Savage Peter(Made by a good friend!)
Okay, this one-shot is made my a friend of mine! Her name on wattpad is @clickingkey-boards
! So follow her, she doesn't usually make marvel one-shots, but she made this one for the fun of it! Anyways, this is a field trip one-shot! Let's get on with it shall we?
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Peter Stark was horrendously sick, carrying a superhuman version of the flu virus, which he was largely unaffected by, apart from some sniffling, but anybody he came into contact with would fall sick hard and fast. After spreading the infection to an intern he was working with and landing her in hospital, Peter was more or less in quarantine... while walking around. Still, even after all of the precautions his father took, he was still kept home from school, wandering around the tower and being completely disinfected whenever he entered a lab.
"Shame that Peter's missing the class trip," Ned commented, sitting down next to MJ. The girl looked up in acknowledgement, nodding once before going back to her phone.
Curious, Ned asked, "What are you doing?"
Seeming pleased he had asked, she half-smiled and said, "I'm speaking to Shuri, we're talking about feminism."
"You should lend her one of your feminist t-shirts," he commented, pulling out his own phone. "I think she'd like that."
"She would!" MJ said, bursting into a smile for one second before collecting herself. "Thank you for the idea."
The moment the bell rang, Flash burst into the room, shouting, "I'm here, I'm not late!"
Ned rolled his eyes. "One second, I'll give that to you. Where's Pete?"
"Superhuman flu," Flash replied, tossing down his bag. "He's not sick himself but he's carrying it. He called me a second ago, said I was the least likely to make a show of it. He asked us to film the entire field trip as well, but I think he was joking."
"I sure as fuck hope so," MJ deadpanned. "I don't have enough memory on my phone for that shit."
Flash chuckled at that, peering at what Ned was doing; looking online for new Lego sets. "Oh, new Lego sets? Get that one, my sister has it and it's great."
"Alright, boys and girls! I'm going to register you, and then we're going to find out where we're going in our surprise field trip!" Mr. Warren called out, clapping his hands once, sharply.
"Oh woopity-do, however can I bear the anticipation?" MJ muttered, earning spluttered laughs from her friends.
"Flash?"
"Present."
"Michelle?"
"MJ, present."
"Ned?"
"Present."
"Pietra?"
MJ, Ned and Flash positively death-glared their Mr Warren. Flash, the only one in his good books, said, "Peter is sick today, sir. His guardians should have called in. If not, I'll call Peter and make sure they do."
"You do that, Flash," the man dismissed.
"Why can he call you Flash but not call Peter the right name?" Ned exclaimed under his breath.
"No idea," Flash and MJ replied at the same time.
"Hey, Peter! Yeah, hello to you too, have you infected anyone else with that cold yet? Oh, come on, you know I'm only joking. Wait, he actually let Wade come over? And hasn't killed him? Really, wow, wonders will never cease. Yeah, can you get him to email or call or whatever? Otherwise teachers just think you're skipping. Hope you feel better. MJ and Ned say get well soon - well, MJ says 'don't die' but it has the same sentiment. See you!" He ended the call, pocketing his phone. "They're writing in."
Nobody was listening, too entranced by their teacher's hyped-up description of the place they were visiting. Even MJ had to admit, it sounded pretty exciting, maybe this one would actually be a calm, relaxing trip with nothing going wrong...
"We're going to Stark Industries!"
Shit.
The bus ride there was admittedly uneventful. Flash and MJ were both scrolling through Instagram, finding the most attractive person they could and leaning across the aisle to compare, while Ned scrolled through Peter's 'incorrect avengers quotes' blog and had a patented Why Am I Friends With These People? expression on his face.
When they arrived, everybody scrambled off the bus, except MJ, Ned and Flash. Ned stared up at the tower with absolute awe, still shocked even though he regularly visited the tower. Flash and MJ were equally uninterested, MJ trawling through her Dickens novel and Flash on his phone. MJ visited as often as Ned did, and Flash was often dragged along while his father met with Tony to discuss business deals - he was swiftly kicked out of the meeting room and into the Avengers kitchen, where he had bumped into a rather confused Peter Stark who was drinking a lethal cocktail of Redbull and coffee. After an awkward conversation for sorting out their differences, Peter set about helping Flash with his AP English homework while they chatted about their respective crushes.
When Happy walked over to greet the group - or rather, silently sneer while he delivered his pre-prepared lecture - MJ nodded in greeting. Flash, still slightly scared of him, waved a hand, while Ned was still too starstruck to say anything.
"You three got your passes, right?" he asked, squinting at them.
They all nodded, trailing after their class while Happy lectured them about card levels and behaving. MJ was in the middle of a rant about women's rights, only to be interrupted by Mr. Warren. "Is this tour too good for you, Michelle?"
"I come here all the time, sir, the only one here who could render me speechless is Pepper Potts," she replied in a even tone, turning back to Flash and Ned. "Peter said that Shuri and T'Challa are coming at some point this week."
"Are they?" Ned asked, grinning. "Me and Shuri are working on the R2-D2 while Peter's off with Tony."
"Shuri and I," Flash and MJ corrected simultaneously as they got into the line.
professional-loser: if this actually infects me, i'm going to fucking die.
professional-loser: i've got a normal cold, but the superflu hasn't hit me
professional-loser: yet.
likealightningbolt: ouch, hope you feel better soon! being stuffed up is horrid
GuyInTheChair: good luck with avoiding the superflu, dude
eff_the_patriarchy: i have no sympathy.
professional-loser: wow, guess which one of my friends is the master of sarcasm and dry wit??
eff_the_patricarchy: i could never guess, it's so difficult!
professional-loser: ...i hate you
GuyInTheChair: nice set up, MJ
likealightningbolt: you walked right into that
professional-loser: i did, didn't i?
eff_the_patriarchy: proud to be of service. what are you up to, anyway?
professional-loser: i was hoping to sulk in my own misery and bodily fluids in the living room but happy says this group needs a tour
professional-loser: mom made me wear a mask because otherwise i'll sneeze on all of them and give some random high schoolers superflu
professional-loser: i can't rest even when i'm sick
professional-loser: fuck. my. life.
While Peter continued complaining about how sick he felt, not expecting a response or particularly wanting one, MJ and Ned exchanged a look. "Oh. My. God."
When the elevator doors hissed and drew back, the son of Tony Stark walked out, one hand resting in the pocket of his blue skinny jeans, his white Vans as impossibly clean as the floor, clad in a Spiderman t-shirt and a yellow hoodie, a white medical mask drawn across his face to cover his mouth and nose. Unaware of the eyes on him, he continued speaking on the Stark Phone he had pressed to his ear, running one hand through his distressed curls as he spoke. Stepping out of the elevator, he thanked FRIDAY and began to text, walking towards the entrance.
professional-loser: wade and i are taking bets on how shitty my tour group is gonna be
likealightningbolt: like on a scale of one to ten...
GuyInTheChair: or like 'shit, not so shit, very shit'?
professional-loser: numerical. tour groups usually hate me because i'm so young, which makes it a 7. but because i'm sick and feel like shit, it's going to put it up to a 9.
eff_the_patriarchy: lol good luck loser
Chuckling, Peter looked up at the awaiting group and stopped in his tracks.
professional-loser: please.
professional-loser: please tell me i'm hallucinating.
eff_the_patriarchy: no can do, loser
GuyInTheChair: sorry
professional-loser: fuck this shit i'm out
professional-loser: i'm not hetero enough or awake enough or healthy enough to deal with this bullshit
professional-loser: beam me up, scotty
professional-loser: thanos, kill me again
"Poor Peter," Flash sighed.
When Peter reached the group, Mr. Warren snapped a cross, "Well, who are you?"
With his bed head, his peaky and pale look and half his face covered, Peter was near unrecognisable. He was staring at the group in abject horror, his phone gripped tightly in his hand.
"This is Peter, he'll be your tour guide for today," Happy explained, looking anything but happy about this new development. "He's Tony Stark's personal intern, the youngest in the building."
"Why are you wearing a mask?" he demanded, reaching forward to touch it. Peter yelped and backpedalled.
"Due to a... I would call it a lab accident, I'm carrying a superhuman version of the flu virus, which is more or less the normal flu to somebody like Steve Rogers, but lethal to those of non-superhuman nature. Thankfully, I'm only carrying it, so I'm perfectly fit to give a tour," Peter explained, sounding impossibly grumpy for a teenager who worked in the Stark Industries. "I apologise for the mask, let me know if you can't hear me. Anyway, let's go..."
Pausing, Peter turned to Happy, sure he had forgotten something. Before the boy could even open his mouth, Happy said, "Badges."
Peter grumbled. "I'll be back in a sec, Mr. Warren, I have to grab the badges for the group."
As Peter jogged across the lobby, Mr. Warren turned to Happy accusingly. "How does that boy know my name?"
"He's in your class, sir. With all due respect, I think it's a little offensive you didn't recognise him," Happy replied with an even tone, calling Peter back over with a wave of his hand. "Have fun, don't kill anyone."
"Thanks, Happy!" he replied, his eyes smiling. "First of all, excuse me if I skip over any points that you want me to say, I'm sick and tired and I want nothing more than to sleep for forty-eight hours. Happy's already spoken about the badge levels to you so I don't have to. Line up in alphabetical order and I'll hand you your passes out to you when you step in. Mr Warren, can you hold up the back of the line? Flash, Ned, MJ, just use the employee entrance, FRIDAY will be fine with it."
Peter handed out the badges in a zombie-like daze, the horror of the situation replaced with a painful drowsiness. After passing out the final badge, Peter passed through himself.
"Peter Stark, Clearance Level Alpha Purple," FRIDAY recited in her monotonous voice, and Peter cast his eyes up to speak to where the voice came from, though he knew there was nobody there. Although it was illogical, as she was only a piece of technology, he liked to think the AI had a soft spot for him. "Good morning, Peter. Your father would like to tell you that there is danger of a Code Green today. Agent Barton left a message for you that you have failed to pick up. Would you like to read it now?"
"Morning, FRIDAY," Peter greeted, realising that there wasn't much point in stopping FRIDAY from speaking - may as well dive straight into the deep end. Fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he wondered how terrible the message could be. If it was something about him not eating his breakfast or him failing to make his bed, he may as well have written a will right there and then. "Yeah, sounds good, FRI."
Clint's voice burst from the speakers, making everyone in the group jump. "Hey, Pete, if you go out today, can you grab some Chinese? Bucky's trying to cook tonight and we need a backup plan in case he sets the tower on fire."
Peter laughed despite the situation he found himself in, his mask muffling the sound. "FRIDAY, send a message to Agent Barton."
"What would you like to say, Peter?"
"Oh... I might not do it, Mr. Barton, but I can run out and get it later if Mr. Barnes combusts the kitchen," he said, stumbling over his words as he remembered the way he should address the others.
"Message has been sent to Agent Barton, also known at Clint Barton, or Katniss," FRIDAY replied, humor in her mechanical voice. "Your vitals are heightened, would you like me to contact your father?"
Peter shook his head. "It's fine, FRI, he already knows. When are Shuri and T'Challa getting here?"
"They have moved their trip forward to today, both send their well wishes," FRIDAY replied.
"Tell them thanks. Also tell Shuri that, if I get her or her brother sick, it could be fatal. I wouldn't want to be that guy."
"Message sent, Peter. Is that all?"
"Yeah, FRIDAY. Have a good day!"
"Have a good day, Peter, get well soon."
"Thank you."
Two minutes into the tour and Peter had already fainted once. After packing his entire class into the elevator, Peter commanded FRIDAY to take them to floor 25, leaning back against the wall and taking in the atmosphere. Next thing he knew, he had crumpled to the ground and woken with a start, passing it off him rolling on his ankle. Deep down, he knew he should admit defeat and sulk back to the penthouse to curl up in Wade's arms with a blanket and his old teddy, but he had come too far to turn back.
"This is the first R&D lab. I'm afraid you'll all have to wear goggles in this room, because things tend to explode. Regardless of whether or not they're supposed to." Peter unhooked a lab coat from the pegs and pulled it on, taking a pair of fitted goggles from the pocket and putting them on his face. The stitching on the breast of white lab coat read 'P. B. STARK' in block, black capitals.
"Peter Benjamin Stark?" Flash guessed, and Peter nodded.
Ned instantly darted over to one of Peter's commercial projects, TOAST-EE, which remembered everyone's preferred toast choices and served all the interns that either forgot or couldn't be bothered.
Peter was leaning up against a bench while his class explored, his eyes drooping as he tried to stay awake for just one... more... second...
"Pietra!"
Peter started awake, automatically reaching for his phone to call his dad. "Yes, Mr. Warren?"
"Pietra, I understand that your aunt's passing has put you in a difficult position but you need to step down from this lie now. I noticed you slipping something to an intern earlier, which is going too far. You know it's illegal to pay people to do your bidding and keep a lie for you," Mr. Warren scolded, stepping too close to Peter's face for comfort. "Your lab coat doesn't even match your name. You've been given too many chances, Pietra. After this trip, I'm having you removed from the Decathlon team."
Squinting, Peter tried to remember what he had slipped to an intern... In an instant, he remembered. As he led his class to the elevator, he had exchanged concept plans for 'Project Pyjamas', which was his suit, and a whispered addition with an intern walking the other way. And as for his lab coat... It didn't say P.P. Pietra Parker, the name that made him want to throw up.
At the notion that he would be off the Decathlon team, Peter's chest tightened. No... "Yes, sir," he sighed heavily, taking off his lab coat and moving to hang it back up.
"Peter! Come over here!" Ned shouted.
Mr. Warren shouted right back. "Ned! We have spoken about calling your classmates their correct names! Do not use those slurs Pietra has encouraged you to use!"
Peter shrank back against the lab coats hung on the wall, screwing his eyes shut. The wall vibreated with the shouts of his classmates and Peter felt as if his mind was buzzing along with them. Falling to the ground, Peter pushed himself into the corner, trying to hide behind the cloaks of heavy white fabric, clamping his hands over his ears.
His mind was whirring so fast Peter was afraid it would spin out of control. He wasn't on the Decathlon team and his classmates were shouting and there were machines blaring and there were footsteps everywhere and someone was touching his shoulder and it was all too loud, too loud, too loud...
When Peter woke up, the lab was impossibly quiet, cloaked in a calming, still, not-quite-silence. Just the sound of a soft voice and his own laboured breaths.
"Pete? Come on, stay with me, babe. It's quiet now, you'll be alright."
As his eyes flitted open, he caught sight of a group of people pressed up against the window that looked into the lab. Did he know them? He recognised two - no, three - then another and another. An older man glared daggers at him, ones that bore into his chest with all the aggression and pain of a thousand attacks.
He closed his eyes again.
"C'mon, baby boy, you can do it. I saw you open your eyes, you've got to keep them open, I promise it's okay for you to do that, you'll be alright."
The voice was warm, like honey; it made him sleepy and woozy, it was impossibly comforting. He blinked his eyes open again to see a blur of red and black that looked incredibly concerned for the person curled up in his lap. It was Wade. Who was Wade? Wade was his boyfriend. Wade was nice - lovely, in fact, perfect.
"Wade?" he mumbled in a sleepy daze.
Knowing that Peter had a tendency to wake up having forgotten nearly everything about his life, Wade was pleased Peter had actually remembered who he was. "That's me, baby boy. Come on, can you sit up?"
Peter shook his head numbly. "I wanna cuddle. I wanna sleep. I don't wanna go."
Wade noticeably flinched at that: the famous phrase 'I don't wanna go' was plastered all over the internet and wound into emotional tributes Wade much regretted watching. "We can cuddle and sleep later, baby, we've got to get you out of this lab first."
"Okay, can I stand now?" Peter requested after a moment of silence.
"You sure you're okay to go back to class, baby boy? You don't have to."
"No, I wanna. I have something to prove to them. Help me up?"
Wade nodded, lifting Peter to his feet and making sure he could stand up on his own. "Go be super, baby boy," he teased under his breath.
Peter punched his arm. "Nope, you're staying. I'm not having anyone else wake me up if I shut down again." Lowering his voice, he added, "If anyone else woke me up, I'd probably send them a clear twenty feet and accidentally kill them with webbing."
Wade burst out laughing. "If Bruce comes in, I've gotta get the fuck out of here before he Hulks out. The both of us know he hates me."
"Nah, he won't," Peter shrugged as they left the lab hand in hand, turning to face his class and taking a breath, this time with new-found confidence from having Wade beside him. "Uh, sorry 'bout that, guys. If things are bright and loud I just shut down. Exhibit A, when I passed out during the awards ceremony. Exhibit B, just then."
"Can we move on?" Wade added. "Pete might fall over if we don't start walking."
"Pietra, this has gone too far. Lookalikes are incredibly expensive to obtain and we both know that you shouldn't spend so much money on sticking to a lie."
Three teenagers that loomed behind him had a whispered conversation on how much it would cost to pay the infamous merc-with-a-mouth to break his five-month kill streak and brutally murder their teacher.
Peter blanched and buried his face in Wade's shoulder. Carefully, Wade helped Peter lean against a pillar in the room, then turned on Mr. Warren and whipped out a katana. "Don't you dare say that to Peter, you-"
"Wade..." Peter complained, standing up and yanking boyfriend back. "You have a six month no kill streak, Wade, don't break it."
"So I can't un-alive him?"
"No."
"I can't even kill him a little bit?"
"Wade... I will personally get Tony to drop-kick you off the roof. No, you cannot."
Wade rolled his eyes, sheathing his weapon. "You're no fun."
"I'm sensible," Peter retorted, holding out a hand. "Ten dollars for the death jar. I'll give it to Steve when I see him."
The team watched the altercation with a mixture of shock and amusement.
One of Peter's classmates, who was the youngest and also the smallest, piped up and said, "You have a death jar?"
Peter nodded cheerfully. He had always liked Elouise, she was cheerful and funny, and seemed to have an endless repertoire of bad jokes up her sleeve. "Yep! Every time someone makes a death threat, we have to add in some money. One dollar for threatening each other, two if it's in that person's presence, five for threatening someone outside the tower, six if it's a civilian, and ten if a weapon is involved."
Everyone apart from Mr. Warren burst out laughing at that.
"They also have a separate jar for whenever Peter makes a self-deprecating joke."
"Shut up."
"FRIDAY, Peter just told me to sh-"
"Code Green on Floor 49. Code Green on Floor 49. Code Green on Flo-"
If anybody else was able to understand Wade and Peter's subtle conversations through eye contact, they would have seen a frantic jumble between 'What got Bruce so angry?', 'Oh my god, that's this floor!', 'Hulk doesn't hurt kids, right?' and 'I really hope you have a plan, Pete.'
"What's a Code Green?" Mr. Warren asked irritably. Of course, while Peter and Wade were formulating a plan, all the teacher saw was them looking at each other in silence.
"Code Green means Hulk and that means danger. Technically the only people in danger in this room are you, mister whatever-the-hell-your-name-is, possibly me because I have no idea who the Hulk considers a child, Peter over here, and whoever he's targeting."
"You think he's after someone?" Peter asked in surprise. Wade's response was a pretty flippant, "Well yeah, no shit."
"Do you think he was watching security footage?"
Wade shrugged. "I'll go see what the fuck is going on, I'll warn you if he gets near this room." He pulled the cover of a vent in the ceiling and climbed inside. "Sexy motherfucker out!"
Peter only spared a moment to wonder why this was the person his heart was set on. "Okay. Mr Warren, you're in the most danger. You need to go up to the next floor with as many people as you can. Literally just stand in the corridor, he won't get to you. I need Ned, MJ and Flash here in case the Hulk does accidentally harm me."
"How do you know all this?" Abe asked.
"Uh- there's been a few unfortunate Hulk-out incidents, as well as purposeful ones when I test whatever new tech I'm working on."
A bang sounded down the corridor and Peter yelled, "GO!"
The science class waited anxiously in the hallway above, some laying on the ground with their ears pressed to the floor to try and hear was was going on downstairs, with little success due to the excellent sound-proofing all over the building. The only sound from down below was the terrifying crashes and screams that echoed up the elevator shaft.
"Is Pietra here?" Mr. Warren asked. "Or has she run off again?"
With an ice in his voice that even his usual cheer couldn't mask, Peter stepped out of the elevator, hands clasped to his side, being helped along by Ned. They were flanked by a silent MJ and Flash - Flash because he was checking his father's stocks in the worldwide market, MJ because she was delving into the deep web to see what Deadpool's rates of payment were. "I'm chill, don't worry."
"You have a really bad bruise all up your side," MJ pointed out.
"Oh yeah, Hulk chucked me because he didn't recognise me. Nothing too serious, I've seen him do much worse."
"How?!" Mr. Warren nearly shouted.
Peter winced. "Helmet cameras and sh-tuff."
"Shtuff," MJ, Flash and Ned mimicked.
Peter flicked Flash and MJ on the ears, then shoved Ned playfully.
Before Mr Warren could launch into one of his famous rants, a voice sounded from the ceiling, scaring multiple students to the floor. "Peter Stark, did you just go against every single safety protocol in this building and fight Hulk with your bare hands even though you could have-"
"FRIDAY, send a message to Spangles!" Peter half-shouted, frantically cutting off Steve's message.
"Sending a message to Steve Rogers."
"He was going after one of my classmates, Steve! I couldn't just stand there! And anyway, you know I know exactly what to do! Come on, you guys were all in the penthouse, what should I have done?!"
It seemed FRIDAY was clever enough to sense it was going to be a back-and-forth conversation and connected them to a call, Steve's next message coming from the phone in Peter's pocket. "Pete, seriously! You could have died! And you know how your dad would-"
"Alright, alright, I get it! I shouldn't have done that!" Peter shouted at his phone, gesturing to the others to walk ahead. "Can you have a go at me after school, please! We can skip training and you can just PSA-voice me for an hour!"
Laughing, Peter spluttered, "Yeah, okay, I'll see you later. Bye!"
They had progressed through several other labs before FRIDAY spoke again. "Princess of Wakanda, Clearance Level Alpha Purple. Good afternoon, Princess. Would you like me to alert the Avengers of your presence in this lab?"
Shuri completely ignored FRIDAY's greeting, darting inside the lab and looking around. "Pe-eter? It's your dearest friend, Shuri!"
Peter squeaked in surprise. "Shuri! Oh my god, why are you here?"
Shuri rushed over and leapt at her friend. "Peter! Or as Thor would say, Peter, son of Stark!"
He shot Shuri a look of panic but was really too pleased to mind. "Shuri, these are my Decathlon teammates. And Ned, you know Ned."
"Oh my god, Ned! How's the R2-D2 going?" she asked, jumping onto the lab table, sitting on her knees and peering over at Ned happily.
"Good, actually! We finished it," Ned replied, still a little in awe of the hyperactive meme queen that was Princess Shuri.
"And guys... meet Shuri, my favourite lab partner aside from Ned and also the Princess of Wakanda."
Shuri gasped, a hand over her heart. "I'm only your second favourite?! Pete, I thought we were friends!"
They dissolved into laughter.
"Oh, and which one of you is Mr. Warren?" Shuri asked.
Most of the group pointed to Mr. Warren.
"I don't like you," Shuri said in a matter-of-fact voice. "You're unkind to Peter. Oh, and teacher-dude?" Shuri added, her air of superiority surrounding her again as she reached out a hand and - as if it physically pained her to touch him - placed two fingers under Mr. Warren's chin and tilted his head up. "My eyes are up here, dickhead."
The class dissolved into laughter as Shuri stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm going to go and bother Mr Stark with vine references until he lets me see Spiderman's suit. Which one annoys him most?"
"Uh, I can give you advice on what not to do?" Peter offered, shrugging awkwardly. Shuri nodded enthusiastically. "If you yeet something, triple check it isn't important. On three separate occasions, Spiderman has yeeted Bucky's arm, Steve's shield and Thor's hammer."
"He's worthy?" Flash blurted.
"Of course he is," Shuri said dismissively, as if she was announcing the weather would be cloudy tomorrow. "Oh, and Pete? Wade's going to be up in a second, he got pulled into sparring with Bucky."
"I wonder how he convinced Steve to let him do that," Ned muttered, and Peter gagged because the mental imagery was too much to handle.
"I'll catch you later, Shuri. If you go into my lab, don't touch anything on the Important table and don't try and do my homework for me."
"Ooh, what homework is it?"
"AP English," Peter replied. "Why?"
"Okay, thanks Peter! I'm gonna try and do it for you!"
"Shuri, you are the reason I failed my last assessment!" Peter shouted after her, grumbling when she stepped into the lift. Shuri had written an essay about vines that was totally unrelated to the topic, and Peter had turned it in his sleep-deprived state.
"I like her, I need to get her phone number," MJ announced, breaking the silence.
"No!" Peter yelped. "If you teamed up with Shuri would would build a company to rival SI within a day!"
The group of friends promptly burst out laughing.
"What would you call it?" Ned asked.
"MJ Industries, obviously. Shuri can run all the operations of the company, I'll be the charismatic face of it. Easy!"
"Remind time to keep you as far away from Shuri as I possibly can."
Several students had stopped to stare as Peter spoke with the princess, who acted less like a princess and more like a bubbly teenage girl who happened to be very excited about English homework and R2-D2 robots.
"Change of plan," Peter blurted, making everyone in the group turn to him. "Back in the elevator, we're going to go and see the private labs of Tony Stark's intern."
Peter knew it was a bad idea. A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad idea. But he pressed on, bringing his class up in the elevator and stepping out into the lab.
For once in his life, Peter didn't care about subtlety: all he wanted to do was to throw himself into his father's arms and cry his heart out until he couldn't breathe. After his breakdown in the R&D lab, Peter's mask had been cast aside, leaving his pinched and pale complexion clear for all to see, showing how his lips were bitten raw and bleeding and how trails of tears streaked down his cheeks. "Dad!" he choked out through a sob, feeling the floodgates burst open as he rushed across the room, barely giving his father a chance to set down the webshooter he was working on before Peter launched himself at him throwing his arms around his neck.
"It's awful, Dad. I'm off the Decathlon team and everyone's been shouting and even Wade couldn't stop how loud it was and I overloaded and everyone saw and please make it stop, please," Peter begged, sobbing into the shoulder of his father's expensive bespoke suit, soaking the fabric with tears.
"Shh, Pete. Slow down, okay? Your old man can't keep up when you speak so fast," he chided, rocking Peter slightly back and forth, not caring that his suit was getting ruined. "Meet me in the middle here, kid: why are you off the decathlon team? You're the goddamn best Midtown has!"
"Because he says I'm lying about the internship and that I don't understand how lying could be seriously detrimental to my record, my future careers, and Stark Industries. And they won't listen to me, Dad!"
Sighing, Tong pulled Peter against his chest again, running a hand through his hair and leaning his head down to whisper in the boy's ear. "I'll deal with it, don't worry. I can sue that man off the face of the earth, just give me the green light."
Peter giggled at that. "You can't do that, Dad!" he laughed, pulling away and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "Can they come in and look around?"
Tony nodded wordlessly, waving for Peter's dumbstruck classmates to come inside. "Come on in, just don't touch anything without me, FRIDAY or Peter giving you the green light, got it?"
Terrified of the genius billionaire philanthropologist's wrath, they all agreed timidly and scurried in, peering at the items as if they were in a museum.
When Tony turned back to Peter, he did a comical double-take. "You don't have a mask! Kid, you could have given me the superhuman flu! Where is it?"
He shrugged sadly. "I don't know. I think someone pulled it off me while I was unconscious in the lab. Sorry."
"It's okay, kid, I'll grab you another one," he assured the teenager, pulling one from his desk drawer. "Here you go, I'm just going to talk to Steve and Bucky about something."
"You can't have them kill my teacher," Peter warned, and Tony did what could only be classified as cackling.
"It'll be fine, Peter," he assured the boy, ruffling his hair and power walking out of the room.
Flash, MJ and Ned rushed over, Ned pulling Peter into a tight hug that Peter gladly accepted. MJ gave Peter a once-over to check that he was alright, while Flash squeezed his shoulder and asked, "Are you okay, man?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. Just... bleh. If I hear me dead name one more time..." Peter sighed.
"Get this, Mr. Warren was legit fangirling over Spidey earlier," Ned replied, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Was he? Huh, serves him right!" MJ replied, leaning over to pick up a webshooter. "Huh, this is alright."
Peter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it is alright. I-" Before he could finish, he picked up on something, freezing as he traced whatever was causing his spider senses to go into overdrive. As if he were a robot, his arm shot out to point at the vent. "Clint," he announced.
There was a crash and a thud and Hawkeye tumbled out of the vents. "Hey, Pete? Chinese or Thai tonight, you're the deciding vote!"
"Uh... Chinese, have counted Wade in?" he asked, grinning at the man with his bow and arrow.
"Oh, shoelaces, no," Clint cursed, looking about the room. "Hey, Ned?"
"Yeah, Clint?" Ned asked, looking a little star struck.
"Chinese or Thai? If Wade picks Thai you'll be the deciding vote."
"Uh...Thai," he decided, grinning at Peter.
MJ rolled her eyes. "I'll pick Chinese."
"Same," Flash added.
Clint hoisted himself up into the vent. "Cheers, Pete!"
Rolling his eyes, Peter turned to his classmates, who were staring in astonishment. "Okay, now we have the Avengers meet-and-greet."
Ned frowned at Peter, who seemed unusually happy. "What's up? I thought you were sick."
Adjusting the white mask on his face, Peter replied, "What do you mean?" His tone held too much mischief for comfort.
"Will Spiderman be there, Peter?" Abe asked curiously as they headed down in the lift to the conference room it was being held in.
"Yeah, maybe," he replied, his face giving nothing away.
Stepping into the conference room, Peter rushed at his father once again, letting himself be wrapped in a tight hug.
"Oh my god, it's Captain America," was the general response to seeing Steve, followed by a slightly dumbfounded, "Is he holding hands with The Winter Soldier?" from Flash.
"Has your teacher bothered you again, kid?" he asked quietly.
Peter shook his head. "No, I'm okay. I'm happy."
Tony leaned down and kissed his forehead in a familial way. "That's good, kiddo. You feeling alright?"
"Pietra, come back over here at once! Mr Stark doesn't want to be bothered by silly little school girls!"
Tony flared with anger. "Can I?" he whispered.
Peter nodded.
"Sir, were you addressing my son here?" he asked, ruffling Peter's hair. Peter grinned, his eye crinkling up in the corners.
"I- uh..."
"Yeah, exactly what I thought," he replied coldly, leaving the gathering of Avengers behind him to glare at the man while he spoke to Peter.
"Are you alright?"
Crossing his fingers behind his back, Peter made his voice hoarse. "No, I think it's getting worse. Can I go to my room?"
"Yeah, of course, kiddo," Tony assured him, pulling Peter into a tight embrace. Raising his voice to address Mr Warren, he said, "Peter's not feeling well, so he's going to head up to his room if you don't mind."
White as a sheet, Mr. Warren nodded.
Swiping his keycard to enter his room, Peter collapsed on his bed, exhausted from the social activity when all he wanted to do was sleep. As he curled up on the comforter, a soft voice cooed, "Hey, baby boy," instantly soothing from its calm tones and inflections. Relieved, Peter relaxed into the older boy's chest with a sigh, and felt a gentle hand running through his curls, Wade's free arm wrapping around his middle from behind. "How are you feeling?"
"Kind of terrible, if I'm honest," he confessed, groaning with tiredness and turning to bury his face in Wade's chest. "But you're here so... it balances out."
"I love you so much," Wade whispered, making Peter slush dramatically.
"I love you too," he replied, Wade's reaction akin to his.
"Why are you up here, then? I thought you had something to prove."
"Oh, I do." Peter straightened up and took two super painkillers from the box beside his bed.
"I'm going to suit up, give me a moment."
Peter emerged from the bathroom in his suit, grinning through the mask. The voice enhancer sewn into the mask changed the inflections and intonations of his voice, making it easier for him to inconspicuously catch criminals around his classmates without getting caught. "Let's go."
Tony Stark blamed his heart problems entirely on the devilish boy he called his son: Peter Benjamin Stark. Although he knew the Spider and his antics inside out, he was still shocked when Spiderman entered the room via falling through the ceiling and yelling, "YEET!"
"Jesus Christ, Spidey!" he shouted, putting a hand to his chest. "You are the reason I have heart problems!"
"You can afford to get them treated, Mr. Stark, unlike your resident homemade superhero," he sniped back, sitting cross-legged in the ceiling. "Hey, Midtown, how goes your super boring tour?"
The class broke out of their shock and grinned at the boy sat on the ceiling, waving at them and joking about how 'boring' SI was. "It's been good!" Abe shouted back.
"Wow, you actually made some people pay attention to a tour, Tony, impressive!" the Spider replied.
"Alright, Underoos, hush it!" Tony snapped, though he was smiling. "Right, who has the first question?"
After an awkward pause, Ned, blurted, "Has someone ever fallen from a window?"
"When Peter first introduced Tony to Wade, Tony drop-kicked him out of the penthouse window," Clint said nonchalantly.
Everybody in the room fell about laughing, including Deadpool himself, who had just entered.
"Who- uh, what's the best thing about having such a weird and crazy family?"
With a warm kind of happiness washing over him as he thought about the answer, Peter leaned over to discreetly wrap an arm around Wade, and spoke up. "It's never boring. I can come home from school and catch the strangest things happening between the most powerful people in the world, whether it be Loki and Captain America studying memes, Thor trying to apply pink nail polish, or T'challa losing Mario Kart to Shuri. At first, it was completely unnerving, knowing all these amazing Avengers, but I soon hit my threshold for weirdness and it just became the norm. On a normal day in the common room, Tony 'll help me with my homework and Spangles will be painting and flirting, and Katniss 'll be in the vent and Bucky will be trying and failing to watch a movie and Nat will clean her nails with a blade and Wanda will be doing yoga and Bruce will be sat in the corner trying to ignore how weird we are. It's this amazing mash-up of personalities and opinions and sometimes we clash and argue and fight. But there's one thing I can say for certain: we'll always fight in each other's corners."
Everybody was shocked by the sentimental response, especially Tony, who hugged the smaller hero tightly. He grinned through his mask.
FRIDAY spoke up before anybody could break the silence.
"Boss, Dum-E is attempting to offer oil smoothies to two interns in the R&D lab," she announced.
Everybody in the room burst out laughing.
"Pete, go sort it out," Tony ordered, smiling and nudging the boy's shoulder.
"On it, Dad!" he grinned, slinging himself across the room to the door. He only turned around when Wade coughed loudly.
"Oh, fuck."
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