Chapter 1
Harold (Happy) Hogan was a professional boxer before he met Tony Stark. He was a boxer with a washed out career and no money in his pocket, but he was a professional nonetheless. Then Happy met Tony Stark, saved his life in fact on a race course, so Tony offered him a job. A personal assistant and chauffeur. There was an unspoken agreement between the two. Protect me, do as I ask, and I’ll give you enough money so that you can retire with it, and I’ll throw in a free arena for you to box in. What do you say? So of course, Happy said yes. It wasn’t until Tony started building a suit of armor that would become his ally in saving the world that Happy realized he was in over his head taking this job with Stark. But by the time he realized that, it was too late.
He had become friends with Tony, and he couldn’t leave him now. Especially not when Tony took care of him the way he did. Happy was so grateful for his crazy arrogant mess of a friend that he was even willing to do the most annoying of tasks for him.
And today, Happy was tasked with the most annoying order of all: driving the spider kid around.
Normally Happy wouldn’t mind so much. Well at first he did. He minded a lot. It was torture listening to the kid babble on and on about everything from his school lunch to his hot aunt (hot according to Happy, not so much Peter).
But he got used to picking Peter up from school, and driving him from the Avengers Tower back to his home in Queens. But what upset him today, was where Tony wanted him to drive the kid.
S.H.I.E.L.D’s secret headquarters located in New York City. Nick Fury’s main base of operations was the destination today, and for a very bad reason.
Peter had done it again. He made another bone headed impulsive mistake. He was told to follow the suspect, but Peter made a detour in order to save a little girl from a collapsing billboard. Since he didn’t follow orders, Nick Fury was furious.
In the military, they had rules for subordinates that disobeyed orders. They could be subjected to a court-martial and the result in the most likely ended with a flogging.
Nick Fury had something very similar to the military in regards to avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D members disobeying orders. In short, they were typically punished in some type of physical way.
Happy ran his fingers over the smooth leather steering wheel. But Peter was just a fifteen-year-old kid, subjecting him to a physical reprimanding would be cruel.
Nevertheless, Happy had the direct orders to take the kid to Fury’s headquarters so that’s what Happy was doing.
Peter was in the backseat, his leg jittering up and down, as his eyes glued to the window. He had his headphones in his ears and he seemed content enough. His blue backpack was next to him, with a bunch papers sticking out the sides.
The kid always brought his homework just in case he would have extra time to work on it.
“Whoa, Happy did you see that?”
Glancing through the rear-view mirror, Happy noticed Peter had taken out his headphones, and was currently engrossed in something happening out the window.
“A bunch of deer just leaped a wall. Seriously! They just jumped like four feet in the air. Isn’t that insane? I didn’t know their legs could do that.”
“Really?” Happy tried to look back through one of the side mirrors but he couldn’t see what was going on.
“Yeah, that was crazy. Hey Happy?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you ever gonna tell me why you’re name is Happy?”
The man rolled his eyes. Peter always asked him that, so much so that it was becoming a routine.
“Happy? Did you hear me?” Peter asked.
“I heard you.” He clarified. “But I’m ignoring you.”
“Is it because your Mom was really happy when she had you?”
“No.”
“We’re you always happy as a kid?”
“No.”
“Did Mister Stark give you the name?
“No.”
“Can you at least give me a hint?”
“Can you go back to listening to your music?” Happy retorted.
With a grunt of frustration, Peter slouched back against the car seat, then folded his feet up, so he was sitting cross-legged on the cool black seat. Happy made a note to buy the kid a new pair of sneakers since the one’s he was wearing were practically falling apart.
Peter pursed his lips together. His wide, brown eyes went back to watching the cars roll by the freeway.
“Am I in trouble?” He asked casually.
Happy didn’t really know how to respond. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.
“Probably.”
Peter’s whole body tensed. “I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to help. There was this little girl, and if I didn’t help she would have been hurt. I just - I think that’s more important, you know? So what if the bad guy got away. At least no one got hurt.”
“Hey, you don’t need to tell me this. I don’t think you need punished.”
“But Mister Stark does?” The question was hesitant, but packed with a deep amount of guilt.
“No, Pete. Nick Fury does. Tony’s only doing what he has to do.”
Peter blinks several times before leaping out of the backseat, and climbing over into the passengers side.
“Jesus kid!” Happy exclaimed, having a near heart attack at the sudden movement.
“Let’s turn on some tunes.”
“No. Go back to listening to your headphones.” Happy’s order fell on deaf ears, as Peter flipped through the radio stations.
“Oh I love this song!” He yelled. “Come on, Happy. Sing with me.”
“No. No. No.” Happy’s shouting grew immensely to try and over power Peter’s loud singing voice. “This is not happening. Hell no.” Happy exclaimed.
“Oh can’t you see me standing here, I got my back against the record machine. Can’t you see what I mean!” Peter belted the words, pretending to hold a microphone with his fist.
“Might as well jump! Doo doo doo doo doo.”
“Please make it stop.” Happy cried to the sky.
Peter bit his lip, grinning wildly. “Oh come on, Happy. You know you want to join me.”
“No I really don’t.”
Peter’s eyes lit up, as he stumbled upon the cup holders.
“Whoa! How many cup holders do you have? That’s awesome. You can fit like twenty drinks up here.”
Peter turned towards him, “Happy, how many drinks do you usually drink during a road trip with Mister Stark?”
“Depends how long.”
Peter nodded, “Does it make you have to go to the bathroom...like... a lot?”
Taking his eyes off the road for ten seconds, Happy glared daggers at the kid.
Peter’s blue science hoodie was a little big on him, but it was a nice look. The kid was rocking the sweater paws as he adjusted the radio again.
By the time they got to their destination, Happy was exhausted. Forty minutes with Peter in a car was too much for him to handle. He relished in the thought of being alone for a few hours as the kid delt with whatever business Fury had waiting for him.
Peter stepped out of the car slowly. He looked at Happy and shuttered.
“My spider senses just flared.”
“You mean your Peter tingle?”
Peter glared at Happy, offering a playful shove. “Shut up.”
“There’s nothing to be nervous about. Just go inside and do what you gotta do.”
Peter nodded, biting his lip. It took him a few seconds to muster up the courage, but he eventually strode inside.
After a quick nap, Happy woke up at about 5:15. He looked at his watch, then the building, and sighed. Nothing to do now but wait for the spider-ling.
Happy pulled out a book he had been saving and started to read. He barely got through the first chapter of his book, when he heard the back door of the car open.
The violent outburst of sound was followed directly by another worse action, which was the slamming of the door.
“Whoa. Hello there kid. No need to break -“
“Drive.” Peter demanded, coldly.
Confused by his mood, Happy turned around in his seat so he was facing the backseat.
And Jesus, the kid was a mess. His hair was sticking up in different directions, his eyes were red, and he was frozen still. The only movement was his chest and stomach which were heaving with his ragged breathing. As Happy looked more closely, he noticed Peter’s hands were shaking.
Did they mess him up that bad?
He was a tough kid. Happy had seen him take punches from grown men twice his size. Peter never really complained about it. He healed quickly. Part of his weird spider DNA.
So what the hell did Nick Fury do to this kid?
“Peter -“
“Drive Happy! Please. I want to get out of here.”
At the pleading, Happy quickly spun around and shifted the gears to drive. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” He said, quickly leaving the headquarters behind.
What followed was the most silent car ride that Happy has ever experienced in his entire existence. Even when he drives alone, he usually listens to the radio.
But right now, everything was silent. Fifteen minutes later, and Peter still hadn’t said a word. That had to be a new record. Happy would have been proud if he wasn’t so damn concerned.
A storm had approached, like Peter earlier predicted, but Happy was grateful that the rain could provide some heavy splashing sounds to drown out the silence. Plus it served as a nice distraction from the tension that was sucking the air out of the car. Water droplets pelted against the windshield, the storm picking up in intensity.
Peter sat with his arms curled around his legs, leaning against the window. His whole body was trembling at this point and Happy had no idea what to do.
“Peter? Are you okay?”
The boy nodded too quickly. He blinked rapidly, as if fighting off tears.
“Did they yell at you?”
A single tear slipped down his cheek. He gave a nod, lower lip quivering.
“I’m sorry.” Peter swallowed a lump in throat, and that’s all it took for him to lose the battle with his tears.
“Sorry for what?”
As one single tear leaked down his face, Peter quickly used his blue sweater to wipe it away.
Happy was rigid against the drivers seat. He felt angry, more angry than he probably should considering the kid isn’t even his. But he also felt uncomfortable, extremely uncomfortable.
Peter’s sniffling. It sounds wet. The kind of sniffling that accompanies tears, not just a runny nose.
“Kid. Talk to me. What happened?”
Happy shot him a concerned glance through the rearview mirror. He could barely keep his eyes on the road.
Peter curled in closer on himself, sniffling louder. “Fury was mad.”
Happy tried for a joke. “Fury was furious?”
Instead of laughing, Peter simply nodded. “I’m so sorry Happy. I messed up bad. I’m so sorry.”
“Pete. It’s fine. Do you want me to drive you to Stark’s? Maybe you can talk to him about this? It might make you feel better?”
“No! Please Happy, please don’t take me to Mister Stark’s. I messed up bad, and and Mister Stark is probably so mad at me. I bet he already hates me -“
“Peter!”
“-Please don’t take me there. Please! He might hit me.”
“Tony wouldn’t hit you.” Happy shouted, enraged by the outlandish comment. “Where the hell is this coming from?”
“He said he would.” Peter whispered.
“Tony said that?”
“No. But Nick Furry said that Mr. Stark would be the one to do it if I get in trouble again. That I’m going to be his problem.”
Peter’s sniffling was amping up. “And - and I don’t want to make Mister Stark have to deal with me.”
Peter’s breathing was reaching an all time panic. “I don’t want him to h-hate me or have -have to deal with me!” Peter confessed in utter distress.
“Okay, okay Pete. Shh. None of that. No don’t do that. Peter stop.”
But it was too late, Peter’s face crumbled and he broke out crying, covering his eyes with his hands.
Happy was dumbfounded. He’d seen Peter tossed around by men twice his size, seen the kid fall from more than two stories, and fall through glass. Each time, Peter would get back up and keep fighting, never once letting a single tear fall. Yet, here he is, crying over some scolding Fury gave him. What the hell did Fury say?
Peter let out a few hearty coughs. “Ugh, why do I always mess up?” A sob escaped his thin lips, as he cried, body shivering.
“I feel sick.” Peter squeaked.
Happy paled. “You want me to pull over? Are you going to puke?”
“No sir.”
Sir? Happy was deeply alarmed. “That’s it, I’m going to pull over.”
“No!” Peter’s eyes went wide with panic. “I’m sorry Happy! I’m sorry! I won’t complain anymore. Just please, please don’t pull over.”
“Kid calm down. I want a cheeseburger. Tony likes cheeseburgers so I think we should bring one back to him. And you can have one too, all right?”
Sniffling, Peter wiped at his eyes, “Is that the only reason you’re pulling over?”
“Yes...” Happy was at a loss, what the hell was the kid thinking.
“Okay.” Sniffles again. “I’ll have a double bacon cheeseburger please.”
“All right. That’s more like it.”
Immediately spotting an exit sign, Happy pulled off the highway and parked in the first fast-food joint he could find.
“Burger King is Tony’s favorite so I’d say we lucked out.” Happy explained, as he opened the door to the backseat.
“We’re going inside?”
“Yeah. I want a break from driving, and I think you could use a little break. Come on.”
“Happy,” the teen sniffed, “I’m- I’m - I’m a wreck.”
“You’re fine. Come on. This place looks empty anyways. Come on.”
Hesitantly, Peter debated moving. He gave Happy one last pleading glance before gingerly sliding out of the backseat and onto the pavement. When his feet hit the ground, Peter began to get woozy, and he swayed back and forth. But Happy clasped a steady hand on his shoulder and guided him inside the dining room.
“You grab us a chair, I’ll order. What do you want to drink?”
“Um... soda is fine. I guess, Pepsi or Coke.”
Happy nodded, then went to the cashier. He was right about one thing, the place was nearly deserted with the exception of a few elderly couples.
Peter chose to sit in a booth near the window. He winced as he sat, a new wave of tears threatening to fall, but he blinked them back. He was not about to cry in a public space.
It didn’t take long for Happy to return with the warm, french fry smelling, food. He sat across from Peter and handed the kid his drink and burger.
“I grabbed some ketchup packets for us.” Happy said, tossing a handful of tiny red packs onto the center of the table for both to share.
Peter nodded, still extremely subdued. “Thanks.” He whispered.
Outside the glass window, Happy noticed the rain was letting up. The room was cozy, just the two of them eating some food and chilling. Happy can’t even remember the last time he got to eat out in public in peace. Not since he met Tony Stark, that’s for sure. But Happy enjoyed Tony’s fame. He liked it because Tony liked it. But still it was nice to enjoy a meal in peace for a change.
Peter was sitting across from Happy, quietly unwrapping his burger. His hands were still trembling and his face was red and splotchy. Worst of all, he still had some tears dripping down his cheeks as he bit slowly into his burger. Something inside Happy snapped. Maybe it was a fatherly instinct he didn’t know he had, but he grabbed a brown paper napkin, and gently wiped at Peter’s tears.
“Hey, come on now. Everything’s all good. We’re far away from that place and you’re all done dealing with that punishment crap. It’s just the two of us here, and I’m certainly not mad at you, so you can relax.”
Peter sniffled again, but nodded. “Thanks Happy.”
Happy nodded, taking a huge bite out of his meal, and lathering his fries in ketchup.
Peter scrubbed at his eyes for a while, trying to will the tears away. Another thing, Happy took notice of way too late in the evening was how Peter shifted around in his seat. It never occurred to the man that Peter might be hurting from the ordeal. He just figured Peter was sensitive and upset of being scolded. He also knew of the so called ‘flogging’, but he figured with Peter’s healing abilities it wouldn’t be hurting the boy anymore.
But here Peter was withering in his chair, grimacing when he thought Happy wasn’t looking, and shooting a few suppressed whimpers into his burger.
“Are you hurt?” Happy asked after he finished his Coke, and since Peter was still ridiculously silent, Happy figured he would start the conversation with what he really needed to talk about.
Unfortunately Peter didn’t agree that it was important to discuss. “I’m fine.” His voice was small and wobbly as he spoke.
“You don’t seem like it.”
Peter narrowed his eyes, and Happy was taken aback with that reaction.
“Well what did you expect? They whipped me with a freaking - one of those - stick things, of course it hurts.”
Happy raised an eyebrow. “Stick things?”
Peter cringed, “Happy please, can we please not talk about this.” He dropped his half eaten burger onto the tray.
“I want to go home.”
Happy frowned. “Like a cane? Is that what you mean by stick thing?”
Scowling, Peter pulled his blue hoodie over his head. “Mhm.”
“So what? Fury just beat you?”
Peter groaned. “Happy, please. Please stop talking about this.”
“I just want to know. I mean, you’re obviously really upset. But at the same time, you got super strength right? And those healing abilities.”
“It still hurts.” Peter explained quietly. “I heal quick, but not if I’m hit in the same place over and over again, which I was.”
“How many times?”
“Can we please go home?”
“Peter, how many times did they hit you?”
Grunting in displeasure, the teen threw his head back in distress. “Happy!”
“Hey, I want to make sure you’re all right.”
“I am, I am. Can we just go home?”
Happy frowned, but nodded his head, and shuffled out of the booth. “Yeah, let’s go.”
They tossed the remainders of their food in the trash, which wasn’t very much since Happy was hungry and devoured most of his burger and fries, then they got back to the car.
“Okay, hop in.” Happy said, holding the black door open.
Peter sucked in a breath, staring at the car ominously.
“What?” Happy barked. He didn’t mean to sound so impatient or angry, but this whole new behavior Peter was exhibiting was bizarre, and Happy was growing weary of how to deal with it.
“Nothing.” Peter said, slipping into the backseat. His face screwed tight as he placed pressure on his backside, and he almost immediately rolled onto his hip, bringing his two legs up to rest on the seat next to him.
Happy shut the door and went around to the drivers side.
“Are you excited to get your license?” At this point, Happy was trying to change the subject, hoping that Peter would perk up to his usual self again. Unfortunately, he did not.
“Yeah.”
That was it. That was all Happy was going to get with that question. Glancing at the car’s clock, it read 5:50 which made sense because the sun was just staring to set.
“Hey Pete. Do you want to listen to some tunes?”
The kid mumbled an incoherent no.
“Okay then...” Happy carried on driving. “Want to talk about why you’re so upset?”
“No.” He said sharply.
“I think we should talk about it.”
“No Happy there’s nothing to talk -“
“Was it because they hit you with a stick thingy? Is that what’s really bothering you?”
“No - well I mean - it - it hurts but -“
“But you’re mostly upset about Tony being disappointed in you?”
“N-no. No.”
“You don’t want to be a burden on Tony?”
“That’s not - I never said -“
“Yeah you said that. You also said Tony would have to deal with you in the future, and that’s why you never want to see him again.”
“What? No! Happy, I never said that. Of course I want to see Mr. Stark again. I just don’t think he’ll want to see me again.”
“Why? Cause you messed up one mission? So what? Tony’s messed up a hell of a lot more than you, kid. He won’t hold it against you.”
“I just -“ Peter let out a shaky breath, “I just wanted to impress him, you know? I didn’t want to let him down, and then I go and blow a really important mission. Gosh, I’m such an idiot. I ruined my relationship with him again, all because I couldn’t follow a simple order. Mr. Stark’s right, I never listen.”
“Kid -“
“That’s why he sent me there.”
Happy slowed the car, to a red-light, and grew silent as Happy thought over what the kid had just said.
“You think Tony ordered you to go to S.H.E.I.L.D headquarters?”
“Yeah. I know he did. It was Mr. Stark who told you to take me there.”
“Yeah, but kid, he didn’t want you to go. It wasn’t his idea. Fury sent him a message saying you were required to show up, and it was in Stark’s best interest to drop you off. The only reason Fury let Stark know what was happening was because he knew you couldn’t drive and he needed someone to take you. That’s all. Tony would never force you go through something like that. He doesn’t believe in S.H.E.I.L.D’s methods of discipline. He doesn’t like them much.”
Peter snorted, “Me neither.”
“So the point is, don’t worry about Tony. I promise you, he’s probably more worried about you than he is anything else.”
“You really don’t think he’s mad at me?”
“You disobeyed a direct order,” Peter winced, “But you also saved a girl’s life. In Tony’s book, that’s the right move.”
For the first time since the ordeal, Happy saw a smile spread across the younger boy’s face. “Really? Cause that’s what I was thinking too, but then Fury made me think that maybe I was wrong and Mr. Stark would be disappointed and ashamed of me.”
“No.” Happy shook his head rapidly, “Kid, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.”
“Thanks Happy.” Peter said, shifting his feet underneath his butt.
“Do you need some pain-killers?”
“I don’t think over the counter medicine works on me. Too fast of a metabolism. They go right through me.”
“I still don’t understand how you’re still hurt.”
“They hit me a lot,” he shrugged. “It makes sense. Doesn’t matter, I’ll heal eventually here.”
Happy nodded, “Yeah you will. Still though... Tony’s going to hate to see you in pain.”
“Do we have to go to Mr. Stark’s tower? Can’t I just go home?”
“And what? Worry your aunt?”
Peter hissed, “Oh man, I completely forgot about how May would react. She’s gonna freak out.”
Happy shrugged, “At least she’ll be concerned about you, instead of mad at you.”
“I don’t want to worry her. She’s been through enough already. Okay, let’s go see Mr. Stark. I have to face him sooner or later. Might as well be tonight.”
“Maybe Tony can whip you up something that can keep up with your fast metabolism.”
“You think Mr. Stark can create medicine? He’s not a doctor?”
“He’s a genius though. Give him a bunch of chemistry, pharmacy text books and he’ll have you antidote by morning.”
“By morning, I’ll be completely healed.” Peter laughed. “Thanks anyways, Happy. For everything. I like driving with you.”
Happy smiled. “I kinda like driving with you too, kid. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
Peter laughed. “Sorry I was being such a baby. I’m just not used to feeling pain for a long period of time, it’s weird.”
“It’s no problem, kid. I know you’re a weird mutated freak.”
“Oh thank you.” Peter said, shooting off a web so it landed in the back of Happy’s hair.
“You little -“ Happy laughed, reaching a hand back to kick at Peter’s legs. “Freaky spider-boy.”
“It’s spider-man.” Peter corrected while picking the web out of Happy’s hair.
“Yeah I know.”