Progress Report

For a moment, no one moves. They just stand where they are in the dark, silently waiting. There’s a sense of wrongness - this is not just a power cut. The power doesn’t just fail in the Stark Industries building. Friday doesn’t go quiet. Monica doesn’t know what Friday is, but she knows from Tony Stark’s tone that something going wrong with Friday is very, very bad.

They can’t just stand there. The lights might be out, but their brains haven’t broken. There must be something they can do. “Is there a back-up generator?” Monica whispers. She’s not sure why she’s whispering, it just feels like she should. Why isn’t Happy doing anything? He’s clearly a security person as well as being an Asset Manager, whatever that is. He must know the protocol.

“Shh,” hisses Peter, “I’m listening.”

Monica’s listening too. She can’t hear anything but her own breathing. Wait - maybe that’s something. People talking, too far away to make out the words.

“Oh, shit,” exclaims Peter. Monica whips around to look at where the sound came from. She still can’t see him. Her eyes aren’t adjusting like they should. “I mean, don’t worry Ms. Warren, everything’s gonna be fine!” There’s a tremor in his voice and a rising intonation which makes her stomach clench.

The room is almost completely pitch-black, the only light emitting from the faintly luminous slime leaking out of explosion room B. The lack of windows is starting to weigh on her. She can hear Peter moving across the room with perfect ease, as though the lights are still blazing.

“Um,” Peter whispers in the same clearly audible voice he uses to talk to Ned during class, “Hey, Happy? Kind of a weird question, but do you know how to defuse a bomb?”

“What?” Happy asks, alarmed.

Monica’s heart gives a strange stutter, her chest feeling tight. She really, really, hopes Peter is just making casual conversation to pass the time until the lights come up. She doubts it.

“What’s going on, kid? What did you hear?” Happy asks again.

“There’s a guy doing a bad guy speech to Mr Stark,” Peter replies. How he knows that, Monica can’t fathom. She can hear the faint sound of a voice talking against the silence of the powered-down building, but there’s no way it’s humanly possible to make out the words. At her last check-up, she’d had perfect hearing, there’s no way Peter’s ears are that much better than hers. But then she remembers Happy talking to Tony Stark through his watch and hearing a reply in an invisible earpiece, and she realises Peter’s probably got a piece of tech helping him. He probably made it himself. At this point, after seeing the drone and the physics project and the liquid adhesive, she wouldn’t put it past him to have invented a hearing aid that enhances hearing beyond human ability. Or he’s got a similar two-way communication system to Happy, although why he would have that is a question she’s saving for a less stressful moment.

“Did you say a bomb?” Monica asks. Her voice sounds much steadier than she feels. She’s always prided herself on being calm in a crisis.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Warren! We’ve got this under control,” Peter says, with somewhat worrying confidence. He’s only betrayed by the tiny shake in his voice. He starts whispering to Happy again, as though she can’t hear him in the absolute quiet of the lab. Even the hum of the air conditioning has stopped. She hadn’t realised how noisy it was until it turned off. “I think he works in R&D? He’s real mad at Ms Potts for not promoting him, and he came up here to steal an Iron Man suit to escape before the bomb goes off, only he thought Mr Stark wouldn’t be here because of how he’s meant to be upstate on Fridays.”

“Don’t even think about going to help Tony, kid,” Happy growls, “He’s Iron Man, he’ll be fine. We need to get out of here and evacuate the building. Are we locked in?”

Monica feels frozen in place, detached from reality. Things like this don’t happen in real life, do they? She’s a Physics teacher from Queens, she should be at a staff meeting.

“Hey, Karen,” Peter says, still not as scared as he should be. “Are you there?”

“Hello, Peter,” the smooth female voice of his phone - sorry, AI -  replies. It’s strangely comforting. At least something’s still working. The phone emits a soft blue glow, lighting Peter’s face. “As I am an independent system, and not part of Friday, I am currently functioning. However, at this time I have no access to Friday’s databases, and no ability to communicate with Friday. I also appear to be unable to communicate with devices that do not operate on the Karen system.”

“So we can’t contact Mr Stark?” Peter asks. “Or call 911?”

“I’m afraid not, Peter.”

“And the floor is in lockdown?”

“It appears so. A very sophisticated virus has infected Friday, engaging all the building lockdown systems. I withdrew and put up a series of firewalls before I could be infected, so I have no further information.”

“Where’s the fire exit?” Monica asks. “Shouldn’t we pull the fire alarm?”

Peter’s still for a moment, listening. “The bad guy just told Mr Stark the bomb will go off if anyone tries to open a fire exit. I mean, he could be lying, sometimes bad guys try to bluff their way out of stuff, but…”

It’s kind of horrifying that Peter sounds like he knows that from experience. Monica takes a breath, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants. If she gets out of this, she’s never going to complain about the Friday afternoon staff meeting again. The voices are getting louder down the hallway.

“How long have we got, Peter?” Happy asks.

“I don’t know,” Peter replies, “I mean, he’s talking a lot, but you know… hey, do you think Mr Stark needs some back up?”

“He’s Iron Man, kid, I think he can handle one scientist without the help of a twelve-year-old,” Happy replies. It’s comforting how much faith Happy as in his employer, but at the same time, hiding in a chemistry lab, waiting for someone to save the day while thousands of people are in immediate mortal danger doesn’t sit well with Monica. There’s already a crushing sense of guilt wearing through her haze of fear. There must be something they can do.

“But,” Peter starts to protest, but Happy cuts him off.

“You’re gonna crawl through the vents,” he says, “Pepper’s office is on the floor below us. Go in and tell her Tony wants to know if she wants pineapple on her pizza. She’ll know what to do. Then you get the hell out. Evacuate with the rest of the staff and go home.”

“But what about you? What about Ms Warren? I can’t just leave you guys here.”

“Leave us, Peter,” Monica instructs him, “Evacuating the building is the best thing you can do.” Her voice sounds every bit as calm and firm as it does when she’s teaching, at odds with her racing mind and thumping heart. She fights the strange urge to laugh. If she gets out of here, the first thing she’s going to do is go and hug her nephew. Hold him tight and make sure he’s never, ever in a position where he has to crawl through vents in a building filled with explosives.

“Do I look like a vent-crawling guy? Get going!” Happy urges. “Do you need a hand getting up there?”

“No, I’m good,” Peter answers, before somehow launching himself onto one of the benchtops and reaching up to pull the grate off the vent in the ceiling. Monica can’t see exactly what happens in the darkness, just hears the clank of metal hitting the floor and sees the shadows of Peter’s legs disappearing inside the vent as he hoists himself up with the ease of an olympic gymnast. Coach Wilson did tell her that Peter’s performance in gym class had really come along this year, but she hadn’t understood how much. She’s fairly sure she wouldn’t be able to follow him into that vent even with Peter hauling her in from above and Happy pushing from below. She’s in quite good shape for a high-school Physics teacher, but she can’t do a single pull-up.

“Don’t go looking for the bomb, Peter, I mean it,” Happy calls up to him.

But Peter’s already gone.

Down the hallway, a shot reverberates around the room. Something crashes to the floor. Someone’s yelling, interspersed with brief statements from a quieter, goading voice. There’s something caught in Monica’s throat. She grips the bench top so hard her fingers hurt.

“You good?” Happy asks.

No. No, she’s not good. There’s a bomb in the building, her student is crawling through the ventilation system, and she’s hiding in a chemistry lab filled with green slime while someone shoots at Iron Man 200 yards away. She is not good.

“Would he?”

“Would he what?”

“Would he go looking for the bomb? Why would he do that?”

“Kid’s got an overactive sense of responsibility,” Happy tells her, “Do you know anything about electronic locking systems?”

She doesn’t really know anything about electronic locking systems. She teaches kids about electricity in some of her classes, but that’s about what it is and how it’s produced, she’s not an electrical engineer. She knows basically how locks work though, so she can have a look. It beats standing around uselessly, listening to the fight down the hallway.

She’s feeling her way across the lab to examine the door when Karen speaks from Happy’s pocket. “Peter has activated Homecoming Protocol,” the AI announces, “You may not decline this call.”

Happy pulls up short, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out his phone, which is flashing red and vibrating violently. Monica doesn’t like where this is going.

“What’s happening, Peter?” Happy barks.

There’s a rustling noise and some breathing. Then: “I swear I wasn’t looking for it, Happy.”

“Jesus Christ,” Happy groans, “Where are you? Just back off and we’ll come up with plan B. Don’t touch it.”

Monica sits down heavily on the floor and tries to breathe.

“I-I don’t think I can do that Happy,” Peter’s voice is trembling, “It’s in the vent over Ms Potts’ office. There’s a timer.”

“Deep breaths, kid,” Happy puts the phone on the bench, screen up like when Peter had demonstrated Droney. That seems like a million years ago now. “What’s on the timer?”

“3 minutes 52,” Peter says.

3 minutes. It’s not enough. Even if Iron Man wins his fight, busts through the ventilation system and flies it out of the building it’s not enough time. Even if Peter crawls back up to them, it’s not long enough. There’s no time to evacuate the building if he finds a different grate to climb out of. There’s not even a way for Monica to get a message to her brother, or tell her nephew she loves him. She clasps her shaking hands together and thinks of all the things she wants to say, like if she thinks them hard enough her family might hear.

“Connecting to Droney,” Karen says, calmly as ever, because artificial intelligence doesn’t feel fear.

“You’ve got this, Pete,” Happy says, “It’s just like any other piece of electronics.”

The hologram zips out of Happy’s phone, rotating above the bench, and even despite the situation, she can’t help but marvel at it. It’s a full scale, highly detailed 3D model, but it’s just made out of light. It seems like it should be impossible, but this is what Stark can create, and what Peter is learning to do.

“Can you show me underneath, Peter?”

“I feel like I shouldn’t move it. In movies it always goes off if you move it. Oh, man, I didn’t even bring a juice box.”

“Why would you need a juice box?” Happy asks, “You know what, I don’t want to know. I need a better look at the detonator. Lift the whole thing up very, very carefully and get the drone under there. Try not to move any wires and if you feel any resistance put it back down immediately.”

“On that old TV show Chuck from like, ten years ago, they disarmed a bomb with a juice box,” Peter says, with way too much levity for the situation he’s in. Monica can only assume talking about old TV shows helps him calm down. He takes a deep breath. “Come on, Peter. OK, lifting it up. Droney, get under there.”

The hologram changes to present a different view of the bomb, this one from underneath. It looks different to what she’s seen in movies, a series of metal chambers with a timer attached and very few access points.

“There’s some kind of liquid in it, Happy,” Peter says, “I could hear it sloshing. He probably made it in the R&D lab, I bet there’s a ton of explosive chemicals in there. If I had time I could get it there and analyse it, but we’ve got like, two and a half minutes. Should I get Droney to sample it?”

“No, don’t mess with it, Pete. The bomb disposal unit can do that. All you have to do is disable the detonator, disconnect it, stabilise the chambers, and get as far away as possible.”

“Copy that, 10-4,” Peter answers, “How do I disable the detonator?”

Happy spins the hologram to look closely at the detonator. “See that thing that looks like a jar lid? That’s connected to a switch which will close when the timer goes off, causing a mini-explosion that will ignite the liquid explosives. You need to make sure the connection can’t close. Can you pull the timer away from the rest of it at all?”

Peter’s hands appear in the hologram, delicately pulling the timer away from the metal chamber so it dangles from a series of colourful wires. “Now what?”

“Now follow the wires to see which is connected to the switch that connects to the detonator.”

Peter’s fingers gently trace the wires. “I think it’s the black one.”

“You think?”

“It’s definitely the black one.”

Happy follows Peter’s fingers on the hologram. “OK, break the connection. Try to not jostle anything.”

Maybe Peter’s got some kind of tool Monica can’t see on the video feed, but it looks like Peter simply pulls gently at the black wire and it breaks in two. That can’t be right, though. She’s done calculations on the tensile strength of wire and the amount of force needed to break it it far too high. The numbers on the timer blink out and Peter lets out a relieved whoop. “Yes! Now what?”

“You’ve got the timer off, but the detonator is still functional,” Happy says, “We’re not out of the woods yet, kid. But you can take your time, now. So, you need to pull the jar lid off…”

“Where’s Peter?”

Monica jumps, suddenly aware that the sounds of the fight down the hallway have stopped. Tony Stark is standing in the doorway, dishevelled but uninjured, face barely visible in the glow of the hologram.

“Oh, hey Mr Stark!” Peter exclaims, “Did you win?”

“Didn’t even have to put on the suit, kid,” Tony Stark tells him, “Webbed him up with Spidey’s new shooter. Lordy, those things are fun.”

“There’s new web shooters? That’s awesome, Mr Stark! Anyway, I can’t talk right now, I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“In the middle of what?” Mr Stark asks suspiciously, walking over to spin the floating image of the bomb. “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.”

“I just have to finish disarming this bomb and then tell Ms Potts you want to know if she wants pineapple on her pizza. I am freaking out, what should I say to her? Should I introduce myself or does she know who I am? No of course she doesn’t know who I am, that’s stupid. I’m pretty sure you don’t sit around at home talking about me.”

“OK, back up to the disarming the bomb thing,” Tony Stark says, “Because I think I heard you say that, but I clearly remember telling you not to do anything stupid.”

“I wasn’t looking for it!” Peter insists. Monica’s starting to think he’s protesting too much. And why does everyone assume Peter would look for a bomb? She’s taught him for several years and he’s never done anything at school to suggest he’d deliberately seek out a dangerous situation. “I just found it and then there wasn’t time to do anything else! OK, Happy, I’ve got the jar lid off. What now?”

“We’re going to have a serious talk about this later, kid,” Tony Stark says firmly, “Careful now, Pete.”

Monica watches as Happy talks Peter through disconnecting and removing the detonator. The hologram shuts off after he breaks the wire and pulls the detonator away from the main body of the bomb. There’s some rustling and a light thwap noise. “I’ve secured it to the wall,” Peter tells them. “Oh crap, now I have to interrupt Ms Potts’ meeting. She’s nice though, right? Not that scary.”

“She knows who you are, I showed her the video of you pretending to be Thor,” Mr Stark tells him, “Just keep me on the line and get that detonator into an explosion room first.”

“You showed her that? Mr Stark!”

Monica can’t see Tony Stark’s face in the absence of light from the hologram, but she suspects he’s smirking. She hears the crunch of a metal grate being moved.

“Wow,” whispers Peter, “It’s so weird, everyone’s just doing their jobs like nothing’s happened. Funny how people can not know what’s going on right over their heads.”

“Hey you,” Tony Stark says, “Pete’s teacher. Come with me, we need to get the lights back on and Friday back in action. Hap, he’s in the workshop, keep an eye on him, would you.” He picks Happy’s phone off the bench and turns to go, clearly expecting her to follow. She stands up, going woozy for a second and grasping the bench for support. Everyone is entirely too relaxed considering there’s still a bomb in the building and a fifteen-year-old carrying around a disconnected detonator.

Tony Stark leads the way to a large room filled with computers. One whole wall is covered in screens, while rows and rows of computer hardware fills the rest of the space. It should be humming, but the power is out. “I’m afraid I won’t be much help,” Monica says, “I’m a physicist, not a computer engineer.”

“Oh, you’re just here to hold the flashlight,” Mr Stark replies, and she mentally kicks herself. He’s Tony Stark, Iron Man and the head of innovation at Stark Industries. He’s a technological genius and a pioneer in the field of Artificial Intelligence. Clearly he’s not expecting her to fix his supercomputer.

“Hey, Mr Stark?” Peter’s voice comes from Happy’s phone. “Can you tell this lady I need to speak to Ms Potts? Apparently she’s having a meeting with the Japanese ambassador and doesn’t have time to talk to an intern, and her PA wants to see my ID.”

“Put me on speaker, kid,” Tony Stark says.

“Mr Stark?” The PA asks hesitantly, “I’m afraid I can’t let anyone in to see Ms Potts without identification. It’s a safety precaution. She’s currently in a meeting with the Japanese ambassador, so if your intern comes back with ID in an hour, Ms Potts should be able to spare him five minutes.”

“Peter doesn’t need ID,” Mr Stark informs her, “Let him in or you’re fired.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Stark, the meeting with the ambassador is very important, she told me not to let you interrupt her.”

“Peter, go past her.”

Monica hears quick footsteps and the PA protesting while Peter calls apologies to her, and then a door opening.

“What in the world is going on?” Pepper Potts sounds long-suffering. “I asked you not to let Tony interrupt.”

“Oh, hi Ms Potts,” Peter says, quickly, “It’s nice to meet you! Oh, uh, Mr Stark wants to know if you want pineapple on your pizza?”

“Tony told you to say that?”

“Here, he’s on the phone.”

“Hey, Pep. How’s the meeting going?” Tony Stark asks casually.

“Is there a pineapple situation?” Pepper asks briskly.

“The pineapple has been disabled but is still in the building,” Tony replies. “Friday’s down and we’re locked in my labs. The kid crawled through the vents. Oh, and there might be something going on with the fire exits, but the pineapple grower could be lying about that. He’s webbed up in my workshop.”

“Are you alright?” Pepper asks, “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m fine, but someone in HR’s getting fired. The guy’s an employee. Hey, listen, keep the kid with you, ok? Make sure he doesn’t come back up here on a totally unnecessary rescue mission. Happy’s got the guy covered and the kid’s teacher is helping me get Friday back up. I’ll see you later.”

“Ms Warren!” Peter exclaims, like he’s just remembered her, “Are you okay Ms Warren? Everything’s alright now. Mr Stark will look after you until I get back.”

Monica feels herself choking up a little. “I’m okay, Peter.”

“No, Peter,” Tony Stark says, “I need you to look after Pepper for me, okay? I need you to do that. Stay with her and make sure nothing happens to her, got it?”

“Okay, Mr Stark.”

“We’ve got dinner reservations for eight, make sure she makes it.”

Tony Stark ends the call, turning back to Monica. “Shine the light on that circuit box, would you? I need to be out of here and changed for dinner in like, an hour and a half, tops.”

***

Tony Stark gets the power back on and the doors unlocked in less than twenty minutes.

He’s still frowning at a computer screen when Happy comes to take her home, but he says distractedly, “Do I need to sign something?”

“What for?” Monica asks.

He looks up at her. “Peter’s internship.”

Oh. She’d nearly forgotten that was why she was here to begin with. “I think we’ll leave it for today. I’ll write up some notes on what he’s been doing.”

“He’s a good kid. He needs this.”

“Does he know?” She asks him.

“Know what?” Tony Stark asks. He’s already turned back to the screen.

“You’re not training him to work in the R&D department, are you?”

Iron Man is a guy in a suit. It could be anyone. Nobody would know if it wasn’t Tony Stark in there. Tony Stark is in his late forties. That’s old, for a superhero. He’s saved the world again and again, for the last decade. He looks tired. But the world needs Iron Man, so there needs to be a guy in the suit. It can’t just be anyone in the suit, though. Iron Man needs nerves of steel. He needs to be fit and strong and brave. He needs to be good, and trustworthy, and selfless. He needs to be clever. And if necessary, he needs to be able to act without the suit.

“Oh, he’ll be doing that too.”

“You’re training him to be you.”

Tony Stark turns suddenly, looking her right in the eye. She has to fight not to take a step back. “I’m training him to be better than me.”

“He’s fifteen! He shouldn’t be disarming bombs!”

“Exactly. Imagine how badly that would have gone if Happy hadn’t been there. If he hadn’t had my tech.”

“He wouldn’t have had to do it at all!”

Tony Stark raises his eyebrow. “Are we talking about the same person? The first I saw of Peter was a video of him stopping a bus crash by jumping in front of it in his pyjamas. He would have found a way to spend the afternoon disarming a bomb regardless.”

“He did what?”

“You know what? Forget I said anything.”

“Did you say he deliberately jumped in front of a bus? Does his aunt know about this?”

“See, what I’m really doing here is keeping the kid out of trouble. I tried stopping him, took the suit away and everything. It didn’t go so well. But if he learns how everything works and what his limits are, learns to use his powers properly, sticks close to the ground, that’s when he’ll be safest. And the more I can get him in here, doing science, the less likely he is to be off sticking himself to the sides of planes or climbing the Washington Monument or hitting pieces of alien tech with a hammer.”

“I’m sorry, did you say he stuck himself to a plane? What do you mean powers?

“Powers - you know, super strength, agility, crazy good senses, sudden gymnastics skills. Not the webs, though, he made those himself.”

“You can’t tell anyone this,” Happy interrupts, “This is highly confidential.”

“Peter’s the Spider-Man?” Monica thinks about the footage of Spider-Man desperately trying to hold a sinking ferry together, his body straining like he’s about to break apart. It’s wrong for a kid so young to be in that position.

“We do our best to look after him,” Mr Stark says, “If this gets out, it will ruin his life. He’s a smart kid, he’s got a good future ahead of him.”

The if he survives hangs silently in the air as Tony Stark turns back to his screens.

Happy takes her downstairs, ushering her back into the car she’d arrived in. He collects her phone and briefcase from the locker where they had been stored and hands them back to her before getting in to drive her home. She texts her brother immediately, telling him she’s coming round for the night.

In front of the building, hundreds of Stark Industries employees are gathered, along with emergency services. There’s a black, armoured vehicle and people in thick, kevlar suits. There’s an ambulance on standby and dozens of police. She spots Pepper Potts, speaking with a detective. Peter is standing beside her, vigilantly scanning the crowd. He looks calm and unharmed. Nobody looking at him would know he’d disabled a bomb less than an hour ago. He doesn’t look like he has superpowers. He looks more athletic than she remembers him being, and his shoulders are squarer than they are at school, but he’s still small. Still fifteen. A kid who should be playing in the marching band, or going to the movies with his friends.

Happy shows his ID to a security guard to get through the roadblock and takes her home, waiting in the car while she collects some things, and then takes her to her brother’s. He’s not chatty, but he seems like a good guy. When he pulls up outside her brother’s apartment building, he turns to her. “Peter’s gonna be fine,” he says, “Our kid’s good under pressure. Resourceful. He did a good job today.”

Monica goes upstairs and hugs her nephew tightly.

***

Monica’s back at school on Monday, like nothing’s happened. The official media line is that there was a bomb scare at Stark Industries. One disgruntled employee made a bomb threat and attempted to steal tech from the building. He was caught and arrested. Tony Stark was upstate at the Avengers Compound, as he always is on Fridays. No one was hurt. Nothing is mentioned about the very real bomb or the teenage boy who crawled through the vents and disarmed it. There are a few shots of Pepper, with Peter standing in the background, but he’s not identified. No mention is made of a high school physics teacher watching an asset manager talk her student through disabling a detonator.

“So, who here knows how a pendulum works?” she asks the class, as Peter runs in two minutes after the bell, dropping into the seat beside Ned. “Yes, Flash?”

She looks at her class with different eyes, more appreciative of her students. An idea had struck her over the weekend, for a sort of applied physics club, teaching science skills for survival. She’ll need to take it to the Principal, sort out the details, but it should be good once she gets it going. Apparently Principal Morita had announced a new physics teacher at the meeting on Friday, so she should have time. She’ll keep up with the internship program, too. Pay closer attention from now on. Make sure no one looks too closely at Peter’s.

Peter comes to her desk after class. “Hey Ms Warren. Are you alright? That was pretty scary on Friday, right?”

He’s the first person to ask her that. His eyes are big and earnest. She wants to wrap him in cotton wool and put him in a box where he won’t get hurt.

“I’m alright. Are you? That must have been a very stressful situation for you.”

Peter gives her a little grin. “It was kind of fun, actually. Like high-stakes robotics club.”

The concerning thing is that she believes him.  

THE END