Chapter 4
Peter was nervous for his first day at Stark Industries.
He’d spent hours the week before the internship started, looking through the meager amount of clothes he owned, cursing himself when they all seemed too casual. He didn’t own a single pair of dress pants or even a nice shirt.
Eventually, he decided on what he usually wore to school, seeing that it was really his only option other than pajamas. He was not about to wear pajamas to see Tony Stark in a professional environment.
Sawyer had woken him up from yet another nightmare, falling back to sleep once he was awake and had nodded to her that she was okay. Peter was always shaky after waking up, and after the first few, he realized that sign language and hand tremors don’t go along well.
After waking up, Peter got out of the squeaky bed and went to the bathroom. He sat in his usual corner, resting his head against the cold tile wall beside the sink. The fluorescent lights flickered just fast enough to be really noticeable in the empty room.
He glanced at the clock on the wall, internally groaning when he read the time. 4:36. Better than his usual time, but he didn’t have to be at Stark Industries until 8:30.
From Peter’s position on the floor, he could just barely make out a couple of stars through the open window, despite the light pollution of the city. He stared at them, wondering if they were May and Ben, watching over him. Pushing that thought out of his head, he stood up.
Back in the bedroom, he quietly removed a floorboard beside his bed, setting it down gently in order to not wake up any of the other kids. Reaching into the hole it left, he pulled out his art journal and graphite pencils.
Walking back down the hallway in the dark, Peter thought about how he ended up here. His mind was filled with what ifs and should haves, even though he knew better than to go down that path.
Before he knew it, he was back in the bathroom, his body set on autopilot after so many nights of repeating the same trip over and over again.
Peter flipped slowly through the journal, analyzing the images that he’d drawn in the nights before. Most of them were dark, some smudged and faded. At first, he had only drawn May and Ben, but gradually, they were replaced by darker images, fabricated by his subconscious while he slept.
Tonight, his pencils danced across a new page, creating May’s face from his nightmare. When the outline of the dream was finished, he paused, leaning his head against the wall once more. The two stars had faded with the glow of the city. Peter felt alive in that moment, breathing in the night air from the propped open window.
He completed filling in the details, closing the journal and tucking it into his side. Peter stood up from the tight corner where he’d been sitting, stretching to wake his muscles up. After replacing his book, he sat on his bed and pulled out homework, figuring he might as well be productive.
A few hours later, Peter found himself standing at the doors of the old Avengers Facility. A sign sat in the doorway, saying something about new management. He sighed in frustration, running his hand through his unruly curls.
Behind him, a horn sounded. He turned to see an expensive car with the window down. “Hey kid, you Stark’s recruit? I’m here to take you upstate.” When Peter didn’t move, the man driving said, “Are you or are you not Stark’s recruit?” He nodded, pulling himself out of his stupor. “Get in then, we don’t have all day.”
He got in, marveling at the amount of leg room the vehicle had as he put his backpack on the seat next to him and buckled up. The man in the front rolled down the window between the front seats and the back as he pulled onto the road. “I’m Happy, Tony’s personal driver. He said your name was Peter, right?” Peter nodded, meeting Happy’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
Peter stared out the window, an awkward silence falling between the two. He watched the familiar buildings go by as they drove down the streets of Queens.
All of a sudden, he realized where they were. He frantically tapped on Happy’s shoulder, tears threatening to break past his eyes. “What, kid, I’m trying to drive.” Peter had to draw his hand back suddenly, as Happy had put the barrier back up.
He sat on the edge of his seat, tense as a live wire, trying to sense for any cars coming, anything that was abnormal. His spider sense was unusually quiet, making Peter even more nervous. His quick breaths drowned out any other noises, and he closed his eyes, concentrating.
They drove through the intersection that he tried so hard to avoid without incident.
When they finally made it to their destination, Peter stared out the window in awe as they rounded the entrance road. The gravel crunched underneath his feet as he stepped out of the car, taking in the buildings and the landscape around him.
“Come on, kid, Tony’s waiting.”
Inside, the room was spacious, with large windows letting in ample natural light. Happy led Peter towards an elevator across the way, their footsteps echoing through the room. “Hey, FRIDAY.”
“Hello, Happy.” Peter jumped at the voice from the ceiling, looking up to see a speaker embedded in the material.
“That’s FRIDAY, Tony’s AI. She monitors the building and keeps the area safe. Keeps Tony safe as well,” Happy explained.
“What is your name?” FRIDAY asked, directed at Peter.
I’m Peter, Peter Parker, he signed, hoping that the elevator had a camera so she could see him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Peter,” the AI said, almost warmly. He sighed in relief, glancing at Happy. He was making a strange face, before understanding dawned on him.
“Well, that explains why you’re so quiet.” The elevator dinged, the door opening to the loud thump of hard rock through glass walls. Peter braced himself as Happy waved a badge at access port, leading him through the door.
The sound was deafening to Peter’s enhanced senses, causing him to double over from the headache the music instantly created. He closed his eyes and plugged his ears, to no avail. In a last effort, he focused on his breathing as much as possible, vaguely noting that Happy was trying to get Mr. Stark’s attention.
After a few moments of roaring chords, the mechanic finally stopped what he was working on, looking at the pair who had just entered. “Happy, what’s wrong with him?” Mr. Stark asked loudly, noticing Peter’s reaction.
“I don’t know, he was fine in the elevator.”
“Kid, what’s wrong?”
Everything’s too loud, the boy signed, his eyes still closed, his hands shaky.
“Shit, I mean, shoot, FRIDAY, turn volume down to thirty percent.” The sound faded and Peter opened his eyes, able to focus again, despite a slight ringing in his ears. “You okay now?” Mr. Stark asked, resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He nodded, tensing under the touch before relaxing into it. “Alright, Happy, thanks for bringing him. I’ll let you know when he’s got to go home, mkay? Great,” he said, shooing the chauffeur out of the room.
Once they were alone, Mr. Stark turned to the teenager. “You ready to get started, kiddo? Let’s see what you got.” Peter obliged, setting down his backpack and pulling out the suit. The older man grabbed it, bringing it over to one of his worktables before beginning to inspect it, before moving around the lab, collecting various materials.
After a few moments of searching, Mr. Stark spoke. “So, I was wondering, who all knows about this whole ‘Spiderman’ thing?” he asked, watching Peter’s reactions.
Just a few of my friends.
“The Ned kid?” Peter nodded as he watched the older man carry a sewing machine over.
“Y’know what I think is really cool,” the mechanic said, setting a bundle of fabric on the table. “This webbing.” He picked up a container that was sitting on the bench, before pointing it at the teenager and launching it. Peter, who was looking around at the machinery in the lab, caught it, not even glancing in Mr. Stark’s direction. “That tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?”
I did.
“Climbing walls, how you doing that? Adhesive gloves?” Mr. Stark asked.
Peter grimaced. It’s a long story.
“Alright, you ready to get started? You’ve got everything you should need over here, let me know if you need anything else, alright kiddo?” He nodded, looking at the pile of fabric, wiring, and other things to make his own suit. Mr. Stark went back to inspecting his old suit, holding the goggles up to his face. “Lordy, can you even see in these?”
Yes, I can, I can see in those, okay? Peter signed, taking the cotton bundle out of the mechanic’s hands. It's just that when whatever happened, happened...it's like my senses sometimes get dialled to 11.
“That’s what happened earlier? With the music?” He blushed slightly, nodding. “I’ll keep it quieter for you. Don’t want the spiderling going deaf, eh?” Peter ducked his head at the nickname, blushing even harder.
Thank you, he motioned to Mr. Stark.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s not a big deal. I want to see what you come up with, alright? I’ll be working on my suit over there if you need anything else.”
Alright, Peter responded, turning to the table of material, ready to get started.