The Field Trip

Peter was only mildly surprised to find Hill waiting for him in the kitchen the next morning, a warm bowl of oatmeal on the table. He’d had a sinking suspicion that they were being serious about accompanying him to and from school; he was proved correct. He sat down, shoveling oatmeal into his mouth with a muffled “fanks!” before nearly spitting it back out, having forgotten to check if it was cool enough to eat. His tongue felt like it’d been boiled, and his eyes watered copiously. Hill patted his head, trying to hide her amusement.

“Ow,” Peter mumbled, sucking air in through his mouth in attempt to cool his tongue.

“Good morning,” Hill said pleasantly, and Peter groaned.

“I’m thuffering.”

“Thorry,” Hill replied, her eyes twinkling. Peter pouted at her, stirring his oatmeal slowly.

“Where’s yours?” he asked after scooping another spoonful and blowing on it.

“I already ate mine,” said Hill. Peter stared.

“How?”

Hill shrugged. “Magic.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, and she laughed.

“I put mine in the freezer to cool it down.”

“I feel so betrayed.”

Hill patted his shoulder. “Eat. We leave in ten.”

Peter blew on his spoonful of oatmeal again, looked at it suspiciously, then ate it, relieved to find it agreeably warm.

“Work around the edges,” Hill told him. “They cool the fastest.”

“Huh. Smart,” Peter said. He scraped spoonfuls from the perimeter of his bowl, gulping them down quickly and succeeding in not burning his tongue again. He finished exactly ten minutes later, and placed his bowl in the sink before trotting after Hill to the elevator.

The air was brisk as they stepped out of the lobby; Pete shoved his hands in his pockets. Hill was wearing a light jacket, presumably having checked the weather before leaving. Peter should be more like her, he thought.

“What’s your first class?” she asked.

“Today’s Tuesday… Math.”

Hill nodded. “What are you guys working on?”

“Just logarithms and stuff. It’s really easy as long as you know the properties.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s alright,” Peter said, shrugging. “Sort of boring.”

“Because it’s too easy?” asked Hill.

“Yeah,” Peter replied, slightly hesitant. “I mean… I think I could’ve taken Calculus this year, but I’d have to test out of Precalc and I was sort of too lazy to do that. Or, well, I just didn’t really want to. I would’ve had to talk to the head of the department, and she’s scary. I don’t think she likes me.”

Hill narrowed her eyes.

“Oh god, now you have that avenging look on your face, which I guess is appropriate given your occupation, but please don’t talk to the department head! It’s fine. I’ll take Calculus next year.”

Hill continued to look offended on Peter’s behalf.

“Really, it’s fine,” said Peter, almost begging, and Hill relented.

“Fine” she said. “But if she gives you trouble…”

“I know. Tell you. I promise, it’s fine.”

Hill looked only slightly appeased, but soon resettled her expression into a warmer one. “Who’s your favorite teacher?”

“My history teacher is really nice,” Peter said after considering. “History isn’t my favorite, but he’s cool guy. My English teacher is pretty considerate, too.”

“That’s good. It’s really too bad that your chemistry teacher isn’t great. I know you love science.”

Peter nodded. “Next year, when I take physics, I should get a better one.”

“I hope so,” said Hill. She stopped them, looked both ways, then tugged Peter across the street to the concrete steps in front of his school. “Here you are. Walking with me wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No,” Peter said grudgingly. Hill pulled him in for a quick hug, and he flailed.

“I take that back! This is terrible.”

Hill ruffled his hair fondly. “Have a good day.”

Peter grumbled, fixing his hair and straightening his shirt. He noticed a few kids watching them and resisted the urge to hide behind his hands.

“Thanks for walking with me. It was nice,” he admitted, looking at his feet. Hill grinned.

“I expect you’ll see Steve later.”

“Steve!” Peter squeaked. “Oh my god! I thought this was just a Hair Club thing! Everyone’s gonna stare at me!”

“You’ll live,” Hill said, and left before he could protest further. He resigned himself to climbing the steps and entering the school, dodging a bouncy ball that some kids were hurling around as he made his way to math. He managed to avoid Flash by ducking into an empty classroom for a minute; he wasn’t sure if he’d be so lucky later.

----

He wasn’t so lucky. He was just passing the gym after the last bell rang when Flash and his gang caught up to him.

“Hey Penis!”

Peter pressed his lips together, pushing through the throngs of kids and heading for the front door. Flash followed. The crowds thinned as they got outside, yet Peter found himself sandwiched between Flash and some kid that was maybe called Joe.

“What was with the lady walking you to school today? Did you pay her, too?”

“She’s my friend,” Peter gritted out. Flash laughed.

“No way. Did you give her ten? Twenty?”

“Peter!” someone called, and Peter wanted to disappear at the sight of Captain Goddamn America waving his hands frantically to catch Peter’s attention. Flash froze, and Peter wiggled out from between him and Joe. Peter hurried over, giving Steve the universal throat-slashing gesture of ‘cut it out,’ but the damage was done. Everyone, literally everyone was staring. Steve seemed to be either oblivious or ignoring it, because he grinned widely and tossed an arm over Peter’s shoulders.

“How was school, buddy?”

“Fine,” Peter whispered, mortified. He let Steve steer him out of the crowd and across the street, where few people attempted to follow them.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked, concerned after glancing down at Peter, who ceded to the urge to hide and buried his face in his hands.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered. “Nobody will leave me alone again.”

Steve frowned, his brain clicking, and then pulled a face like a distraught puppy. “I didn’t even think about that, I’m sorry, Peter. I can go tell them-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Peter said hurriedly. “I’ll deal with it. I’ll just ignore them.”

“I forgot about the unwanted attention. Gosh, I’m dense.”

“No you’re not,” said Peter, and Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe just a little bit? In certain situations?”

Steve laughed. “Subtlety’s never been my strong suit.”

“No,” Peter agreed. As they slipped into light conversation, Peter found that Steve’s arm was still draped over his shoulders. It was nice, he decided. It made him feel like he belonged somewhere. Like he had friends.

----

The next morning, Peter was slightly more surprised to find Bruce sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading a paper beside a wide variety of cereals. He looked up when Peter entered and smiled wryly.

“I’m not much of cook compared to some of the others. I hope you don’t mind cereal,” he said.

“Oh, cereal’s great, it’s fine,” Peter replied quickly. “I usually just eat Froot Loops for breakfast.”

Bruce looked faintly relieved. He yawned and took another gulp of coffee. “You really get up this early every day?”

“I’m used to it,” Peter answered, pouring some cereal into a bowl.

Bruce nodded. He looked like he hadn’t slept much at all.

“You really didn’t have to get up just to walk me to school. I’m fine on my own,” said Peter, feeling slightly guilty.

“Natasha said it would be good for me, going outside, getting some exercise. I figured I’d listen to her. I wouldn’t have slept much longer anyway,” Bruce told him. “Coffee’s my best friend.”

“Same,” Peter said. “Is there any extra?”

Bruce nodded to the half-full coffee pot on the counter. “Go for it.”

Peter smiled in thanks, getting up and pulling a mug from the cabinet above the sink, filling it three-quarters full with coffee. He opened the fridge and grabbed the milk, pouring some in his coffee and some in his cereal. He plopped down again in the seat next to
Bruce, taking a swig of coffee and a large mouthful of cereal.

“Mmm.”

“I’d suggest you eat quickly, Mr. Parker. You are due to leave for school in five minutes,” said JARVIS, and Peter picked up the pace.

Bruce looked vaguely perturbed, as if he was worried that Peter might choke.

“Maybe slow down a little bit?”

“Th’fine,” Peter replied around his Froot Loops. “Thith ith normal.”

Bruce nodded slowly and went back to reading, sipping at his coffee. Peter finished his cereal in record time and dumped his bowl in
the sink, shoving his feet in his shoes and scooping up his backpack. Bruce tailed him into the elevator, his expression thoughtful.

“What’s up?” Peter asked, tilting his head as they descended.

“I just can’t remember the last time I went outside. Not counting emergencies, I mean. Natasha was right, I really don’t get out much.”

“How come?”

Bruce shrugged. “Too busy. And no real reason to leave the lab, I suppose. It’s nice, doing something different.”

“Do you like being outside?” asked Peter, curious, as they stepped out of the elevator and made their way out of the lobby. Bruce took in a deep breath of morning city air, looking pensive.

“I think so. Do you?”

“Yeah, I like exploring. Patrol is fun ‘cause it’s exhilarating, but sometimes I just like to walk.”

“That sounds nice,” Bruce said, looking around and taking in the cars whizzing by and the waxing and waning crowds on the sidewalks.

He let out a short laugh. “I forget that all this exists, sometimes.”

Peter nodded. “I can see that happening.”

They were silent for a couple minutes, and then Bruce spoke.

“Do you like school?”

Peter made a face. “I guess… sort of. I like to learn, but the people suck.”

“I had a similar mindset at your age. Well, I still do,” Bruce amended. “But people suck less as you get older, generally.”

“Sounds nice,” Peter sighed. “I love science, but my chemistry teacher doesn’t like me. He’s annoying.”

“Why wouldn’t he like you?” Bruce asked, frowning.

“I don’t pay attention sometimes. The class is really easy.”

“Is it? What are you working on?”

“Right now? Stoichiometry and percent yield. It’s just plugging in numbers. Boring.”

“Sounds like it. You should stop by the lab more often. We’re doing a biochemistry project that you might find interesting.”

Peter brightened. “Really?”

“Of course. We’re working on synthesizing cells. Pretty neat,” Bruce said, rubbing the back of his neck modestly.

“Cool! Maybe I’ll come by later.”

They crossed the street, approaching Peter’s school. They’d walked quickly; kids were still hanging out in groups outside the doors, the bell not having rung yet.

“Hey Penis! Who’s your friend?” Flash shouted, and Peter sighed. Bruce looked at him, his brow furrowing deeply, then dropping low.

“Did that kid just call you Penis?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s fine. You should probably go.”

“Peeeenis! I asked you a question!”

Peter firmly ignored him in lieu of trying to wave Bruce away.

“Parker! How many dicks did you suck to get the fancy bodyguards?”

Bruce’s eyes flashed a dangerous green, and Peter quickly dragged him across the road.

“It’s fine, Bruce. It’s fine,” Peter repeated, keeping his voice low and steady, because Bruce looked furious.

“That’s not fine,” Bruce said shortly, his fists balling and slackening.

“It’s normal. It’s doesn’t bother me, I swear.”

Bruce clearly didn’t believe him; his eyes had lost their radioactive color and were now simply dark with anger, though his control
seemed intact, thank god.

“They really just say things like that? Is this normal?”

“It’s fine, I swear. It doesn’t really bother me.”

“Bullshit. The kid just fu- just flipping asked if you…” Bruce shook his head sharply. “Don’t tell me that doesn’t bother you.”

“Maybe a little, but it’s really not a big deal,” Peter said, attempting earnest.

“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t walk across the road straight into the principal’s office and report the kid.”

Peter’s face fell. “Bruce, you can’t. Please. It would just make it worse.”

Bruce closed his eyes, then sighed, crumbling slightly.

“Fine. Just… What’s the kid’s name?”

“Flash,” Peter said, and Bruce gave him a look.

“His full name.”

“Eugene Thompson,” Peter relented. He picked up on the faint sound of the bell, and glanced across the street to see the crowds thinning as everyone headed into the school. Bruce followed his gaze.

“That’s your cue, I suppose.”

Peter nodded. “Thanks for walking with me. It was fun.”

Bruce’s cheeks pinkened slightly, like he wasn’t used to people enjoying his presence. That should be fixed, Peter thought briefly to himself.

“Have a good day. I think Pepper’s picking you up,” said Bruce.

“You too,” Peter said, smiling, and darted across the street. When he glanced back as he pulled the door open, Bruce was still standing there, watching.

----

Flash caught up to him after school, as usual. Peter didn’t bother trying to escape this time.

“Who was the bodyguard this morning, Parker? He didn’t look as tough as the others. Big downgrade from Captain America, huh? Did you run out of money, or did your jaw get sore?”

“Piss off, Flash,” Peter sighed, gripping the straps of his backpack.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Penis. I was just asking, no need to get unfriendly.”

Peter didn’t reply, exhaling as he pushed his way through the door into the sunlight. Flash dogged him, giving him a jab in the ribs.

“No Captain America today? How are you gonna get attention now?”

“I don’t want attention.”

Flash laughed. “Yeah, right. Why else would you hire him to pick you up from school?”

“I didn’t hire him,” Peter said, his voice strained. He let out a breath of relief when he caught sight of Pepper waiting on the sidewalk. He strode forward to meet her, fast enough to leave Flash a few steps behind him. She smiled fondly at the sight of him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“How was school?”

Peter shrugged, internally glowing with warmth like he always did when Pepper treated him like her son.

“It was alright,” he replied. He could feel Flash’s eyes on the back of his neck. Pepper nodded.

“I was thinking we could stop and get some cheese on the way home? There’s a new farmers’ market that I want to check out, and we can never get enough cheese, or so says Barnes.”

“Sounds good to me,” Peter replied, following Pepper away from the throngs of teenagers down the sidewalk. No snarky comments followed him; he guessed that Flash still didn’t know what to make of Pepper.

“Peter,” said Pepper once they were a block away, and Peter’s heart sank. She sounded serious.

“Yeah?” he replied nervously.

“Bruce told me something that I didn’t like to hear this morning.”

“Did he?” Peter squeaked, trying to feign surprise.

“Please don’t play dumb with me. It’s not okay for your peers to suggest that you’re performing sexual favors in exchange for us to be around you. It is not okay. Ah, don’t argue. I’m not done. It’s highly inappropriate, and it can’t be good for you, no matter how much you insist it’s fine. I won’t tolerate behavior like that, even if you will. I can’t hear about this and not do something about it, so you have a choice. Either we go in early and talk to the principal tomorrow morning, or I let Tony or Steve do something about it.”

Peter shook his head, looking unusually pale. “I really don’t like either of those options.”

“We could homeschool you, then. Transfer you, maybe.”

Peter rubbed his forehead, where a sharp ache was developing. “Pepper…”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I can’t stand by while you’re harassed.”

Peter let out an unsteady breath, and Pepper stopped walking and pulled him into a tight hug. He dropped his head onto her shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of perfume and laundry detergent. He could feel people pushing past them, making sounds of annoyance for stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Pepper was probably giving them all glares of death, anyway. After a long minute, Pepper stepped back, her hands on his shoulders.

“It’ll be alright,” she told him, and he wanted more than anything to believe her.

----

He didn’t expect Bucky and Bruce to be waiting for him when he stepped off the elevator towards his room, but there they were; their expressions were an almost comical contrast. Bucky looked livid, and Bruce apologetic. When Bucky strode forward, Peter was almost afraid, except he was being tightly wrapped in Bucky’s arms and pulled against his chest.

“How fucking dare he insinuate… I’m gonna fucking-” Bucky cut himself off, clearly still seething. Peter tilted his head to glance at Bruce, who lifted his hands.

“I didn’t tell him,” he said. “He bugged your backpack.”

Peter wiggled a bit, looking up at Bucky.

“You bugged my backpack?”

Bucky was still wearing a fierce expression. “Mission is protect. You know that.”

“I guess so… Did you just bug my backpack, or…?”

“Your jacket, too,” Bucky said, not looking guilty in the least.

“Which jacket?” Peter asked.

“All of them,” Bucky replied, as if it was obvious, and released Peter reluctantly.

“Sorry about-” Bruce waved his hand, “all this. In my defense, I said I wouldn’t tell your principal, but I didn’t promise anything about not telling anyone else, and I thought that Pepper should know as one of your legal guardians…”

“It’s fine,” Peter sighed. “She would’ve found out anyway, since someone bugged my backpack.”

“And your jackets,” Bucky said.

“And my jackets.”

----

Pepper and Peter set off early the next morning, making it to school fifteen minutes before the bell. Pepper’s hand rested firmly on Peter’s shoulder as they stepped into the waiting room outside the principal’s office. The secretary looked up at them.

“Can I help you?”

“I’d like to address some concerns. Is the principal available?”

“He is,” said the secretary, getting up and pushing the office door open. She said something and withdrew, waving Peter and Pepper towards the door. They stepped inside and took a seat across from the principal’s desk.

“What can I do for you?” the principal asked.

“Peter is being harassed by another student, and I’d like to put an end to it.”

“How long has this been going on? I’ve never gotten any reports of it.”

Pepper turned to Peter and nudged his arm. He shrugged.

“Years. Since middle school.”

“Why haven’t you reported anything, Mr. Parker?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was hoping they’d stop if I didn’t do anything about it.”

“I see. I assume that hasn’t worked out for you?”

“No.” Peter hesitated. “It’s gotten worse.”

“Did anything happen to cause that?”

“Sort of. I mean… Ever since the field trip to Stark Tower, they’ve been bothering me more.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, I… I live there, and people know me, and I think people were just curious at first, but then they started… implying things.”

“Like what?” the principal prompted. Peter bit his lip and looked to Pepper, his eyes pleading.

“People have suggested that Peter performs sexual favors for and pays the residents of the tower to be around him. I find that absolutely unacceptable,” said Pepper. “You understand.”

“Certainly, I…” the principal trailed off, slightly shocked. “That’s not acceptable at all. Which student said that?”

“Eugene Thompson,” Pepper replied, and the principal winced.

“I was afraid of that. I’m completely on your side, but the Thompsons have a considerable amount of money and good lawyers. It’ll be hard to do anything without evidence.”

“We have evidence.” Pepper held up a flashdrive*, which the principal took, frowning slightly.

“Are they videos? It’s against school policy to film other students without their consent…”

Pepper shook her head. “Our family takes security very seriously. Peter’s backpack has listening equipment installed in it to ensure his safety. Since New York has a one-party consent wiretapping law, the audio recordings were obtained legally, though Mr. Thompson’s lawyers are welcome to debate with ours.”

“I see,” the principal said weakly. “Well, hopefully it doesn’t come to legal action. Why don’t I call Mr. Thompson into the office?”

“That would be lovely,” said Pepper. The principal got up and slipped out of the office, and a few moments later, the loudspeaker crackled.

“Could Eugene Thompson please make his way to the main office? Eugene Thompson to the main office.”

It was less than three minutes before something twitched in the back of Peter’s head and Flash followed the principal into the office.

“Please sit, Mr. Thompson.”

Flash sat, looking like he was tasting something rotten.

“I’ve just been informed that you’ve been saying that Mr. Parker performs sexual favors in exchange for certain people to spend time with him. That’s completely unacceptable behavior, and I won’t tolerate it in this school. This is your only warning. Please stop making such implications, or you will face the consequences of your actions.”

Flash curled his lip. “Parker’s lying. You don’t have any proof.”

Pepper’s face lit up. “I think you’ll find yourself wrong, Eugene.”

For the first time, Flash looked slightly nervous. He watched the principal plug the flashdrive into his computer, then click on the first file.

“Parker! How much did you pay the Black Widow to do that?”

“I didn’t pay her.”

“Yeah, I forgot. You can’t afford her. How did you do it, then?”

The principal clicked the second one.

”What was with the lady walking you to school today? Did you pay her, too?”

The third.

”You must really want attention, Parker. Either that, or you’re really gay.”

The fourth.

“Parker! How many dicks did you suck to get the fancy bodyguards?”

The fifth.

”Whose dick do you even suck, anyway? Their managers? Or do you suck dick for money and use the money to pay them?”

The sixth.

”Who was the bodyguard this morning, Parker? He didn’t look as tough as the others. Big downgrade from Captain America, huh? Did you run out of money, or did your jaw get sore?”

Either that was the last one, or the principal had had enough, because he looked up at Flash and lifted an eyebrow. Flash shrank a little.

“We’re not afraid to take legal action,” Pepper said. “I’m sure your lawyers are nice, but so are ours.”

For once, Flash didn’t seem to have a response.

“You understand, then? This stops now,” the principal said. Flash nodded like it pained him. He didn’t look at Peter. “Off you go, then.”

Flash jumped to his feet and scurried away, pulling out his phone as he went, presumably to call his dad.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” the principal asked.

“Yes, actually. I was wondering if it would be possible to switch Peter into a different chemistry class? He shares it with Mr. Thompson, and I think it’d really be best if they stayed separate.”

“I can definitely do that. Are there any other classes you have together?”

“Gym,” Peter said. “But it’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s an easy fix,” the principal told him. “You’d just have a different study hall.”

“Alright,” said Peter. “That would sort of be good.”

The principal clicked away at his computer, muttering to himself. The keyboard clattered as he typed.

“Okay… you should be all set,” he finally said, looking up again. “I’ll have Donna print you a schedule, does that sound good?”

Peter nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Please don’t hesitate to tell me if there’s anything else I can do, or if there’s any further incidents.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” Pepper said, shooting the principal a winning smile. “I really appreciate your time and care.”

“It’s no problem,” said the principal, slightly pink-cheeked. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

Pepper stood up and marched out, Peter on her tail. Once in the hall, she turned and pressed a kiss to his head.

“You have a good day, alright? I believe Barnes and Nat are planning on collecting you later.”

“Both of them?” Peter said weakly. Pepper laughed.

“The other kids won’t know what hit them. I’ll see you after school, Peter.”

“See you after school.”

Pepper smiled, squeezed his shoulder, then strode off towards the front doors, her heels clacking in the tile floor.

“Mr. Parker!”

Peter turned to find the secretary waving a paper at him.

“Here’s your new schedule.”

“Thanks,” said Peter, taking the sheet of paper. The secretary glanced around before speaking again.

“Your mom’s quite something,” she said under her breath. “I’ve been waiting a year to see that Thompson kid’s ass handed to him. He’s a pain in mine.”

Peter’s eyes widened, and he let out an involuntary sound that was almost a giggle. “She’s pretty cool.”

“Damn right,” the secretary muttered before straightening up and arranging her face to look the usual bored and slightly annoyed. “Get to class, Parker.”

Peter was fairly sure that he was dreaming as he made his way down the hall towards his English class. Had that really just happened?

Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe Loki had vanished him into an alternate universe. He pinched himself and winced slightly. He was definitely awake, though that didn’t answer the latter questions. The bell rang, and he jumped, picking up the pace. He didn’t want to get a tardy.

When he skidded into his English classroom, the teacher was nowhere to be seen. He sat down, looking around slowly in case he’d missed something. A minute later, a substitute teacher walked into the classroom, and the kids let out a collective cheer. Peter couldn’t believe it. For once, life seemed to be going his way.

(*FLASHdrive hahahaha get it?)

----

At the end of the day, Peter headed for the front doors, bracing himself for Flash to tail him. To his shock, he made it outside without a single “Penis!”. He turned around and found Flash positively glowering, but keeping his distance. Suddenly, Flash went pale, and Peter felt a metal arm being tossed over his shoulders. He smiled up at Bucky and Natasha.

“Hey, guys.”

“Hey,” Natasha said, her eyes firmly on Flash. Bucky twisted his face into a shark-like grin at the boy, and Natasha waved. Flash spun around and ran; Bucky made a content sound.

“How was your day,” he said, looking down at Peter.

“It was fine. Actually, pretty good.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Natasha. “Barnes made you cookies, but I have a strong suspicion that Clint’s eaten most of them by now.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “He better not have.”

“I think your expectations of him are too high,” Natasha said. Bucky grumbled, looking displeased.

“He is off the mission-assist list.”

“Ooh, that’s harsh,” said Natasha, her lips twitching. Bucky shrugged.

“Consequences.”

Peter snickered. Today was turning out to be a good day indeed.