the high-tech workspace.
MJ grinned from the glass wall next to Ned. “Look at him. Like a duck to water.”
Flash stood beside them, arms crossed. “Okay, come on. This is staged.”
“Staged?” MJ blinked. “You think Stark Industries set up an entire fake lab interaction just to gaslight you?”
“Yes,” Flash said confidently. “Obviously. Or maybe Parker paid these nerds to play along. Bribed them with… gift cards or something.”
Ms. Warren stood stiffly beside him, frowning at Peter.
“It’s unprofessional,” she muttered. “Letting a student pose as a contributor. No real lab would involve a high schooler on a serious project. Especially not… him.”
MJ’s smile dropped.
“Excuse me?” she said sharply.
“I’ve seen his grades. He’s inconsistent. This is pure favoritism.”
MJ blinked at her and then scowled. “With all due respect, which isn’t much, how could it be favoritism if they don’t know him? Pick a side and get on it.”
FRIDAY’s voice in Peter’s ear:
“Recording number 3. Noted and timestamped.”
Peter’s fingers trembled slightly as he signed into a side terminal to review the algorithm. He knew he shouldn’t let their words get to him. But they did.
The Stark Industries cafeteria was more of a sky-level food hall than anything resembling a school lunchroom.
Open and bathed in natural light, the space curved in a gentle arc with a view of the skyline. Circular seating pods surrounded sleek food stations manned by some of New York’s finest small-business vendors: steam rose from fresh bánh mì sandwiches, Ethiopian lentils simmered beside turmeric rice, and a taco truck parked right inside served carnitas with handmade tortillas.
Peter walked between stalls with MJ and Ned, quiet and heavy. He had barely spoken since the last lab.
“You should eat,” MJ urged gently.
“I’m not really hungry,” Peter murmured.
“Maybe you’re not, but your brain is. Let’s find something.”
They stopped at “Hale & Hearty Seoul”, a small Korean-fusion stand with bright yellow signage and a woman running the counter who looked only vaguely familiar to Peter. She greeted him with a casual nod and started packing a bulgogi rice bowl without asking.
“You like it spicy, right?” she asked.
Peter blinked. “Oh-uh, yeah. Thanks.”
“And the ginger lemonade?”
He nodded, quietly stunned that she remembered.
She handed him the tray with a warm smile. “Welcome back, kid.”
It wasn’t said with fanfare or surprise. Just something simple and sincere-like she saw him all the time.
That almost hurt more.
They found a quiet spot by the window. Peter sat with his back to the view, picking at his food while MJ and Ned chatted about the dessert stall across the way. He was halfway through forcing himself to eat when a soft chime echoed in his right ear, barely audible.
Peter blinked. He knew that sound.
FRIDAY was recording.
His stomach twisted. That meant something was about to happen.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“Mr. Parker,” came a clipped voice.
Ms. Warren.
Peter looked up to find her and Flash standing beside the table like storm clouds.
“Do you have a moment?” she asked, already sitting down.
Peter stiffened. MJ’s hand curled into a fist under the table.
Flash didn’t sit. He leaned against the back of a chair, arms folded, eyes gleaming.
“I’ve been thinking,” Ms. Warren began. “About your… supposed internship.”
Peter’s mouth went dry. “Okay.”
“I don’t buy it.”
Peter flinched. “Excuse me?”
“This clearance nonsense. That badge? You could’ve lifted it from someone. Swapped the name, changed the database records, and faked the chip signature. You’re smart enough to do it. We all know you’re good with computers.”
“You think I stole it?” Peter exclaimed in disbelief, at the same time that MJ growled, “The badge was engraved.”
“Why else would an AI that sophisticated recognize a high schooler as level-four clearance?” Ms. Warren leaned in, ignoring MJ. “You hacked FRIDAY.”
Peter couldn’t even speak. His chest felt tight.
Flash chuckled. “I’ve been saying it for months. He’s a fraud. Probably lives in his basement, rigging scripts to fool Stark’s systems.”
“You saw me go through security,” Peter said quietly. “You saw them let me in.”
“Because you hacked it,” Flash repeated.
Peter shook his head. “That’s not what happened.”
“Right,” Ms. Warren said coldly. “You expect us to believe that Stark Industries- Stark Industries -just lets you wander their labs? Without any paperwork that we can verify?”
“The paperwork was sent.”
“Yeah, yeah, to the principal, so you say. You can’t actually verify anything, though. All we have is a badge and a parade of conveniently friendly faces.”
“You’re a teacher. You can’t actually be this stupid.” Ned said suddenly, face uncharacteristically twisted in rage.
Ms. Warren looked at him in shock, her face growing severe in the next second. Peter put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from saying anything else.
Peter’s hands trembled under the table. He couldn’t even look at MJ or Ned.
Ms. Warren stood. “I will be reporting this to Midtown’s administration. And I will be requesting a thorough investigation. Your future in this program is in serious jeopardy, Mr. Parker.”
She walked away without waiting for a reply.
But Flash lingered.
He leaned down, just close enough that only Peter, MJ, and Ned could hear.
“Or maybe you didn’t hack anything,” he said, voice low and ugly. “Maybe you’re just screwing someone. Huh, Parker? Trading favors for fake respect?”
Peter froze.
Flash smirked. “That’s gotta be it, right? No way anyone’s this obsessed with you unless you’re giving them something back.”
The silence that followed was sharp and immediate.
Then-
“What the hell did you just say?” MJ stood so fast her chair skidded back with a loud screech.
Every head in the nearby area turned.
“Say it again, Flash,” she said, voice like ice. “Say it again and I swear to god-”
He blinked. “Relax, Jones-”
“NO,” she snapped, eyes blazing. “You’ve been pushing him around all week, calling him a liar, pretending you know anything about who he is or what he does. But this? This is low, even for you.”
Flash opened his mouth.
“Shut up!” she shouted.
The whole cafeteria fell silent.
“Peter has earned everything he’s gotten. And the only reason he doesn’t throw it in your face is because he’s better than you, in every possible way.”
Flash stared at her, face slowly turning red under the weight of hundreds of eyes.
And then he did the only thing he could do.
He turned and slinked away.
Peter sat motionless. Then slowly, quietly, he buried his face in his hands.
Executive Level, Stark Tower
Tony Stark was mid-rant about a quarterly budget report when a small holographic display blinked into existence in the corner of the room.
“Boss,” FRIDAY chimed quietly. “I believe you’ll want to see this.”
The image expanded to show Peter sitting in the cafeteria-shoulders drawn inward, MJ by his side- and Ms. Warren across from him, accusing, cold. Then Flash’s smug face, his body language oozing venom. The words were crystal clear.
Tony’s expression darkened with each passing second.
Pepper watched in silence, her jaw tightening.
When the clip ended, Tony didn’t say anything right away.
Then-
“Get Legal and Security on the line,” he said coldly. “Right now.”
Pepper nodded once. “What about the school?”
Tony’s voice was low and lethal. “We’ll call- after I’m done with them.”
The chem lab was colder than the others- clinical, sterile. Sleek white counters lined with sealed trays, robotic pipettes, and sealed reagent canisters. It was the last stop before the gift shop, and it was supposed to be uneventful.
Peter stood near the back again. He hadn’t spoken much since lunch.
His stomach still churned. His shoulder felt tight. His brain was buzzing.
MJ hovered close to his side, and Ned shot him concerned glances.
Flash stood near the center station, arms folded. His jaw was set. His eyes were locked on the demo materials in front of Dr. Levin like he was sizing them up for a fight.
Dr. Levin explained, cheerfully enough, “This station uses inert ion-reactive beads, mixed into an aqueous solution that displays color variance depending on the additive. It’s completely safe for supervised handling. However, do not attempt to mix any reactions without my express consent and instruction. These reactions can be highly volatile and dangerous if handled recklessly.”
Peter’s eyes scanned the room instinctively. Even without his senses, he knew what he was looking for: unsecured chemical pairs, exposed vents, unsealed glass. He’d spent too many weekends in this lab.
Then it happened.
A buzzing, wrong-tuned hum hit the base of his skull.
His spidey-sense.
His eyes snapped toward the tray marked CAUTION: UNSTABLE IN COMBINATION.
Flash was already reaching for it.
“Flash- don’t!” Peter shouted, instinctively stepping forward.
Flash scoffed, grabbing one of the heavy ionized beads. “What, scared I’ll outshine you, Parker?”
“I’m serious!” Peter’s voice cracked with panic. “That’s the wrong combination-”
“You’re not as smart as you thin-”
Flash dropped the bead into a container of unlabeled test solution.
The reaction was immediate.
A violent crack of pressure surged upward as the liquid erupted in steam and flame, igniting a flash-ignition compound stored underneath the station. The vial exploded- not outward, but upward, tearing through glass, chemicals, and metal alike.
A burst of superheated vapor followed, fast enough to burn skin on contact.
Peter was already moving.
He didn’t think- he acted.
His arm flung out to shield Flash. The heat struck his forearm first- liquid flame licking up his sleeve. Then came the pressure, and the glass.
Peter turned his back, bracing Flash with one arm and dragging him to the floor with the other just as the containment screen behind the station shattered, sending shards across the room.
Something stabbed into Peter’s ribs. Something else tore across his shoulder. His vision blurred.
This would’ve torn Flash apart, he thought distantly. This would’ve killed him.
The last thing he saw before the floor rushed up was MJ’s face going pale.
Then darkness.
Dr. Levin was shouting orders. Students scrambled back, screaming and crying. A sprinkler triggered above the blast site, hissing white mist down across the floor.
Flash sat in shock on the ground, untouched.
And Peter lay beside him, unmoving.
His shirt was scorched. A large piece of jagged lab glass was lodged in his side-embedded just under his ribs. The edge of a lab table had slammed into his lower back. A line of red bloomed across his left arm, where the heat had burned straight through the fabric and into flesh.
“PETER!” MJ screamed.
Ned’s voice joined hers, panicked. “HELP! He’s bleeding!”
Ms. Warren ran forward, but to Flash.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” she asked, grabbing his shoulders. “Did anything hit you? Are you burned?”
Flash shook his head numbly. “I-I don’t know. He-he pushed me.”
She whipped around. “Did Parker start this?!”
Dr. Levin was already kneeling beside Peter.
“No- he saved your student. He shielded him.”
“I told him not to interfere-”
“None of that matters right now! He needs help!”
Ms. Warren’s eyes flicked to Peter, bleeding on the floor.
She didn’t move.
Upstairs, behind a sealed glass conference room, Tony Stark and Pepper Potts sat with three members of the Stark Industries Legal Team.
A holographic screen hovered between them, playing the audio and video footage from lunch.
“You hacked FRIDAY.”
“You probably stole the badge and changed the name.”
“No way anyone’s this obsessed with you unless you’re giving them something back.”
The last sentence echoed in the room like a slap.
Pepper’s jaw was clenched.
One of the lawyers, a tall woman with gray-streaked hair, shook her head. “That’s sexual harassment from a minor toward another minor. The school can’t ignore that. We have grounds to pursue action.”
Tony wasn’t speaking. He was staring at Peter, tiny and quiet on the screen, burying his face in his hands while MJ screamed at Flash.
Then FRIDAY’s voice interrupted:
“Mr. Stark. Emergency alert - Chemical Lab C. Peter Parker is injured. Medical severity level: 9.3.”
Tony was out of his seat before the rest of the table could even process the words.
The lab was in chaos.
Steam hissed from the fractured table, and acrid smoke curled through the air. Emergency lights strobed red. A trail of shattered glass and spilled chemical fluid marked the explosion's path.
Peter lay at the center of it.
His side was drenched in blood from where a jagged shard of glass had torn deep under his ribs. His arm was blistered and raw from a chemical burn. A dark bruise was already blooming along his back from the impact with the counter.
MJ knelt beside him, hands pressed against his side, tears streaking her face.
“Help is coming, Peter. Please stay with me. Please-”
The lab doors slammed open.
Tony Stark was through them before anyone else had moved.
“Where is he?” His voice hit like a thunderclap.
Students scrambled aside. Stark security flooded in after him, but Tony was already kneeling beside Peter, breath tight, hands hovering just above the worst of the wounds.
Ms.Warren stared in shock, dread swirling slowly in her gut..
Tony reached for Peter. “Kid. C’mon, look at me.”
Peter’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy.
“Tony…?” His voice was thin. Barely there.
“I’m here, bambino. You’re gonna be okay.” Tony tried to smile, but his voice cracked. “I’ve got you.”
Peter’s brow furrowed, and his hand fumbled up weakly, catching Tony’s wrist.
“I couldn’t stop him,” he rasped. “I tried. I saw it coming. I should’ve stopped him before-before he-”
“Hey. Hey. You saved him, okay?”
“I let it happen.”
“No. No, you didn’t.”
Peter’s eyes watered, and he let out a weak, shuddering breath. “You’re gonna be mad.”
Tony blinked fast. “Mad? Kid, you could be dying, and you’re worried I’m mad?”
“We messed up the lab.”
Tony let out a choked laugh. “To hell with the lab.”
Peter’s hand clenched a little tighter.
Then his voice broke, low and trembling: “I’m sorry, Dad.”
Tony went completely still.
Peter looked up at him like it had slipped out without permission. But it was real. Raw. And it came from the part of him that had been holding it in for far too long.
Tony’s chest tightened. He gently placed his hand over Peter’s.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. And I’m right here, okay? I’ve got you, bambino.”
Peter’s eyes fluttered closed.
“Stay with me,” Tony whispered, voice hoarse. “Don’t check out now.”
But Peter didn’t answer.
His grip loosened.
Tony’s head snapped up. “FRIDAY, emergency MedBay transport. Now!”
“Transport is prepped. Route cleared. Surgical bots on standby.”
A remote-controlled medical bed steered its way into the room, stopping to the side of Peter and Tony on the floor.
Tony picked Peter up, cradling him carefully, blood soaking into the crook of his arm.
He looked back only once at Ms. Warren, standing frozen, and Flash, white as a sheet and silently shaking.
Tony’s voice was cold as steel.
“You’ll both wish you were dead when I’m through with you.”
Flash didn’t speak, shocked to his core by what had happened. Ms. Warren choked on spit and tried to speak, but Tony didn’t stick around long enough to hear what was said.
Placing Peter onto the bed, he walked out with the bed rolling effortlessly beside him, cradling Peter’s hands like he was something priceless.
In the hallway outside of the lab, the class stood in stunned silence.
MJ leaned against the wall, hands, still stained red, shaking in front of her.
Ned sat beside her, silent tears sliding down his face.
Flash hadn’t moved.
He was still staring at the floor where Peter had bled-where he should have been the one bleeding, the one hit, the one unconscious.
He whispered, almost to himself, “He saved me.”
No one said anything.
Because there was nothing left to say
The lights were dimmed to a soft gold glow, barely reflecting off the smooth steel panels of the walls. Monitors beeped steadily, displaying vitals that were finally stable.
Peter slept, curled slightly on his uninjured side, face relaxed in a way it rarely was when awake.
Tony sat beside the bed in a chair too modern to be comfortable, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. His jaw was tight. His expression was unreadable.
Aunt May stood behind him, arms folded, watching her nephew with quiet heartbreak.
“He’ll be okay?” she asked softly.
Tony nodded, still staring at Peter. “Yeah. He’s healing. Kid’s tough.”
“Tougher than most grown men.”
“Yeah,” Tony said again. “But he shouldn’t have to be.”
May sighed, stepping around to brush a hand gently through Peter’s hair. He stirred but didn’t wake.
“You know,” she murmured, “when Ben died, I used to lie awake every night wondering if I was enough. If I could protect him from the world. If I was giving him too much room or not enough. I thought I was doing okay until this year.”
Tony didn’t answer right away.
Then: “You were doing more than okay. He’s still strong and kind-hearted, even after everything. That’s you.”
May gave a small, tired smile. “And you?”
Tony’s brow furrowed. “What about me?”
“He called you Dad.”
Tony’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He didn’t mean to.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Tony leaned back, arms crossed now, staring at the boy in the bed.
“He’ll always have me,” May said gently. “But I think… he needs you too.”
Tony scoffed, “I don’t know how to be a father.”
May just smiled softly, “Funny how he sees you as his anyway.”
Ms. Warren and Flash stood by the front reception desk, surrounded by security, still stunned and pale from the explosion. The rest of the class meandered around the gift shop, periodically sneaking glances at their teacher and ostracized classmate.
Flash kept fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie. Ms. Warren clutched her clipboard like it was a lifeline.
The elevator chimed.
Tony Stark stepped out, suit jacket unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, and a look in his eyes that could melt steel.
Everyone in the lobby and gift shop froze.
He didn’t say a word at first. Just walked up and stopped two feet in front of them.
Security stepped aside like they knew better than to interrupt.
Tony’s voice was ice.
“You are both permanently banned from Stark Industries.”
Ms. Warren stiffened. “Mr. Stark, I think there’s been a misunderstanding-”
Tony raised a hand, and she shut up.
“You allowed a student to tamper with dangerous materials. You left them unsupervised. You ignored multiple warnings from Peter and my staff. Then, when he almost died saving another student,” he looked at Flash in disgust, “you checked on the wrong kid.”
Flash looked down. His face was ashen.
“You accused my intern of hacking my systems,” Tony continued, turning back to her, “of manipulating employees, of faking government clearance- then stood by while another student sexually harassed him in front of the entire class.”
Ms. Warren’s mouth parted, panic blooming. “I-Mr. Stark, please. I didn’t know he was your intern.”
“That’s the part that matters to you?” Tony asked, voice low.
She flinched.
Tony turned to Flash. “As for you-”
Flash looked up, swallowing. “I-I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. I didn’t know it would explode. He just- he always acts like he’s better-”
“I know my kid well enough to know he never once said that,” Tony snapped. “You just couldn’t handle the fact that he was.”
Flash’s face crumpled.
Tony leaned in slightly. “Consider yourself blacklisted. You’ll never work with Stark Industries. You won’t get a Stark-funded scholarship, internship, or affiliate job. Not even janitorial. If your résumé shows up in a building I own, it goes in the shredder.”
Flash looked like he might throw up.
Tony stepped back. “And as for you, Ms. Warren? I’ll be contacting your principal personally Monday morning to review the full footage of your behavior on this trip. I’ve already sent it to the school board.”
She opened her mouth. “Mr. Stark-please-I’ve worked in that district for fifteen years-”
“Then you should’ve known better.”
Tony turned on his heel.
The security team stepped in.
“Escort them off the premises,” Tony said. “And make sure they don’t even get near the curb again.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Tony walked away, neither Ms. Warren nor Flash called after him.
They knew it was over.
Peter stirred, blinking awake slowly.
The first thing he saw was the soft light above. The second was Tony asleep in the chair beside him, arms folded across his chest, head tilted to the side.
May sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his hair.
“Hey, baby,” she whispered, when she saw his eyes flutter open. “Welcome back.”
Peter shifted, winced. “Is… Flash okay?”
“He’s fine,” May said. “You’re the one who isn’t.”
Peter looked at Tony. “Did he…?”
“He saw everything,” May said. “And he handled it.”
Peter closed his eyes again, the knot in his chest finally loosening. “Good.”
He drifted back to sleep to the soft beeping of monitors and the steady sound of Tony Stark breathing just a few feet away.
Monday Morning, 7:13 AM, Midtown
Principal Morita’s office had never been so charged with tension or authority. Peter Parker sat silent and small in the corner chair, next to Aunt May, who radiated cold fury under her professional exterior. Her gaze never wavered from the teacher sitting across the desk.
To Peter’s left sat Pepper Potts, poised and pristine, her tablet glowing faintly in her lap. Beside her, Tony Stark didn’t even pretend to hide his disdain. His jaw was tight, arms crossed, expensive suit crumpling under the force of his clenched fists. He was not in the mood to play diplomat today.
Ms. Warren, once so rigid in her classroom, now looked pale and defensive. She gripped her planner like a shield. The formidable energy across from her was enough to make even the most stubborn person flinch.
Principal Morita broke the silence. “Let me begin by saying that Peter’s actions on Friday were beyond commendable. What happened during the trip should never have occurred under the supervision of school staff.”
Tony leaned forward slowly, every movement deliberate. “No. It shouldn’t have. But we’re not here for accolades.”
Ms. Warren spoke quickly, arms folded across her chest. “With respect, I had no idea Mr. Parker’s internship was legitimate. There was no personal notification given to me. No student should be able to waltz into a high-security facility without proper documentation.”
“You received the documents,” Pepper cut in, swiping her tablet once and pushing it across the desk. “Email receipt shows you opened the file on March 3rd at 10:47 AM.”
Ms. Warren’s lips thinned. “That doesn’t change the fact that I had no verbal confirmation. And frankly, it seemed implausible.”
Tony's eyes narrowed. “Implausible? You looked at a kid with a Stark badge, being greeted by name in multiple labs, escorted through private doors with level seven clearance, and decided he was what- hacking my tower for fun?”
“I thought he was lying,” she admitted, voice brittle. “I thought someone-maybe multiple people-were covering for him.”
“You thought my employees were conspiring with a teenager to fake a global security clearance system and a multi-departmental internship?” Tony repeated, incredulous. “What part of that seemed more plausible than Peter being talented?”
Ms. Warren flushed. “It was my responsibility to ensure the safety of my students-”
“And you failed,” May said, voice clipped. “You didn’t just doubt Peter. You humiliated him. You let another student harass him for days. You called him a liar in front of the class- after he walked through Stark-level security.”
“And then,” Tony added, “when my AI recorded Flash making a vile comment in the cafeteria, you did nothing. You stood there.”
Ms. Warren’s hands gripped her planner tighter. “I didn’t hear-”
“Convenient,” Pepper said coldly.
Tony’s tone dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You let a sixteen-year-old boy accuse another of trading sexual favors for recognition. And you looked the other way.”
Ms. Warren’s face drained of color.
Morita exhaled, then pushed the StarkPad across his desk. “I’ve seen the recordings. All of them. Ms. Warren, based on the events that occurred within Stark Industries on Friday, under your supervision, I have little choice but to recommend your immediate dismissal.”
Peter blinked and sat forward. “Wait.”
Tony and May both turned sharply.
Peter swallowed. “Don’t fire her.”
Ms. Warren blinked in stunned confusion.
“She was wrong,” Peter said quietly. “She didn’t listen. But… she didn’t mean to hurt me. Not really.”
May’s lips parted, but Peter kept going. “Suspend her for what she did if you have to-but don’t end her whole career.”
Morita looked stunned. Ms. Warren looked like she might cry.
“Peter…” Tony exhaled slowly. He looked to the principal. “At minimum, I want her suspended for the remainder of the school year.”
“Without pay,” May added.
Morita nodded. “Done.”
Ms. Warren’s voice shook as she stood to leave the office. “Peter… I’m sorry.”
He looked away. “I know.”
The conference room was still humming with tension from the last meeting, the walls seemingly echoing the memory of Ms. Warren’s sullen departure. Peter sat beside May, his bruised ribs sore under his hoodie, his hands clenched tightly in his lap.
Tony sat on the other side- silent, unmoving, the glow of the arc reactor low and steady under his button down. He hadn’t said much since the last meeting ended, but Peter could feel him thinking. Next to him, Pepper held her tablet like a scalpel, expression cool and unreadable.
Principal Morita opened the door. “The Thompsons are here.”
Flash entered first. His hair was messy, and his eyes were down. Gone was the smirk and swagger- he looked like a kid walking into court, already aware of the verdict.
His parents followed close behind.
Mrs. Thompson, in a navy suit and glossy heels, radiated entitlement from the moment she stepped into the room. Her lips were pinched, her gaze sharp.
Mr. Thompson, broad-shouldered and meticulously groomed, gave Tony a glance that tried to establish dominance- and failed.
Mrs. Thompson’s smile was tight. “Mr. Stark. We weren’t told you’d be joining us.”
Tony didn't rise. “I like surprises,” he quipped flatly.
“Please, have a seat,” Principal Morita said evenly.
The Thompsons sat stiffly. Flash kept his head down.
“We’ll keep this brief,” Mr. Thompson began. “We’ve already contacted our attorneys in the event that disciplinary action is taken without due process.”
May shifted in her seat.
“Oh, now you want due process,” she said, voice light but cutting. “Funny how that wasn’t your concern when your son was harassing mine all year.”
Mrs. Thompson’s head snapped toward her. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” May said. “Peter’s come home with more bruises than I can count. I told him to report it, and he said it wouldn’t help. You raised a bully. Don’t act surprised he got caught.”
Principal Morita cleared his throat. “We are here to review the incident at Stark Industries, as well as the documented history of verbal and physical harassment-”
“Exaggerated reports,” Mrs. Thompson cut in. “Teenage boys tease each other. Are we criminalizing teasing now?”
“Is that what you call shoving someone into lockers and spreading rumors?” May asked sharply. “Because I’d like to know what dictionary you’re using.”
Peter winced but didn’t look up.
“We’ve reviewed the footage,” Pepper said, flipping her tablet around. “Your son ignored three warnings, touched restricted tech, and triggered an emergency lockdown.”
“And if Peter hadn’t intervened,” Tony added, “we’d be having this meeting in a funeral home.”
Mr. Thompson scoffed. “With all due respect, Stark, your labs shouldn’t have been openly accessible to teenagers in the first place.”
Tony’s jaw tightened. “They weren’t openly accessible. That’s the point.”
Peter felt the air shift.
Then Tony leaned forward, voice low but firm. “My kid jumped in front of a flying metal table to save yours. You don’t get to paint him as the problem.”
Mrs. Thompson raised an eyebrow. “Your kid?”
Tony nodded slowly. “Yeah. My kid. Because I care what happens to him, and because he matters to me. That’s more than I can say for the two excuses for guardians sitting across from me.”
Peter’s heart dropped into his stomach.
The room blurred for half a second.
My kid.
This time, Tony hadn’t just said it in anger. He meant it. Claimed him. Right here. In front of everyone.
Peter tried not to blink too fast, his chest feeling impossibly warm.
May, meanwhile, let out a quiet breath and gave Tony the faintest nod.
Mr. Thompson bristled. “So this is what this is. A billionaire protecting his pet intern.”
May stiffened. “He’s not a pet. He’s a teenager who’s been through hell, and who still chose to save someone who made his life miserable.”
Principal Morita opened the folder in front of him. “Given Eugene’s history of harassment and the severity of the incident, I am recommending immediate expulsion.”
Mrs. Thompson’s voice cracked. “No. Absolutely not. You don’t get to throw his future away because one pathetic kid decided to be dramatic!”
Peter flinched.
“You’re going to ruin a Columbia-bound student’s life over a lab accident?” Mr. Thompson demanded. “We will take this to the board. To the DOE. To the press.”
Tony finally stood.
Not quickly. Not threateningly. Just… deliberately.
The effect was instant. Silence fell.
“Press? You think I care about the press?” Tony asked. “You think you scare me? I can tank your reputation with one tweet.”
Mrs. Thompson’s mouth opened- and didn’t close.
“I’ll blacklist him from every internship. Every grant. MIT, Caltech, Stark Futures, Horizon Labs-you name it. One call. Boom. Gone.”
Flash looked sick.
Peter’s fists clenched.
Mr. Thompson stood, his chair screeching back. “This is extortion!”
“No,” May said flatly. “This is accountability.”
Then Flash spoke.
“I deserve it.”
All heads turned.
He looked up, finally. Eyes red. Shoulders sunken. “I deserve to be expelled. I was awful to Peter. I’ve known him for years, and all I ever did was mock him. Because he was better than me. And then, when it mattered most, he saved me.”
Mrs. Thompson hissed, “Eugene, stop-”
“No!” he said, voice cracking. “You told me I was better than everyone, but I wasn’t. I messed up. I almost got someone killed. And Peter- he didn’t hesitate.”
Morita reached for the expulsion order again.
Peter stood.
“Don’t.”
Tony turned sharply. “Bambino-”
“Please,” Peter said. “Don’t expel him.”
Morita frowned. “Peter, this is serious.”
“I know,” Peter said. He looked at Flash. “But I believe he can change. And if we expel him, we take away his chance to prove that.”
Tony looked like he wanted to argue, but paused. Looked at May. Then back to Peter. Something softened in his expression.
May exhaled slowly. “He’s right.”
Principal Morita sighed. “Very well. Eugene Thompson will be placed on academic probation. He’ll lose all extracurriculars. Weekly restorative justice sessions. And a formal apology to the entire student body.”
The Thompsons looked like they were about to explode- but said nothing.
Flash turned to Peter. “Thank you.”
Peter nodded. The Thompsons walked out of the office, Flash’s mom ranting furiously under her breath as his dad typed aggressively on his phone. Neither one of them looked at Flash as he followed them out.
Tony clapped a hand on his back. “You’re a better man than I was at your age.”
May gave a small smile. “Of course he is.”
Peter’s breath hitched.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like the lonely, invisible kid in the back of the class.
He felt like he belonged.
As the group exited the main office, the hallway buzzed.
Peter spotted them first- students pressed to the windows of classrooms, eyes wide. Mouths whispering. Phones were subtly raised. A few staff members gave nods. Peter stared into the classrooms with growing horror.
MJ leaned against the window of her AP Bio classroom, eyebrows raised in amused triumph. She smirked, offering Peter a wink that made his face flush.
Ned sat two windows over, bouncing in his chair, grinning like he’d won the lottery. He mimed an explosion with his hands and gave Peter a thumbs-up.
Peter groaned. “Oh God.”
Tony, walking beside him, offered a smirk. “Gotta say, I thought I’d be the talk of the school.”
“Don’t worry,” Pepper said behind them. “You’re just the second Stark people are whispering about now.”
Peter looked rapidly back and forth between Pepper and Tony, his face growing hotter. The second Stark…?
May squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “You okay?”
Peter took a deep breath. “Yeah. I just… think school’s going to be different from now on.”
Tony clapped a hand on his back. “Different’s not always bad, kid.”
Peter looked up, gaze lingering on the curious faces in the glass.
No, different wasn’t always bad.
But it sure as hell would never be the same