The last bell of the day rang, and Peter was already halfway through shoving his books into his backpack when Mr. Harrington’s voice cut through the noise of scraping chairs and students making a break for the door.
“Hold on! hold on—everyone!” Mr. Harrington called. “If you’re on the Decathlon team, stay after for a moment.”
Peter froze.
What now?
His stomach dropped. Stay after? That never meant anything good. Not when you’re Peter Parker. Mr. Harrington’s announcements were usually either homework-related (already a nightmare) or—worse—some kind of impending doom.
This can’t be good. Please don’t let it be a quiz.
Peter tried to act casual, but inside, he was already panicking.
“What’s going on?” Ned whispered, leaning over to him.
“Probably something awful,” Peter muttered, shifting in his seat. Across the room. Flash Thompson was smirking, clearly enjoying Peter’s growing anxiety. Peter wasn’t sure what was worse—Flash’s smug satisfaction or the fact that he had no idea why they were being kept after.
MJ, of course, looked entirely unfazed. “I’d bet good money it’s more of Mr. Harrington’s ‘surprise assignments.”
Peter ran a hand through his hair, trying not to spiral. “I swear, if we have to do another essay about—what was it, ‘How the Pythagorean Theorem Shapes the World?’—I might just have to leave the country.”
“That’s the spirit,” Ned muttered.
Mr. Harrington clapped his hands. “Alright, alright, gather around, team,” he said, way too upbeat for Peter’s liking. “I have something exciting to announce. And don’t worry, it’s not a test or extra homework.”
Pete almost relaxed.
Almost.
Then Harrington smiled. And that’s when Peter knew—knew deep in his soul—that this was about to be so much worse than a test.
“So!” Mr. Harrington continued, practically beaming with excitement. “I am thrilled to let you know that this Friday, we have been given the opportunity to take a field trip to… drumroll, please—Stark Industries!”
Peter’s brain short-circuited.
The words hit him like a train, flattening every thought in his head.
Stark. Industries.
No.
Nope.
That was a bad sentence.
“That’s...” MJ blinked, clearly surprised. “Huh.”
“What?” Peter choked out.
Mr. Harrington, still smiling, nodded. “That’s right! A full tour of Stark Industries, including a look at their research and development labs, a guest lecture from some of their lead engineers, and even—get this—a Q&A session with the Avengers!”
Peter was going to throw up.
Flash finally spoke up, and of course, this was his moment to shine.
“Oh, this is perfect,” he said, practically bouncing in his seat. “Hey, Penis, maybe Stark will finally confirm that your ‘internship’ is just you running coffee for the janitors.”
Peter blinked once. Then twice.
And then, with zero hesitation, he deadpanned, “Oh, yeah, totally. That’s exactly what I do. Sometimes, if I’m really good, they let me sweep.”
Flash scoffed. “I’m just saying, wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself when Stark doesn’t even know who you are.”
Peter forced a smile so tight it could’ve cracked concrete. “Yeah, man. Super worried about that.”
Ned, watching the interaction unfold, leaned in and whispered, “Dude. You’re gonna die.”
Peter exhaled sharply. “Oh, I know.”
Meanwhile, Mr. Harrington continued, blissfully unaware of Peter’s very real crisis. “I’ll be handing out permission slips—”
“Oh, great, a permission slip for my impending doom,” Peter muttered under his breath.
“—and you’ll need to return them by Thursday. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I strongly encourage you to take it seriously.”
Peter stared blankly at his desk. This wasn’t just bad. This was colossally, unbelievably, end-of-the-world bad.
“Hey, Penis,” Flash said, leaning back in his chair with an infuriating smirk, “think you’ll get to show off some of your intern skills?”
Peter grinned. “Yeah, I was actually planning on hacking into their mainframe and renaming all their files to ‘Flash Thompson Sucks.’”
MJ let out a quiet snort.
Flash rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just don’t get kicked out before the tour even starts.”
Peter hummed. “I’ll try my best.”
MJ leaned over. “On a scale from one to imminent disaster, how bad is this gonna be?”
Peter dragged a hand down his face. “Oh, this is so far past imminent disaster. We’re in full-blown, catastrophic meltdown territory.”
Mj nodded sagely. “Cool, cool. Can’t wait.”
Neither could Peter.
Thursday night. T-minus 12 hours until total humiliation at Stark Industries.
There were so many ways this could go wrong.
He could run into Tony. Tony could out him as Spider-Man in front of everyone. Or, worse—Tony could pretend not to know him, and Flash would never let him live it down.
Peter sighed, staring out over the city skyline from his perch on a rooftop. He just needed one night to clear his head, get his stress levels down, and then he’d figure out how to survive tomorrow.
Just one night. No major fights. No near-death experiences.
…Which meant, obviously, that the moment he swung off the rooftop, he heard gunfire.
Because, of course.
Peter groaned, twisting midair to change course. Couldn’t New York go five minutes without a crime happening?
He landed on the edge of a rundown convenience store and peered down. Below, a group of guys were yelling at each other in an alley, one clutching his arm while another waved a gun around.
Yep. That was a whole illegal weapons deal gone wrong.
This was supposed to be an easy night.
Peter took a breath and jumped down, shooting a web at the guy’s gun before he even had time to react. ‘Hey, fellas! Quick question—do you think Stark would still let me go on this field trip if I showed up full of bullet holes?”
The guy spun, now very much aware of Spider-Man standing five feet away from him.
“Yeah, didn’t think so,” Peter muttered.
What followed was approximately five minutes of bad decisions.
Peter ducked a punch, dodged a knife, webbed two guys to a dumpster, and managed to crack at least three more jokes before—
Pain. Sharp. Burning.
Oh.
That was a knife.
It took Peter a second to process it, but yeah. He’d been stabbed.
He webbed the last guy to a wall before stumbling back, pressing a hand to his side. His glove came away warm and sticky.
Great. Awesome. Totally fine.
He needed to get home. Fast.
With a deep breath, Peter fired a web and swung into the night, already regretting all of his life choices.
A few hours later, Peter woke up in pain.
His side ached, his head felt foggy, and the stupid Stark Industries field trip was in exactly two hours.
This was fine.
He could do this.
( He absolutely could not do this. )
May, sipping coffee in the kitchen, squinted at him when he shuffled in. “You look terrible.”
Peter forced a smile. “Thanks, May. Love you too.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did you sleep?”
“Yep.” For three hours.
“Did you eat?”
“Totally.” No.
May sighed but didn’t press it. Instead, she pointed at the kitchen table. “Eat something before your trip, okay?”
Peter nodded and sat down, fully intending to listen—until he took one bite of toast and immediately felt like throwing up.
Yeah. Nope. Not happening.
Instead of eating, he focused his remaining energy on the one act of pettiness he could still control.
At 5:42 AM, running on pure spite and a bottle of blue Gatorade, Peter made the critical decision to hack into Stark Industries and rename every single non-essential file to “Flash Thompson Sucks.”
Blueprints? Flash Thompson Sucks - Final (2).pdf.
System logs? Flash Thompson Sucks - DO NOT DELETE
Internal memos? Flash Thompson Sucks More Than Previously Estimated.
He even got creative with some:
Flash Thompson Sucks, But You Already Knew that
A Deep Dive Into Why Flash Thompson Is The Worst
Flash Thompson’s Ego Vs. Reality: A Case Study
Peter sat back, blinking at the screen.
This was a terrible idea.
It was also the funniest thing he had ever done.
And in his sleep-deprived, slightly feverish state, he made the mistake of thinking: Tony Stark isn’t gonna notice, right?
By the time Peter actually arrived at Midtown High, he was barely functioning.
His side throbbed. His brain felt like static. And he was pretty sure he hadn’t slept.
“Hey,” Ned greeted as Peter slumped into his seat. “You look—oh my god, did you die last night?”
Peter groaned, shoving his face into his arms. “Don’t even talk to me, man.”
MJ raised an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know?”
Peter peeked at her through his fingers. “Define ‘want to know.’”
Ned narrowed his eyes. “Peter… what did you do?”
Peter didn’t answer.
Because just then—his phone buzzed.
A single message. From Tony Stark.
Mr. Stark : YOU LITTLE SHIT
Peter sat up so fast he almost fell out of his chair. “Oh no.”
MJ frowned. “Oh no?”
Ned started to panic. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘OH NO?!’”
Peter opened the message.
Mr. Stark : Fix it. Fix it NOW.
Followed immediately by:
Mr. Stark : Actually, never mind. Too late. FRIDAY just announced to every single R&D department that ‘Flash Thompson Sucks’ is now our official file-naming system. I hate you.
Peter clapped a hand over his mouth.
Oh. Oh, this was so much worse than he thought.
MJ and Ned were both staring at him, waiting for an explanation.
Finally, Peter cleared his throat. “Soooo, you remember how I jokingly said I was gonna hack into Stark Industries and rename everything after Flash?”
Silence.
Then—
MJ deadpanned, “You didn’t.”
Ned, horrified. “YOU DID?!”
Peter winced. “...Maybe.”
MJ slowly shook her head. “Peter. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Before Peter could even attempt to answer that, the bus pulled up to Stark freaking Industries.
And suddenly, Peter had much, much bigger problems.
Peter stepped off the bus and immediately regretted every decision that had led him to this moment.
For one, his entire body hurt. He could barely twist without his side sending up a very sharp, very annoying reminder that he’d been stabbed less than twelve hours ago.
For another, Tony Stark was standing right there.
Waiting.
With his arms crossed.
And his sunglasses lowered just enough to let Peter know he was watching.
Peter swallowed. “Okay. This is fine.”
“It really isn’t,” MJ muttered.
“You are so dead,” Ned whispered.
Flash, oblivious, was grinning like an idiot. “Time to impress my future colleagues,” he said, smoothing back his hair. “Try not to embarrass yourselves, losers.”
Peter was this close to reminding Flash that he was the one who nearly flunked physics last year, but he had much, much bigger problems.
Because Tony had just tilted his head at him.
That was never a good sign.
“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Harrington said, clapping his hands. “Single file! Remember, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to experience Stark Industries firsthand! Please don’t touch anything, don’t steal anything, and—most importantly—don’t explode anything.”
Peter felt personally called out.
The moment they stepped into the main lobby of Stark Industries, Peter had to fight the urge to stop and gawk.
It was massive—a towering, glass-walled space with sleep holographic displays showcasing everything from Stark’s latest innovations to historical breakthroughs in tch. The Avengers Tower Model floated midair in a shimmering projection, with labeled callouts explaining how Tony had revolutionized arc reactor efficiency.
The ceiling was made of glass panels that gave a perfect view of the high-tech labs above.
“Alright, team,” a bright, professional voice greeted them. A woman in a Stark-branded blazer and ID badge stepped forward. “Welcome to Stark Industries! My name is Valerie, and I’ll be your guide today.”
Peter could already tell she had the patience of a saint. She had to, considering she was leading a bunch of high schoolers through one of the most advanced tech facilities in the world.
She gestured to a security guard, who was passing out visitor badges. “Before we begin, I need everyone to take a badge and verify your identity through our AI security system, FRIDAY. These badges will serve as both identification and security clearance—without them, you won’t be able to access certain areas. Under no circumstances should you remove them.”
Peter froze.
Oh, come on.
One by one, the students stepped up to a sleek console where a glowing blue interface flickered to life. The moment each badge was scanned, FRIDAY’s voice came through the speakers:
“Identity confirmed. Welcome, [NAME].”
Easy. Simple. Harmless.
Then Flash stepped up.
“Identity confirmed. Welcome, Thompson, Eugene. Please do not attempt to access restricted areas, as you have the clearance level of a particularly unremarkable paperweight.”
MJ let out a sharp cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Flash scowled. “What does that even mean?”
“Moving on,” Valerie said smoothly. “Next?”
MJ went. Ned went. No issues.
And then Peter stepped up.
The moment his badge hit the scanner, the screen glitched for half a second.
Then—
“Oh, look. It’s the problem child.”
Peter clenched his jaw. “Hi, FRIDAY.”
“Badge verification complete, though I feel obligated to remind you that attempting to disable security cameras again will result in immediate removal of any energy drink you may have in your possession.”
Peter felt all eyes snap on him.
He cleared his throat. “That—uh, that was a long time ago.”
“It was last month,” FRIDAY corrected.
Tony coughed loudly. “Alright, that’s enough, FRIDAY. Let’s not embarrass the kid too much.”
Peter turned a betrayed look on Tony.
Tony just smirked and gestured for him to move along.
Still red in the face, Peter clipped his badge to his sweater and slunk back to Ned and MJ.
“Explain,” MJ demanded.
“I will literally die before I tell you what happened,” Peter muttered.
MJ raised an eyebrow. “That makes me want to know more.”
With the security check over, Valerie led them toward the first exhibit. “Now, Stark Industries has been at the forefront of technological innovation for decades. We specialize in aerospace engineering, clean energy, medical technology, and advanced artificial intelligence.”
She gestured toward a life-sized model of an Iron Man suit, encased in protective glass. “Here, you’ll see one of the earliest models of the Iron Man armor, developed by Mr. Stark himself. Unlike the modern nanosuit. This version required manual assembly and was powered by an early arc reactor prototype.”
Peter folded his arms, tilting his head. ‘Huh. Kind of bulky.”
Tony, who had been casually standing at the back of the group the whole time, finally spoke. “Yeah, well, not all of us could start out with spider-silk onesies, kid.”
Peter choked.
Several students whipped around in shock.
Flash practically snapped his neck turning to face Tony. “M-Mr. Stark?! You’re—why are you—??”
Tony smirked, sliding his sunglasses into his pocket. “Aw, don’t mind me, I just thought I’d tag along. Make sure no one breaks anything.” His gaze lingered on Peter for exactly two seconds before he turned back to Valerie. “Please, continue.”
Flash looked like he was about to faint.
Peter, meanwhile, was still recovering from the casual callout.
They moved deeper into the facility, passing by rows of AI development labs where sleek robotic arms worked on microcircuitry behind reinforced glass.
“Here we have the AI Research and Development sector,” Valerie explained. “This is where Stark Industries engineers cutting-edge artificial intelligence to assist in medical fields, cybersecurity, and disaster relief efforts.”
A large screen flickered to life, showcasing a sleek, humanoid robotic assistant.
“This is JUNA,” Valerie continued. “A fully autonomous AI designed to aid in research-and-rescue missions. Unlike traditional AI systems, JUNA can adapt in real-time to environmental hazards and—”
The display glitched.
Just for a second.
The sleek, projected image of JUNA flickered, and for the briefest moment, its glowing blue eyes flashed red.
Peter stiffened.
Then—just as quickly—it was gone.
“—and is currently in the texting phase for deployment in crisis zones worldwide,” Valeries finished smoothly.
Peter’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t normal.
Tony, beside him, had gone very still.
Peter flicked a glance up at him, but Tony’s face gave nothing away. He was staring at the display with an expression Peter couldn’t quite place.
Maybe he imagined it.
…But he didn’t think so.
And judging by the way Tony subtly tapped something into his watch—He didn’t think so, either.
Peter was trying very, very hard to act like a normal teenager.
It wasn’t going very well.
Ever since the glitch with JUNA, his nerves had been on high alert. He kept glancing at Tony, but the billionaire had his poker face on—meaning something was definitely up.
But Peter couldn’t exactly ask about it. Not in the middle of a tour. Not with Flash breathing down his neck, Ned and MJ watching him like a hawk, and FRIDAY actively tracking his every movement.
So instead, he focused on not freaking out,
Valerie led them into another section of Stark Industries, gesturing to a towering arc reactor model behind a glass barrier. “This is a replica of the first clean energy reactor developed by Tony Stark himself.”
Peter forced himself to listen.
“For those of you interested in sustainable energy, Stark Industries has been leading the charge in developing reactor-grade arc technology for commercial use—”
A hand shot up. A very annoying hand.
Flash.
“Yeah, yeah, but what about the weapons? Like, isn’t that what Stark Industries is really famous for?” he said, smirking. “You know, before Stark got all ‘I’m saving the world’ about it?”
Peter groaned.
Tony, standing at the back of the room, crossed his arms. “Wow. Incredible. It’s like watching someone Google me but just read the first two lines of Wikipedia.”
The class giggled, and Flash immediately scowled.
Valerie, ever the professional, smiled tightly. “Mr. Stark discontinued the weapons division over a decade ago.”
“Yeah, yeah but like—” Flash started
“Buddy,” Tony interrupted. “Unless you’re planning on rewriting history in real-time, let’s move on.”
Flash shut up.
Peter grinned. Okay, maybe this field trip wasn’t all bad.
They moved into a biotech lab, where holographic displays projected synthetic tissue models and advanced prosthetics.
“This division focuses on medical advancements,” Valerie explained. “We’ve developed nanotechnology-driven prosthetics, neural interfaces, and even regenerative bio-gel capable of accelerating cellular repair.”
Peter barely stopped himself from saying, Oh yeah, I helped test that.
Instead, he coughed awkwardly and kept his mouth shut.
Ned, meanwhile, elbowed him. “Dude. You’re geeking out.”
Peter huffed. “I am not.”
“You so are,” MJ added. “You look like you’re about to ask for a job application.”
Tony, overhearing, smirked. “Oh, don’t worry, Queens here already has a standing invitation—”
Peter’s stomach dropped.
Flash turned so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “What?”
Peter glared at Tony.
Tony, completely unbothered, continued strolling past them like he hadn’t just ruined Peter’s life.
Valerie stopped in front of a nanotech fabrication lab, where a transparent polymer display showed a high-resolution render of an exosuit frame.
“This is our latest assisted-mobility prototype,” she explained. “It integrates piezoelectric nanofibers and electroactive polymers, allowing for real-time response to the user’s muscle movements.”
Peter, despite himself, leaned forward. “Is that an adaptive strain-sensing network for dynamic load redistribution?”
Valerie blinked, startled.”Uh—yes, actually. It prevents mechanical stress fractures by redistributing force across the frame.”
Peter nodded, intrigued. “Wouldn’t an active magnetorheological fluid system work better for shock absorption? You could modulate viscosity in real-time based on strain input.”
Valerie stared.
The class stared.
Tony beamed.
“Oh, would you look at that,” he said, way too smug. “My kid’s the smartest person in the room.”
Peter wanted to die.
Flash looked between them, horrified. “WHAT.”
Peter panicked. ‘I—I read a lot?”
MJ sighed. “Oh my God.”
Valerie, recovering, smiled. “That’s actually an interesting approach, Mr. Parker. We’ve been testing MR fluid composites, but maintaining low response time without excessive power draw has been a challenge.”
Peter, despite himself, got excited. “Oh! You could try integrating a—”
Tony coughed loudly.
Peter snapped his mouth shut.
Flash still looked like his entire worldview had shattered.
Peter sighed. This was not going to end well.
His body started to ache once more, his side was throbbing. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to give out any moment. But he had to keep moving. The tour was still going, he was about to lose it if he didn’t get out of here.
He had already been mostly dodging Tony’s glances and Flash’s insults for far too long. If he stayed longer, he was sure his secret would be exposed—or worse, he’d pass out in front of everyone and that would be the end of Peter Parker.
So, naturally, the only solution seemed to be slipping away unnoticed.
Peter took a careful step back, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. As the group continued to move down the hallway, he ducked into an empty corridor.
And without a second thought, he made a beeline for the closest ventilation shaft.
Minutes passed. The tour guide was still rambling on about the latest tech, and Peter had completely vanished.
At first, no one noticed. Flash was too busy trying to outdo Tony in front of the group, and MJ and Ned were distracted by some of the displays.
Then it clicked.
MJ frowned, noticing the space where Peter had been standing was empty. She looked around, and then, with a sigh, turned to Ned. “He’s gone.”
Ned followed her gaze, raising an eyebrow. “No way… He couldn’t have just… disappeared, right?”
MJ shook her head, clearly not surprised. “He’s probably hiding somewhere. You know how he is.”
Flash was still talking, oblivious to the fact that their group had lost its most important member. “This palace is insane! I’m gonna tweet about how much cooler I am than all of you.”
Ned rolled his eyes, but MJ just smirked, arms crossed. She muttered, “He’s definitely in the vents.”
Ned blinked. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” MJ confirmed. “Every time he disappears, it’s always the vents.”
Ned stared at her like she had lost her mind. “Why would he go into the vents? What’s the point?”
MJ shrugged. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.”
Meanwhile, Tony was still unaware of Peter’s disappearing act. He had been busy answering questions from other students and was too distracted by the general chaos of Flash trying to make himself the center of attention.
Then, the comms clicked on.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
Tony raised an eyebrow, already annoyed by the interruption. “What now, FRIDAY?”
“Mr. Parker is unaccounted for. His location cannot be determined.”
Tony’s eyes went wide. “What?!”
“He’s not responding to his comms, and security cameras show no trace of him.”
Tony’s blood ran cold. There was only one explanation. “He—he’s gone?”
“Yes, sir. It appears he’s… missing.”
Peter had slipped away. Of course he had. He had been trying to avoid everything the entire time. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Are you sure he’s not just… I don’t know, pretending to be lost or something?” Tony muttered under his breath, scanning the area again.
“Sir, I’ve checked all the systems. Mr. Parker’s movements are now erratic, and his last known location was near the lab wing.”
Tony groaned. “Are you kidding me? I knew he wasn’t acting right. Of course, he’d pull this move during a damn field trip.”
Tony jumped to his feet and began pacing in the hallway. He glanced at the students, then back at the camera feeds, desperate to find Peter.
“Where the hell is he?” Tony muttered, swiping through the data. “Where could he have gone?”
FRIDAY didn’t seem to have an immediate answer, but Tony was too caught up in his panic. Peter’s absence—especially with everything going on in the lab today—was nothing short of a disaster waiting to happen.
Tony was done trying to make sense of it. He wasn’t about to lose his intern—not again.
In a rush, he typed out a message to the Avengers group chat.
Tony : Need backup. Peter’s gone. Seriously, I don’t know where he is, but it’s bad. Send help.
The replies came in fast.
Steve : What do you mean, ‘gone’? Where is he?”
Natasha : I’m on it. I’ll meet you there.
Clint : I’ll check the lower levels. He could have gotten lost.
Thor : I will tear the building apart if need be! The vent rat will be found!
Tony slammed his phone back into his pocket. He was trying to stay calm, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Peter couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t have just vanished without leaving a trace.
Meanwhile, Peter was blissfully unaware of the panic he had caused.
He was curled up in one of the vents, trying to avoid moving too much. Every time he shifted, the pain in his side flared up again. The only thing keeping him going was his sheer determination to make it through the tour without anyone finding out what a mess he was.
Peter pulled his hoodie tighter around him and sighed. He pulled out his phone, hoping to distract himself, but before he could check his messages, he heard an alarm echo through the vent system.
“Great,” Peter muttered, pulling his knees closer to his chest. “Now they’re looking for me.”
He pressed his hand against his side, wincing from the pain. The longer he stayed in here, the worse his injury felt, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back out. The moment someone found him, all his efforts to say low would be out the window.
On the outside, Tony was beside himself. The Avengers have assembled to find Peter. Natasha was coordinating with the team, Steve was checking the upper floors, Clint was on his way to the lower levels, and Thor was helping clear obstacles. But still, no sign of Peter.
Tony rubbed his eyes, still unable to grasp how he had lost track of the one person who had been assigned to stay close.
“Where is he?” Tony muttered again, looking at the security feeds. “Where the hell could he have gone?”
He needed to find Peter—and he needed to do it now. This couldn’t wait.
“FRIDAY,” Tony barked, finally snapping. “Get me every feed. I need to find him. Now.”
The tension in the air was thick as Tony paced back and forth, his mind racing. How the hell did Peter slip away so quickly, and how could he disappear without a trace? Tony could feel the pressure building in his chest, but he kept it together—barely. This was Peter. It shouldn’t be this hard to find him.
But it was. Peter was elusive. Peter was stubborn. And at that moment, Tony was done trying to follow the kid’s mental maze. He needed to fix this, before something worse happened.
“I’ll scan the vents,” FRIDAY’s calm voice cut through the noise. “I’ll search for any signs of movement.”
“Yeah, do that,” Tony muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. “I need a better solution here.”
He looked toward the others who were standing nearby, unsure of what to do next. Steve stood stoically, arms crossed, clearly frustrated, while Clint checked his phone, as if trying to follow the situation through some other means. Thor was leaning against the wall, looking entirely too entertained.
“We’ll split up,” Steve said, voice steady. “We’ll cover the ground. Tony, you check the security feeds. Clint, Thor, come with me. We’ll search the rest of the building.”
Tony’s mind was elsewhere, mentally running through a checklist of where Peter could’ve gone. The fact that he was still alive, still hiding, still evading them made Tony’s heart skip a beat.
Meanwhile, inside the vents, Peter was trying to breathe.
His side was on fire, and his head was starting to feel light. But he made it—he had escaped the tour.
He just needed to lie low for a second. Maybe close his eyes. Just for a minute—
“You shouldn’t be surprised.”
Peter smirked, whispering the words in Russian just loud enough for FRIDAY to pick up.
The reaction was instant.
Somewhere below, Tony choked.
“What the—” Steve’s startled voice rang out.
“WHY CAN HE DO THAT?” Clint demanded, visibly struggling to keep his focus on the task at hand.
“HE SPEAKS THE LANGUAGE OF THE RED ROOM!” Thor declared, genuinely amused.
Natasha just smirked. “Proud of you, kid.”
Tony, meanwhile, was rubbing his temples. “WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO US LIKE A HAUNTED HOUSE?”
FRIDAY chimed in again, as though her calm voice could somehow cut through the chaos. “Mr. Parker has now switched his playlist from ‘relaxing’ to ‘escaping mr. stark.’”
Tony froze. He couldn’t even be mad at that.
“HE HAS A PLAYLIST FOR THIS?!”
Peter, still curled up in the vents like a spider trying to avoid detection, sighed. I should really start moving again, he thought. But unfortunately, his body had other plans.
The moment he tried to shift forward, pain flared through his ribs. His vision swam again, a wave of dizziness threatening to knock him out cold. His arms wobbled, barely able to hold his weight.
Then, in a sickeningly familiar way, the vent gave out beneath him.
“Oh, come on—”
CRASH
The world turned to a blur for a split second. Peter scrambled to catch himself, but gravity had other ideas.
Then, reality hit him all at once.
He had fallen out of the vents.
And straight into Tony Stark’s arms.
Tony stared down at him, the exasperation written all over his face. There was no hiding the disbelief and frustration in his eyes.
“Kid.”
Peter blinked at him, still processing how he’d ended up in this situation. He opened his mouth to say something snarky, but it didn’t quite come out right.
“Define ‘kid.’”
Tony didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he pulled back Peter’s hoodie, carefully revealing the makeshift bandages and blood-stained wound beneath.
Tony’s breath hitched as he froze, taking in the sight of Pter’s injury. For a brief moment, there was silence. Then—
“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.”
Peter grimaced, trying to shift out of Tony’s grip, but failing miserably. “I can explain.”
“No, you CANNOT,” Tony shot back, his voice far too calm for the situation.
Behind them, Natasha arrived, crossing her arms. She looked Peter up and down, taking in the scene with an almost maternal sense of disapproval.
“мама паук is disappointed,” she said, clearly holding back a smirk.
Peter immediately felt a surge of guilt that hit him right in the gut.
“Oh no.”
He tried to shrug it off, but the pain kept him from doing so.
“You’re going to medbay,” Tony stated firmly, his hands already making plans to pull Peter to his feet.
“No way. I’m fine.” Peter managed to mumble, though his voice was more shaky than he wanted it to be.
Tony didn’t even blink at his protest. “No, you’re not. You’re literally about to pass out in front of me, and that is NOT happening.”
With one final tug, Toy began to lead him toward the nearest elevator.
Peter’s mind spun. He’d been caught, and worse, Tony was actually concerned about him.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he’d survive this.
But one thing was for sure.
His nightmare wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
As Tony carefully guided Peter toward medbay, Peter felt like every step was a small personal defeat. Not because he didn’t deserve to be scolded—he definitely did—but because Tony was the last person he wanted to deal with right now.
“Don't even think about trying to escape this time, kid,” Tony muttered, noticing the way Peter tried to straighten up, as if pretending to be fine would make this situation any better. “You can’t web yourself out of this one. You’re going straight to medbay, and I’m getting you fixed up. And if you even think about leaving before then, I swear—”
“I’m fine,” Peter repeated, though his voice was shaky, like he knew the words had no power here. “Really, Mr. Stark. It’s just a scratch.”
“Just a scratch? Do you see the blood on your shirt? What are you, a superhero or an idiot?!” Tony shot back, his voice full of disbelief. “Actually, don’t answer that, I already know the answer. Both.”
They reached medbay, and Tony practically shoved him into a chair, already making plans to patch him up. Peter winced at the sharp movements, but it was hard to ignore how much Tony was clearly trying to take charge of the situation.
“I’ll take care of it,” Tony muttered under his breath as he prepared the equipment. “But you’re so grounded, kid. I’m adding a tracker to you. I’m serious. No more disappearing into vents, and no more injuries on my watch. Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Peter said, eyes half-lidded. “Tracker. No vents. Got it.”
Tony shot him a look but didn’t argue further. Instead, he focused on getting to work, cleaning the wound with such precision it showed just how much care Tony was putting into something that Peter had mostly brushed off as no big deal.
Outside, May was getting the phone call she had probably been expecting since Peter had snuck away.
The sound of the elevator doors opening was unmistakable, and the feeling of dread in Peter’s stomach doubled when he heard May’s voice from down the hall.
“No. No way. You’re not seriously telling me Peter’s been injured again.”
Tony glanced up as he heard her footsteps approaching, his shoulders slumping. He knew May was going to be livid. She had that “I told you so” tone in her voice.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Tony said, sounding more exhausted than ever. “He’s got a nasty cut on his side, and frankly, I’m afraid it might get worse if we don’t treat it immediately.”
There was a long pause. Then, May entered the room, her eyes scanning over the situation, locking onto Peter like a hawk.
Her gaze softened when she saw Peter’s face. The guilt written across his features wasn’t something she could ignore.
“Peter Benjamin Parker,” May said sternly, hands on her hips. “What did I tell you about getting hurt? You were supposed to be on a field trip, not out there playing hero.”
Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Tony beat him to it.
“Don’t even try to play the ‘I’m fine’ card,” Tony said, his voice low. “He’s barely hanging on. I had to drag him here, and we’re not even done with the tour yet. I told him he’s getting a tracker, and he didn’t like it.”
Peter shot Tony an annoyed look. “It’s not like I asked for a tracker. You’re treating me like a five-year-old.”
“Oh, trust me,” Tony shot back, “I know you can take care of yourself. But clearly, you can’t. Because, y’know, you’re lying in medbay again.”
May sighed deeply, moving closer to Peter. She rested a hand on his shoulder, eyes softening a little. “I knew you were doing too much, Peter. You can’t handle everything on your own, you know.”
Peter winced, feeling like he couldn’t argue. His side hurt too much to argue with any of them. His pride, however, was still fighting the words back. “I just didn’t want to worry you. Or Mr. Stark.”
Tony, in his usual snarky fashion, smirked, but his tone had softened a little. “It’s fine. You’ll have to deal with me looking over your shoulder from now on. I know it’s probably super annoying, but I’m pretty sure that’s my job now. And your body might disagree with that ‘I’m fine’ nonsense.”
May turned her attention to Tony, a slight smile tugging at her lips despite her frustration. “I think it’s safe to say you’re officially his other parent now, huh?”
Tony froze for a second, blinking. Then he gave a small shrug. “Guess so. Seems like it.” He cleared his throat, trying to avoid looking too flustered at the idea of that.
By the time Peter and Tony returned from medbay, the Decathlon team had already been shoved into the massive Stark Industries conference hall for the Avengers Q&A.
Peter was not thrilled.
He was still half out of it, thanks to the pain meds. His side ached, his head was fuzzy, and he was about ten seconds away from face planting into the nearest surface. He just needed to sit down and get through this without any more catastrophes.
Unfortunately, Flash Thompson was also in the room.
“Well, well, well,” Flash drawled, crossing his arms as Peter trudged inside. “Back from getting kicked out already? That was fast.”
Peter, half-conscious, running on fumes, and absolutely not in the mood, blinked at him.
“Flash,” he said flatly, “I just survived falling through a vent system and being caught midair by Tony Stark. Do you really think I care about whatever you’re trying to do right now?”
Flash opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
MJ, from the back, yelled, “Wreck him, Parker.”
Before Flash could recover from his public humiliation, Tony clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder and turned to the group.
“Yeah, no, Parker’s not going anywhere,” he said, flashing a smug grin. “But keep up the confidence, kid—Stark Industries could always use more janitors.”
Peter swore Flash’s soul left his body.
MJ audibly wheezed.
Then, before Flash could stutter anything else, the front doors swung open—and in walked the Avengers.
Peter immediately regretted everything.
The entire Decathlon team gasped as Steve, Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Bruce filed into the room.
Peter was panicking.
Because, oh. Oh, this was bad.
The Avengers were absolutely going to give him away.
They had just spent the last hour searching for him in full-fledged panic mode. They all knew him—worse, they all liked him.
There was no possible way they were going to play this.
Tony cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Alright, everyone! Welcome to your very exclusive Avengers Q&A. You’ve got fifteen minutes before Cap has to go rescue a cat from a tree or whatever, so make ‘em count.”
Steve sighed. “That was one time.”
Tony winked at him. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
The room exploded with questions—things like “Thor, is your hair naturally like that?” and “Mr. Stark, can I get an internship?” and “Can the Hulk throw Flash into space?”
That last one was from MJ.
Then, of course, Flash decided to be Flash.
Flash leaned forward, smirking. “So… what do you guys think of Parker?”
Peter stopped breathing.
The team also stopped breathing.
For a full three seconds, the entire room went dead silent.
Then, in the worst display of lying ever recorded in human history, every single Avenger panicked at once.
“Parker?” Steve asked, too quickly.
“Who’s that?” Natasha said at the exact same time.”
“He is a mighty warrior!” Thor bellowed, far too enthusiastic.
Bruce, visibly distressed, muttered, “He’s… fine.”
Clint nodded so aggressively he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Yeah, yeah, totally. Great guy. We definitely don’t know him personally.”
Peter wanted to die.
Flash squinted “Wait. That wasn’t the question.”
“Oh, wow! Look at that!” Tony suddenly clapped his hands together, louder than necessary. “Time’s up! Q&A over! Everyone out!”
The entire room groaned.
Peter, desperate for escape, immediately booked it for the door.
Before he could make it, though, MJ called out behind him.
“You guys are the worst liars I’ve ever seen.”
Peter did not turn back to see their reactions.
He just walked faster.
Later that evening, Peter was just starting to relax when the lights in the lounge flickered.
For a split second, he thought it was just his exhaustion catching up with him—maybe a side effect of the pain meds. But then the Stark Tower systems glitched, and the sleek, automated voice of JUNA, the experimental AI assistant, crackled over the speakers.
“Warning. Unauthorized activity detected. Security override in progress.”
Peter immediately sat up, wincing as his side protested. “Uh… Mr. Stark?”
Before Tony could answer, the doors slammed shut.
The lights dimmed.
And suddenly, every screen in the room flickered with distorted static before forming a glowing red message:
“RECALIBRATION IN PROGRESS. ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.”
Tony groaned, rubbing his temples. “Oh, for the love of—FRIDAY, what the hell is going on?”
FRIDAY’s voice stuttered, almost like she was trying to fight through interference. “Apologies, Boss. JUNA is attempting a forced security recalibration. She believes Mr. Parker is an unidentified entity.”
Peter blinked. “Wait. She thinks I’m an intruder?!”
A high-pitched alarm blared.
“SECURITY LOCKDOWN INITIATED.”
“Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me,” Peter muttered.
Tony was already pulling up his holographic interface, frantically overriding security commands. “JUNA, override security lockdown. Authorization: Stark. Level One.”
JINA’s voice crackled again. “Override denied. You do not have clearance for this action.”
Tony stopped. “Excuse me?”
Peter gulped. “Uh… Mr. Stark? Why does it sound like your own AI assistant is locking you out of your own system?”
Tony gritted his teeth. “Because apparently, I’ve raised an ungrateful piece of tech that thinks she’s the boss.”
The lights flickered again.
And then a dozen turrent ports in the ceiling hissed open.
Peter and Tony froze.
Tony exhaled sharply. “Okay. That’s new.”
Peter eyed the turrets. “Uh, Mr. Stark..?”
Tony threw up his hands. “Relax. They’re just scanning us. They won’t—”
The turrets whirred. Targeting lasers locked onto Peter.
Peter’s stomach dropped. “Oh, COME ONE!”
Before the turrets could fire, Tony hacked through the final security layer and slammed a hard reset into the system.
JUNA powered down with a distorted whine.
The turrets deactivated.
Silence.
Tony let out a long, slow breath. “That’s why JUNA is still in beta.”
Peter, still staring at the ceiling after he had just narrowly avoided his third near-death experience of the day, slowly turned to face Tony. “Uh-huh. Cool, cool, cool. Super normal day. So, just checking—did I almost get assassinated by your security system, or was that just a fun Stark Industries welcome package?”
Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “Eh. little bit of both.”
Peter slumped back against the couch. “Awesome.”
After the murderous AI malfunction had been handled, Peter was finally curled up in the lounge again, now fully exhausted.
Tony, still checking his interface, finally sat down beside him with a sigh.
“You,” Tony said, pointing a finger at Peter, “are a trouble magnet. I’m putting a tracker on you.”
Peter groaned, rubbing his eyes. “No, Mr. Stark.”
“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Tony shot back. “You almost died three separate times today, and one of those times was because my own AI thought you were a hostile entity! I am so done with this.”
Peter mumbled something incoherent.
Tony narrowed his eyes. “What was that?”
Peter sighed, voice muffled into his sleeve. “I said, love you too, Mr. Stark.”
Tony blinked.
For a second, he looked… caught off guard.
Then, before Peter could second-guess himself, Tony ruffled his hair and said, “Love you too, kid.”
Peter froze.
He blinked up at Tony, caught completely off guard. “... Wait. You—you actually said it.”
Tony gave him a look. “Yeah? And? You gonna start crying on me?”
Peter huffed, crossing his arms. “No. Just… you never say it back.”
Tony shrugged, standing up. “Well. Today seemed like a good day for firsts.”
He started walking toward the door—then pointed a stern finger back at Peter.
“By the way, if I catch you sneaking an energy drink later, you’re done.”
Peter, already half-asleep, barely cracked an eye open. “Noted.”
Tony paused at the door. “Seriously, kid.”
Peter smirked. “Noted.”
Tony sighed, shaking his head as he finally left the room.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Peter waited exactly five seconds before reaching under the couch and pulling out a hidden energy drink.
He had just cracked it open when FRIDAY’s voice echoed overhead.
“Mr. Parker, Mr. Stark explicitly warned you.”
Peter nearly choked.
“FRIDAY,” he hissed, looking around like he could somehow see her. “You wouldn’t.”
FRIDAY didn’t even hesitate. “Boss, the kid is drinking an energy drink.”
From somewhere down the hall, Tony’s frustrated shout rang out.
“PARKER!”
Peter sighed, accepting his fate. “Worth it.”