Emily Colton had only been working as a night shift receptionist at the police precinct for about a year. Most of her shifts were fairly routine. She was not counting on this one to be any different. In fact, it had started decently quiet. However, about four hours into it, several officers brought in some teens from a party they had busted. Most were processed fairly quickly, and parents and guardians were called. One slim boy with curly brown hair, however, caused a flurry of activity when his fingerprints were revealed to be flagged. He was deposited in a chair in the front office while calls were made.
“Um, do you know what's happening?” the teen asked her hesitantly, confused as to why he had been left there while the officers processing him hurried out the room.
“I'm sure someone will explain,” Emily said kindly. Truthfully, she was confused. She had stepped into the break room for a second to grab a fresh cup of coffee and overheard something about the FBI, but she really had no clue as to the reason for the excitement.
Within half an hour, a pair of FBI agents came storming into the precinct, followed by a social worker from Child Protective Services.
“We have all the paperwork here authorizing the swab,” one of the officers was explaining. The social worker was looking over the papers nodding.
“This really is not standard procedure,” she was muttering.
“This is hardly a standard case,” one of the agents responded with an edge of sarcasm.
“Hello, Peter,” the woman said, sitting down beside the teenage boy.
“Um, hi?” Peter said, his brown eyes wide, taking in the two agents and woman surrounding him.
“I'm Mrs. Sanders with Child Protective Services. These agents here will be taking a sample of your DNA-”
“Do they have to?” the teen squeaked, seemingly alarmed.
“We have a court order,” one of the agents stated.
“Can I call my lawyer?” the kid protested. A snort came from one of the officers who had brought Peter to the precinct.
“You didn't want us to call your guardian and now you want to call your lawyer?” she scoffed, “Kid, do you even have a lawyer?”
“No,” Peter petulantly crossed his arms and scowled.
“Open up,” the agent ordered him.
“I'd rather not,” the teen muttered.
“Peter, it would be much better for all of us if you cooperate,” the agent was saying.
Emily tried not to be obvious about watching the proceedings, pretending to be busy on her computer, but she couldn't help but be intrigued by the drama. And it was happening in her office. Finally the teen relented and allowed himself to be swabbed. As the agent finished, the teen twisted in his seat looking towards the entrance. Officers were leading a middle aged woman with long brown hair and glasses back towards the interrogation rooms.
“Why is my aunt here?” Peter questioned, jumping to his feet and turning to watch as the woman was led down the hall.
“Just sit tight,” Mrs. Sanders told him, gently pushing him back to the seat, “We will be back to explain later.” The social worker followed the two agents out of the office muttering about the irregularity of it all.
Not long after, the teen was on his feet again, hovering at the door as a harried looking man came into view. He was typing on his phone but stopped short when he saw Peter.
“Kid, why are you here?” He demanded. The teen opened up his mouth to explain when the man held up his hand to stop him, lifting the phone to his ear and beginning to speak, “I don't know what happened…They just brought her here…OK, fine, I'll come get you.”
He turned to leave, but not without pointing to the teen, “Don't go anywhere.”
“I couldn't if I wanted to,” the teen muttered, slumping back into the seat.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” Emily asked, trying to be helpful to the child who was apparently living in her office at this point.
He brightened, sitting straight, “Donuts?”
Emily's brow wrinkled, “I don't think we have donuts. I think there are some snack cakes or a bag of pretzels in the break room.”
“No, thank you,” The kid said in an obvious effort to be polite, but then immediately scowled and slouched in the seat, muttering, “What type of police station doesn't have donuts?” She sighed. At least she had tried.
They sat in silence for a while, the teen fidgeting, occasionally twisting in his seat to see if anything else was happening, but otherwise silent. After about an hour of this, she took pity on the obviously bored kid and decided to try to get to know her new office mate. And he did seem destined to spend the entire night with her.
“Peter, right?” Emily asked. He nodded and she continued, “My name is Emily. So, how old are you?”
“Fifteen,” he answered, disinterested. He wasn't impolite, he just clearly did not want to be there.
“Have any hobbies? Besides hanging out in police precincts?” she asked, trying to engage him more.
“I, uh, like Lego. And science,” Peter said.
“Where do you go to school,” she questioned, curious
“Midtown,” he answered. Emily raised her brows in surprise.
“The science school?” she questioned. When the kid nodded, she continued, “Don't you have to be super smart to get in there?”
The kid flushed and nodded, “Yeah, I, uh, I guess so. I just really like science, though.”
She opened her mouth to ask him more, but was cut off by another round of activity from the hallway.
“So, we know the test is a match, but there are procedures that need to be followed,” Mrs. Sanders could be heard saying to the agents, “I need to call my supervisor. Don't question him without me, but go ahead and move him to a room. And go ahead and alert them, but remind them there are procedures. This needs to be done by the book.”
The woman stepped into an empty room. One agent hurried out of the building, while the other one stepped into the office.
“Ok, kid, go ahead and come with me,” he said.
Peter shot a helpless look at Emily before looking at the agent, “I'd rather stay here.”
“Peter,” the agent began.
“Please?” the teen pleaded. The agent let out a sigh of frustration, but nodded.
“Fine. Just, can you tell me what you remember about your parents?”
The teens brow furrowed in confusion, “They died when I was four. I barely remember them.”
The agent nodded again and left the room, leaving the teen alone with Emily. Peter looked like he didn't want to talk, so she was content to do her work while he sat quietly.
Within twenty minutes, the agent that had left entered the building again, this accompanied by…Tony Stark and Pepper Potts-Stark? Iron Man! Emily had to remind herself to breathe seeing the Avenger stalk purposefully down the hallway. The man glanced over to the office, pausing and eyes narrowing. He changed course and marched into the room. Peter shot to his feet, eyes widening.
“Peter Benjamin Parker!” He roared, “What are you doing here?”
“I can explain!” the teen said quickly. Iron Man knew Peter? Who in the world was this kid?
“Tony, you can deal with Peter afterwards,” Mrs. Potts-Stark said patiently from the doorway. She turned her gaze to the boy, saying sternly, “We'll discuss why you are here later, young man!”
Peter gulped and sat back down. The second agent came into the hallway from the interrogation rooms, followed by Mrs. Sanders.
“Mr. and Mrs. Stark, thank you for coming,” the second agent was saying, “We called brought processed some teens we picked up at a party earlier this-”
“Where is she? I have her lawyer!” the harried man from earlier. He was accompanied by another man who was wearing sunglasses and holding a cane.
“Happy, I thought you said you were busy tonight? We had to get Cap to babysit Morgan,” the billionaire said, raising his eyebrow, voice tinged with confusion.
“Boss!” the man cried, clearly out of breath, “I am. Very busy! May was brought in for questioning about a kidnapping. Kidnapping! I had to get Matt. Please tell me you're here for the kid!”
“No, although I'd love to know why the kid is here,” the Avenger seethed, glaring at the teen who was sinking further down in his seat.
“May was brought in about a kidnapping?” Mrs. Potts-Stark asked, clearly confused. She turned to the agents, “We were told this was about our missing son. What in the world is going on here, Agent Cole?”
“As I was saying,” the second agent, Agent Cole evidently, continued, “When the teens were processed, one set of prints was flagged as belonging to your son. We swabbed for DNA-”
At that moment, the social worker noticed the teen was still in the office. She furiously interrupted Agent Cole, “You were supposed to move him out of the office! And tell them in another room. This is most irregular!”
Meanwhile the teen’s eyes had widened at the mention of the fingerprints and DNA, although he also looked simultaneously relieved. Emily wasn't sure what that was about. The Starks looked between the agents, the social worker, and Peter.
“Who are you?” the CEO finally asked Mrs. Sanders.
“Karen Sanders, Child Protective Services,” she said nervously.
“OK,” Tony said slowly, “Why is the kid here?”
“As I said,” Agent Cole was clearly frustrated with the interruptions, “We ran the teen’s DNA, and it was match for-”
“I'm your son?” Peter yelped, moving closer to Mr. Stark so he could clearly see the other adults.
“Pete,” the man said gently and patiently, “We've been over this. You will always be my kid. You're just as much my kid as Morgan and James.”
“No, Dad,” Peter argued, shaking his head emphatically, “When they brought me here, they fingerprinted me. Then they took my DNA. I'm the teen they are talking about. I'm your son. I'm James.”
The couple stood frozen, staring at the boy. The harried man's eyes bugged, and he sputtered, “You? You? I should have known. You are just like him.”
“This is not proper procedure at all!” Mrs. Sanders objected, “There are steps that need to be taken before reunification happens! We need to find out exactly what the aunt's role in this is! Custody needs to be sorted!”
“We already have custody of him!” Tony growled, glaring at the woman.
“Exactly,” the lawyer said firmly, “Which also means you can clear my client. Why would she already willingly share custody of her nephew with the Stark family if she had any part in kidnapping him?”
“I'll go get the aunt and tell her the biological parents are here,” the agent who had been leading the couple into the building went to retrieve the woman.
“I'm confused,” Agent Cole said, brow wrinkled, “How exactly do you have custody of your son if he was still a missing person? It should have been reported if he had been found!”
“He's been my intern since he was thirteen. We didn't realize he was our missing son,” Mr. Stark snapped.
“We probably should have,” the harried man grumbled.
“So, Peter is really our son?” Mrs. Potts-Stark questioned softly. Agent Cole nodded, and the woman's expression softened. The boy grinned as she drew him into a hug, planting a kiss on his temple.
“Welcome home, sweetie,” she murmured. She released him so that her husband could pull the teen into an embrace.
The man released him as the other agent returned, followed by the teen's aunt. Peter hovered close to his father but also seemed relieved to see his aunt.
“Why are you here?” the aunt asked in confusion when she saw the couple. She turned to the agent who had retrieved her, “I thought you said my nephew's biological parents were here?”
“Your nephew was identified by fingerprints as James Anthony Stark,” the agent explained, “A Rapid DNA test confirmed it.”
“Oh. Well,” she said after a beat, “I guess this makes the custody arrangements easier. I was worried about how I was going to explain to Peter’s parents that they would need to share custody with Iron Man. Or, I guess it's James, now.”
Peter grimaced, “Can I still be Peter? I'm used to it.”
“Maybe don't tell Rhodey or Bucky or Cap, but I'm not as fond of the name James anymore, anyway,” the Avenger muttered.
There were murmurs of agreement before his wife added, “Quite frankly, one Anthony is enough trouble as it is. We were planning on changing it to Peter Benjamin Stark when the adoption was finalized, anyway. I'll just get our lawyers to go ahead and push that paperwork through.”
“Adoption?” Agent Cole questioned, absolutely befuddled.
“Well, clearly not now,” the CEO replied, exasperated. She addressed the lawyer, “Could you let everyone else know to get started on that, Matt?”
“Of course,” the man agreed. He then turned to the harried man, “Would you go ahead and drive me home, Mr. Hogan?”
Emily watched as the lawyer and the harried man, Mr. Hogan, left the building.
“This really explains so much,” the aunt said, “I always said he was just like you, Tony. Although, he must get the politeness from you, Pepper.”
“It really does make so much sense now, though,” Mrs. Stark-Potts murmured in agreement.
“I guess we should also discuss the adjusted custody agreement,” the aunt added.
“Definitely, shall we continue this conversation at the tower?” Mr. Stark agreed. He then turned to the other occupants in the room, “Is there anything further you need from us?”
The social worker shrugged, looking utterly confused, “I guess there is no reason to go through a reunification process if you already have joint custody? And were planning on adopting him?”
An equally bemused looking police officer who had been watching the entire event play out stepped forward to add, “We won't be bringing charges against the kid. We just needed a guardian to pick him up.”
Tony nodded, giving them his best press smile, “Wonderful, we will be leaving, then. Agent Coles, please contact my lawyers if you need any further information from us.”
“Of course. We are thrilled for you, Mr. and Mrs. Stark, and quite happy to see this case have such good closure.”
As the family moved towards the exit, Mr. Stark threw his arm around his son, declaring, “When we get home, we can also discuss how long you'll be grounded.”
“What? Dad!” Peter yelped, “Why am I getting grounded?”
“We had to pick you up at a police station, Roo,” his father said tersely.
“But I'm your long lost son! And you wouldn't even know that if I hadn't been brought here to be fingerprinted!” the teen whined, “This is a happy occasion.”
“And we are happy,” his mother said from beside him, “But you were picked up at a party when you told us you were at Ned’s.”
“Mom! That's so unfair!” The boy complained miserably, shoulders slumping forward.
“Police station,” the billionaire said pointedly. The other occupants of the area were left staring at each other in complete disbelief as the group exited the precinct.
“So, do your cases end like this often?” Emily cheerfully asked the bewildered officer, agents, and social worker. They shook their heads, positively confused over what had just happened.
Emily, meanwhile, was thrilled to recount her version of the events to her boyfriend when she arrived home after her shift. And when the news broke that missing James Stark (now Peter Stark) had been found and reunited with his family, Emily was more than happy to share with her friends the details on how it had happened. Peter seemed like a good kid, and he deserved a happily ever after. She did, however, wonder how long he ended up grounded. And while she didn't understand the connection, she did notice the absence of Spider-Man from Queens for the next two weeks.