Chapter 4
It was Thursday and Peter was at his limit.
Mr. Stark was a genius. He was a hero who had saved the world multiple times over and had the skills to prove it. He reinvented energy as the world knew it and had tested the limits of science and technology so many times it just became routine.
Mr. Stark was also a horrible roommate.
Peter was sure he wasn’t trying to be like that, but Mr. Stark also grew up in a mansion with servants, so he wouldn’t expect him to understand certain social conventions.
For example, Mr. Stark did not keep to normal sleeping hours. The first night must have been an anomaly because he was exhausted from the transformation or whatever, because every night since he’d been up past 2 AM.
Now, Peter was no stranger to late bedtimes. With his extracurriculars, homework, then patrol, he often crashed a little after midnight (later on the weekends). But when Peter got the chance to sleep, he used it. It wouldn’t serve anyone well for him to go out on patrol exhausted. Because of that, Peter was left annoyed at Mr. Stark’s disregard for a normal sleep schedule.
Every night when Peter got home from patrol, he found Mr. Stark tinkering with the Iron Man suit on the floor of his room. He didn’t have as much to work with as he did at the lab at home, but Peter could see he was making progress in re-fitting the suit with the limited tools available.
Then, after Peter had changed and crashed into bed, he could still hear the sounds of Mr. Stark working with the parts. Even when Peter gently reminded him that he should probably sleep for school in the morning, Mr. Stark still puttered around, putting tools away, getting ready for bed, grabbing a glass of water that he didn’t plan on drinking, and overall stalling. Then when the older man actually laid down in the bottom bunk, he twisted and turned for another half hour, Peter’s senses picking up every movement, before he slowly fell into a fitful sleep.
Now, Peter knew he should have been a bit more sympathetic; after all, this was a huge change and Mr. Stark was probably struggling to cope with it. However, when the sleep deficit made them both irritable in the morning, Peter found himself to be less than forgiving. In addition to dealing with his own exhaustion, he had to put up with Mr. Stark’s insomnia and hormone driven snappiness. Even Happy was picking up on the behavior, judging by the furtive glances he kept giving them.
Mr. Stark usually calmed down by school time, but then instead of being moody, he got curious and nosy. He asked about Flash (who thankfully hadn’t said anything too awful in front of Mr. Stark), teased Peter about any girl he gave even a glance, and generally seemed overtly interested in Peter’s life. Which if Peter from a week ago heard, would be over the moon. The idea that his super cool hero mentor figure was taking an interest in even the mundane parts of Peter’s life would’ve sounded amazing to past-Peter. Now, he couldn’t help but be terrified that Mr. Stark wouldn’t like what he found.
So, Peter carefully avoided the questions and tried to turn it back on Mr. Stark, trying to remain cheery and encouraging about everything. Because he knew if Mr. Stark realized that Peter was a social outcast and a loser, he’d be disappointed. Spider-Man could talk all he wants behind the mask, but the truth was that people found Peter Parker unlikeable.
He didn’t want Mr. Stark to start thinking the same thing.
Now Peter was making his way to his normal seat in Mr. Harrington’s class, right next to Ned and MJ.
Mr. Harrington taught Peter’s freshman year Biology class and his classroom was covered in various diagrams and models. Peter didn’t have him for an academic class this year, but he still enjoyed the time in Homeroom. Both MJ and Ned were in this Homeroom too, and the only other class they all had together was HPE/Drivers’ Ed with Mr. Wilson.
MJ still liked to keep her distance, but sometime over the past few months she’d joined Peter and Ned at their normal table rather than sitting alone. He thought it was a great improvement, even if she’s still sketching them in various unflattering portraits.
Their Homerooms were mixed grades too, so Mr. Stark was scheduled with them.
He had been sitting with them as well, pulling up a chair to what was made to be a desk of 3. Mr. Harrington hadn’t bothered trying to move him, figuring it wasn’t too important for just Homeroom.
All they really did in the 25 minutes they were in here was attendance, school news, important announcements and standardized testing prep. The other classes were 80 minutes of work, but Homeroom was pretty much just social time.
However, Mr. Stark hadn’t followed him in today. Rather he stayed in the car with Happy, citing the need to call Miss Potts for some sort of check-in. Peter was promptly shooed away.
To be honest, he was a little glad for the brief break. Mr. Stark hadn’t woken up until Peter was already out the door to go meet Happy, and he’d tapped his fingers against the car door through the whole ride here, grating on Peter’s senses. Normally it wasn’t that bad, but these last few days have worn him down and his senses were more sensitive than normal.
He had to go through three shirts alone while getting ready just to find one that didn’t scratch against his skin.
But overall Peter was just irritated, and he was glad for the time to calm himself down before he embarrassed himself by snapping at the other hero.
“Dude, you look like Anakin right before Obi-Wan cut him into pieces,” Ned said, in lieu of greeting.
“What? No, I don’t,” Peter denied. He didn’t really look that upset.
“No, you definitely look irritated,” MJ said. Peter gave them both flat looks.
“Well, I don’t think irritated was the emotion going through Anakin’s head in that scene-”
“Not the point.”
Peter huffed, leaning down to grab his notes from his book bag. He had a quiz in AP Calc AB in 5th period and wanted to look over it. Or, at least, ignore the current round of questioning.
“Is this whole cousin thing bothering you?” Ned asked, with a bit too much emphasis on ‘cousin’.
Just as Peter had agreed, he hadn’t told Ned who that really was, just that they were in trouble and staying with Peter for a while. Ned had bombarded him with questions, but Peter just promised to explain it properly when everything was over and Tony was safe again. Thankfully, Ned hadn’t considered the idea that Tony was Tony Stark, but he had asked why he wasn’t staying at Stark Tower.
Peter had given him the answer that Stark Industries was using to explain Mr. Stark’s absence; ‘classified Avengers business’.
However, as much as Ned seemed content with the reasoning, MJ was not sold on the whole cousin story thing.
“Yeah, Peter, your cousin moving in all a sudden with no warning seems like a stressful situation.” Oh, yeah, she definitely knew something.
Peter just shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, well, I’m adjusting. It’s fun. It’s fine. It’s going great.”
MJ raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh.”
Just as Peter was about to respond, a shadow fell over them. He looked up to find Flash Thompson looking down his nose at them.
The other boy was staring down at him with a scowl, and Peter was vividly reminded of Monday’s decathlon practice, during which he’d inadvertently corrected Flash three times. Peter hadn’t meant to antagonize him, but Flash has always taken perceived insults to his intelligence a bit personally.
It'd been like that since they were kids. Believe it or not, but they used to be friends. Way back in elementary school, before he’d met Ned or MJ. But as the years went by and academics became more important, issues started arising. Their friendship became less of a partnership and more of a competition.
Peter would be the first person to take the blame for feeding into Flash’s challenges, something he regretted now. Back then, before Ben and everything that had happened, Peter was much more concerned with being better than being kind. He wasn’t picking fights or anything, but it wasn’t often he took the high road.
Even now, there’s a part of him that wanted to be better. Run after the Vulture, to show that he’s a better hero. Push the limits of the rules set for his patrols, to prove he could handle himself. There’s this competitive part of Peter that not only wanted to be a better hero, but acknowledged as such. He’s not so vain to go chasing that kind of attention… but every compliment and note about his improvement that he got from Mr. Stark and some of the other heroes he’s met proves to himself that he’s doing something right.
As much as he got nagged to stay on top of his school work, Peter didn’t care as much about winning here, just about being the best version of Spider-Man he could be.
But Flash did.
And it’s like the other boy could see Peter had checked out emotionally from their little tête-à-tête.
Peter still had the higher grades, the Decathlon seat, and Science Fair prizes. But school was no longer his main concern. And he thought that was what infuriated Flash. Not just to lose, but to lose to someone who didn’t even care about winning.
He didn’t really know what to do about the whole Flash situation. It’s not like he’s going to purposely start failing tests. Besides, it’s not really his problem. As much as he would have liked to fix whatever issues the other boy had, there’s not much Peter could do except sign him up for therapy or whatever. And it’s not like Flash would listen if he’s the one suggesting it.
Which left them where they were today.
They had their second practice of the week scheduled for later this afternoon. After the disaster on Monday, Peter was sure Flash had something to say about it.
“Your spot is gonna be mine, Parker,” he hissed, keeping his voice down to not draw Mr. Harrington’s attention.
“Good morning to you too, Flash.”
Flash narrowed his eyes.
“You think you’re so smart, but you’re not. I’m not going to give up until I win,” he said. And Peter could hear the conviction behind the words. This was truly something Flash wanted, recognition that he was better than Peter.
“You do realize that it isn’t your place to decide who wins or loses, right, Eugene?” MJ said, tilting her head to the side as she regarded Flash cooly.
Flash bristled at being called ‘Eugene’, but MJ continued before he could say anything.
“Even if I think this whole competition is moronic and an example of the male ego at work, I’m team captain. I get to choose who starts and who is an alternate,” she said. “And so far, Peter has shown he understands the material better.”
“I know it just as well,” Flash whined, his face flushed. “I’m not stupid.”
MJ shrugged. “Never said you were. All I’m saying is that if you maybe spent the same amount of time studying as you do harassing Peter, you might be on the team already.”
“What’s going on here?” Peter looked to the side to see that Mr. Stark had approached their table. He must have come in without them noticing.
Peter would normally be embarrassed about being caught like that, arguing over something as stupid as a spot on the Decathlon team. But it felt like his blood was on fire and all he could do was mutter “Nothing. Don’t worry about it”.
It took every bit of control to stop himself from snapping the pencil in his hand.
Flash took his direction, likely not wanting to start a fight with the new kid, and shuffled off to his seat with a scoff.
Mr. Stark watched Flash leave, clearly not believing Peter. “Oh, really? Because it looked to me like that kid was harassing you.”
“Probably because he was,” said MJ. She was still looking at Flash, watching as the boy typed furiously on his phone in his seat at the back of the class.
Peter pursed his lips. “He wasn’t. Nothing was going on, we were just talking about Decathlon practice later today.”
He ignored all three disbelieving faces aimed in his direction.
Mr. Stark shifted, crossing his arms. “Sometimes I wonder if you think I’m stupid, with the amount of lying you do.”
Peter’s heart skipped a beat as his head snapped up to look up at the older man.
“What?”
The tension in the room shifted just slightly, Ned and MJ looking uncomfortable as they were forced to bear witness to the exchange.
Peter wouldn’t have said he lied a lot.
He had to lie to his friends and peers about Spider-Man because it might put them in danger. And sure, he had lied to May about it too for a while, but that had also been for her safety and general stress level. Then, there was all the lying to Mr. Stark before he took the suit away. And, well, there was also all the little white lies about the true content and danger of Peter’s patrols when he knew May and Mr. Stark would be upset if he took on anyone relatively serious. And- okay, sure, Peter lied a lot.
But it was all for a good reason. Just like this.
He just never expected to be called out on it. Peter wasn’t an Oscar worthy actor, but he wasn’t incompetent either. He knew Mr. Stark didn’t have the time to go through multiple hours of patrol footage every night, so he figured that as long as there wasn’t anything that deviated too drastically from Karen and his reports, then there would never be a reason for Mr. Stark to check.
Clearly something keyed him off.
And something about the look Mr. Stark was giving him now ignited both a slight shame and a stubborn streak in Peter. Because lying was bad, and Mr. Stark was really just looking out for him, but Peter wasn’t just a kid.
If he wanted to take on bigger things, like mob enforcers, arms dealers, and murderers, then that should be his prerogative. He was stronger than Captain America, faster than Black Panther, and healed faster than almost every other hero out there. The idea of sticking to just bike thieves and muggings when there were people that needed his help was unreasonable and ridiculous.
It felt like half his body wanted to cow away from Mr. Stark’s scrutinizing look and the other half wanted to cross his arms and stay rooted where he was. It was confusing and Peter hated the feeling.
Mr. Stark clearly had more to say on the topic, his body language screaming with the need to have the last word. Instead, he shook his head and turned away to go grab a chair, breaking the tense moment.
He probably just didn’t want to bring up any Spider-Man related business in public, but it was still a relief.
—---
Flash Thompson was not an idiot.
Despite the fact that Parker, his parents, and all his peers seemed to think he was, Flash wasn’t dumb.
He had all As, a 4.37 GPA, and kept up with 4 different extracurriculars. Parker only handled one.
Flash was also observant. If his father had taught him one thing, it’s how to figure out when someone was shady. And ‘Tony Reilly’ was the very definition of shady.
Getting into Midtown Tech was not an easy thing to do. The application process was so rigorous that Flash had seen multiple kids crying after the first entrance exam. He considered himself to be a good writer, but even he had invested in an applications professional to help him with the admissions essay. It was the best school in the state and top five in the nation because they only accept the best of the best.
It’s because of this rigor that Midtown Tech never accepted anyone mid-year, especially not an upperclassman. They would have to have frankly ridiculous stats to even be considered.
So how did Tony Reilly get in?
If he shared Parker’s admittedly high intelligence, he’d shown no signs of it so far. Flash shared his AP Physics 2 and AP Chemistry class with the older boy, and he didn’t raise his hand to answer questions or try to gain the teacher’s approval. He sat in the back and messed with his phone under his desk. Sometimes Flash heard him muttering stuff under his breath, and if he strained, it sounded like the answers to some of the questions being posed. But otherwise Reilly was a non-factor in class.
Not to mention that his existence wasn’t even possible.
As much as Flash hated Parker, he’d known him for years. He’s an orphan whose only living family was his Aunt May. No other aunts or uncles, and especially no cousins.
As soon as Flash heard Reilly being introduced as Parker’s cousin, he did a little research of his own. No social media, no mentions in news articles (which wouldn’t be strange if it weren’t for the fact that he’d have to be a bonafide genius with a million accomplishments to his name to get into Midtown the way he did), and no public documents. He got some return on various Tony and Anthony Reilly’s, but none of them matched the desired age range or looks.
It was infuriating.
It was intriguing.
Flash had a few theories. Witness Protection was the first idea, but he quickly got rid of it. Why would he be sent to live with the Parkers’ of all people and not some US Marshal or other relative? And even if he did even up with them, why Midtown? The Parkers’ lived in Queens, there were closer, more normal high schools.
Aliens had been his next idea, but there was the question of why would an alien want anything to do with nerdy, unimportant Peter Parker.
Shapeshifters, the mob, demon possession, the list went on. All of them had various issues and holes.
Flash had started noting down in his phone the evidence and theories, and none of it lined up.
He was writing up his thoughts on a potential government conspiracy at lunch when someone spoke up behind him.
“Fascinating theory, but not quite true,” Reilly said, sarcasm dripping from his words. He was standing at Flash’s right shoulder, looking down at the phone. “Frankly, I’m a little honored you think I’m that special. Doesn’t mean much coming from you, but I’ll take a compliment where I can get it.”
Flash felt his cheeks warm up as he realized he’d been caught. It’s clear the older boy was only mildly amused, in fact he seemed almost incensed based on the cold look Flash was receiving.
“This isn’t about you,” Flash lied.
“You literally wrote my name multiple times.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should get your eyesight checked.”
“And maybe you should quit being such a dick to other kids,” Reilly suggested, with a tone that implied it wasn’t really a suggestion at all (He added a mental note to the list: the strange use of ‘kids’ as if he wasn’t supposed to be their age.).
Flash’s hands balled into fists.
“You got a problem with me?” He said, standing from his spot at the lunch table. It was still the beginning of lunch, and the rest of Flash’s friends hadn’t made their way from their classes yet, so he was sitting alone. However, the other people who were milling about the room started staring at them.
Reilly didn’t step back, instead he looked down his nose at Flash like he was nothing to him. That’s how Flash’s father looked at him, and it made him feel like his insides were on fire, and not in a fun way.
“It seems you have a problem with Peter.”
Flash clenched his jaw. “Did Parker put you up to this? He can’t fight his own battles?”
Parker usually had no issues with involving himself in confrontations with Flash, and he certainly wasn’t the type to hide behind his friends, or cousins. The only time Parker would ever back down is from a physical altercation, because of his asthma and various health issues. Even then, Flash had a feeling that he’d still throw himself into a fight if he deemed the reason good enough.
Reilly rolled his eyes. “No. But I don’t need his permission to tell you to lay off. Peter doesn’t need any of this grief from bullies.”
Flash raised his eyebrows at that. “You have no clue what you’re talking about,” he said. “I’m not a bully.”
Bullying implied an imbalance of power, and Parker had all the power in their relationship. He made Flash feel stupid without putting in any effort at all. He walked around, all high and mighty like he’s some kind of genius. Flash worked twice as hard as him, and for what? Not even second place.
And just to rub it in, Parker felt the need to make up a bunch of stories about knowing Spider-Man and interning at Stark Industries. Flash never fell for it, but the fact that he did that just to make himself look that much better pissed Flash off.
No matter how many times Flash called Parker on his lies, he got his loyal lackeys, Leeds and Jones, to defend him. Parker had no issue keeping up with whatever insults and accusations Flash threw his way, and it’s infuriating.
Peter Parker was smart, sharp witted, good looking, and loved by everyone around him. And it’s not fair that he got that, while Flash, who actually puts effort into his schoolwork and relationships, got rewarded with nothing but shitty parents, an average class rank, and shallow friendships.
He deserved better.
“What’s your issue with Peter anyways? Kid’s nothing but kind to everyone he knows,” Reilly argued.
“He’s got everything,” Flash hissed. And a part of him wonders why he’s revealing this to some guy he barely knew, and another part was too furious to care. “He’s perfect and gets everything and does nothing to earn it. I do. I work so hard to be better than him and he continues to win through no effort at all.”
Reilly tilted his head to the side, giving Flash a strange look.
“He thinks I’m stupid, they all do. It’s not like they don’t get questions wrong or make mistakes, yet I’m the only one getting called out for it.”
Ms Warren’s ‘being the fastest isn’t the best if you are wrong’ after Parker showed him up in Physics. He got it wrong, so? She didn’t have to humiliate him like that in front of the class.
Jones and the others on the Decathlon team making a big deal about Flash being ‘just the alternate’ whenever he answered wrongly.
His father, shoving every failure and humiliation into his face. Flash’s accomplishments weren’t worth a second thought to him, but his failures were examined and picked apart until Flash felt like the frog he had dissected in his biology class last year. Nothing he did is good enough for the man.
The worst was his mother. Because his father was intentionally cruel, and at a certain point, Flash could write away his criticisms. He couldn’t do that with his mother, because she didn’t hate him like his father did. She’s the one that read him bedtime stories as a kid, and always held his hand while crossing the street. She used to call Flash ‘her little man’ and was always there to stick a bandaid on his skinned knees.
But then she met Parker. They had been friends for long enough that even once they fell apart she still asked about him. ‘Oh, how was Peter today?’, ‘Are you meeting up with Peter?’, ‘Do you want me to organize a playdate?’. And Flash usually brushed off the questions with exclamations of ‘Good’, ‘Not today, I’m busy’, or ‘I’m a little too old for playdates, Mother’ because he couldn’t tell her he’d lost the only friend he’d had at that point in time.
It was manageable for a while. Then he started at Midtown and his mother was still Facebook friends with May Parker, and the questions changed from ‘Do you want to invite Peter to go to the park with us?’ to ‘Oh, did you hear? Peter won the robotics competition’ and ‘Why aren’t you doing band, Peter is’ and ‘Peter is taking more APs than you are, are you falling behind?’
Each question stung more than the previous. And as the year went on and Flash’s father started to work later hours and get even snappier when he got home, his mother started to take less and less concern with Flash and his schooling. She was so focused on figuring out who his father was having an affair with that she hadn’t noticed when he came back with a winning verdict at his Mock Trial competition. The only times she seemed to notice nowadays were when Flash was falling behind compared to his classmates. It had been concern at first, but as his parents’ marriage fell apart and her emotions became more erratic it slowly turned to criticism and now Flash had one more person who felt like he would never add up to perfect Peter Parker.
“And how is that Peter’s fault? You’re mad that he’s smarter than you? Tough, deal with it. It’s not like he can change that,” Reilly said, his tone cold. And something about the dismissal felt different from when Jones or Parker shot back at him. With them, it felt like an argument that was put on hold, right now he felt like a child being scorned by an adult.
Which was stupid. Reilly was barely a year older. He shouldn’t be making Flash feel like a kid just because he’s mastered a disapproving tone of voice.
“I’m mad that he thinks he’s better than me. That he can waltz around the school with his fake Stark Internship and pretend to know Spider-Man, yet no one gives him the grief I get for just making simple mistakes,” Flash snapped. And, oh.
He’s said too much, far too much to some random guy and now he’s vulnerable. Half the cafeteria was looking in their direction and Flash felt like an animal on display in a circus. He didn’t want to deal with this, he couldn’t.
To distract himself from his sudden difficulty with breathing and slip of the tongue, Flash hastily grabbed his stuff. He stormed past Reilly, checking his shoulder and ignoring the call from the other boy.
He needed to get out of here.