Chapter Text
Before Flash can stammer out a response, the elevator dings, the doors sliding open to reveal the sleek, futuristic expanse of the intern labs.
“Alright, everyone,” Sara says brightly, stepping forward, “this is one of the coolest parts of Stark Industries—the intern labs. This program is one of the most competitive and highly sought-after internships in the world. Let’s take a look around!”
The class eagerly pours out of the elevator, their focus momentarily shifting to the impressive lab space. Rows of sleek workstations are filled with holographic displays, buzzing equipment, and interns darting between projects. The entire space hums with energy, a testament to the innovation happening here.
“Whoa,” Ned whispers, nudging Peter. “This place is awesome.”
Peter manages a faint smile, nodding in agreement. The intern labs are familiar territory for him—second only to the Avengers’ levels, the penthouse, and his dad’s personal lab. He’s spent countless hours here, shadowing engineers or tinkering with his own projects when his dad thought it would be a good learning opportunity. But now, standing here with his classmates, the space feels less like a haven and more like a trap.
“Parker,” Clark says, his eyes wide as he looks around the room. “You get to work here?”
Peter shrugs, forcing his tone to stay casual. “Yeah. It’s pretty cool.”
“Pretty cool?” Abe echoes, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Dude, this is insane. You’re so lucky.”
Peter ducks his head, letting his hair fall into his eyes as he murmurs, “It’s not a big deal.”
As they move further into the lab, Peter notices a few interns glancing his way, their expressions lighting up with recognition. He tries to keep his head down, but it’s no use.
“Peter!” a voice calls out. He turns to see Amanda, an engineering intern he’s worked with on several projects, jogging over with a tablet in hand. “Hey, can you take a quick look at this? I’m stuck on the diagnostic for the power grid.”
Peter hesitates, acutely aware of his classmates’ eyes burning into him. “Uh, sure,” he says, stepping forward. He scans the tablet, his brow furrowing in concentration. “You’re missing a line in the code. Right there.”
Amanda’s face brightens, and she lets out a laugh. “Of course! I should’ve caught that. Thanks, Peter.”
As she hurries back to her workstation, the whispers start again.
“Do all the interns here know you?” Betty asks, her tone a mix of awe and curiosity.
Peter shrugs, trying to appear indifferent. “I’ve just been around a while. That’s all.”
“Pete!” another intern calls out, approaching with a small device in hand. “Can you test this calibration real quick? It’s not giving me the numbers I need.”
Peter nods, running a quick diagnostic. He adjusts a setting, then hands the device back. “That should do it.”
“Thanks, man,” the intern says with a grin before returning to his station.
The murmurs behind Peter grow louder.
Ned leans in, his voice low. “Dude, they’re treating you like you run this place.”
“Shh,” Peter mutters, nudging him with an elbow. His heart is pounding, the weight of his classmates’ stares almost unbearable.
At the back of the group, Flash lingers in tense silence. Peter doesn’t have to look to know the bully is fuming. His shoulders are hunched, his fists clenched, and Peter can practically feel the frustration radiating off him.
Sara claps her hands, cutting through the tension. “Let’s keep moving! We’ll head over to the workstations and see some of the projects our interns are working on.”
The group trails behind her, their attention momentarily shifting back to the impressive lab space. Peter exhales quietly, relieved for the distraction. But he knows it’s only a matter of time before the class circles back to Flash—and by extension, to him.
As they move to another station, Sara stops by a sleek robotic arm being tested for adaptive grip technology. The intern at the station explains the design, but Peter barely hears it. His focus is on keeping his head down, avoiding the curious glances being thrown his way.
“Peter!” another voice calls, and he cringes internally. Andrew, another intern, jogs over with a drone in hand. “Can you take a look at this? I’m getting interference, and I can’t figure out why.”
Peter hesitates for a fraction of a second before stepping forward. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
He examines the drone, his hands steady despite the growing tension in the air. The problem is obvious, and he adjusts a loose connection before handing it back. “Try it now.”
Andrew grins. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.”
Peter retreats quickly, rejoining Ned and MJ, but the damage is done.
“Why are they asking you for help?” Grace asks, her voice sharp. “Aren’t you supposed to be an intern like them?”
Peter shrugs again, his throat tightening. “I guess they just think I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s not how internships work,” Clark says, frowning. “You’re almost like their… boss? Superior?”
Flash finally speaks, his voice tight with frustration. “Guys, seriously. You’re reading too much into this. They probably just think Parker’s a know-it-all and figured they’d humor him.”
“Right,” MJ mutters under her breath, but the comment draws no response from Flash.
“Alright, everyone,” Sara says, clapping her hands again. “Let’s head back to the elevator. We’ll swing by the lobby to pick up your swag bags before heading out.”
As the group files out of the lab, Peter exhales slowly. His nerves are frayed, but for now, he’s managed to keep the truth hidden. Still, he can’t shake the sinking feeling that the facade is getting harder to maintain.
-
The group trails down the hallway, their chatter echoing softly as they near the elevators. The trip is nearly over, and Peter feels a flicker of relief knowing he’s almost made it through the day without anything catastrophic happening. All that’s left is the ride back to the lobby, grabbing their swag bags, and heading out.
But then the elevator dings.
“Look,” Betty whispers, nudging Grace and pointing toward the opening doors. “Isn’t that Pepper Stark?”
The name alone grabs the group’s attention like a magnet. Heads swivel, and murmurs ripple through the class as Pepper Stark steps out, her phone in hand and her polished, commanding aura impossible to miss.
“She’s even prettier in person,” someone whispers.
“Yeah, Flash, there’s your stepmom,” Abe says with a teasing grin, leaning back against the wall.
Flash’s face tightens, his jaw clenching as the group erupts into muffled laughter. Even Clark raises an eyebrow and mutters, “Ten bucks says she comes over to say hi to Parker.”
Peter freezes, his face burning. He keeps his gaze locked on the floor, praying she won’t notice him.
But Flash is done. The simmering frustration he’s been holding in all day boils over, and he snaps.
“Oh, come on !” he yells, loud enough to silence the entire hallway.
Everyone turns to look at him, startled, but he’s already moving, shoving past a few classmates to step closer to Peter.
“There is no way,” Flash snarls, his voice shaking with anger, “no way in hell that Pepper Stark knows who Peter Puny Parker is!”
Peter blinks, stunned, as Flash’s words cut through the air.
Flash doesn’t stop. His voice rises, sharp and venomous, as he takes another step closer to Peter, pointing a finger in his face. “I don’t know what you’re doing—what trick you’re pulling—but you’re not an intern. You’re not anything! What, did you pay them off? Huh? Slip some money under the table so they’d act like they know you? Or maybe you’re offering them… other favors.”
The implication is vile, and Peter’s stomach drops like a stone. He can tell that Flash is struggling, grasping at any and everything to keep himself afloat while he’s drowning in his lies. However, it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.
“What the hell?” Ned blurts out, stepping forward protectively, but Flash doesn’t even glance at him.
“Because there’s no way,” Flash continues, his voice almost a growl, “that someone like you —a nobody—has people like this acting like you matter. You’re pathetic, Parker. A joke. ”
Peter doesn’t know what hits harder—the words or the fact that Flash is now in his face, so close Peter can feel the heat of his breath. His classmates stare, wide-eyed and silent, as the tension crackles like a live wire. Flash is projecting… Peter knows that, and yet his face still burns red and humiliation curls in his gut.
“Flash Thompson!” Mr. Harrington’s voice booms, finally breaking the spell.
But before he can say more, Sara steps forward, her face flushed with anger. “That is enough! ” she snaps, her voice trembling. “Young man, this whole tour, I have held my tongue, but I can not allow you to speak to anyone —more specifically, him in—”
Sara doesn’t get to finish, instead interrupted by a voice Peter knows very well.
“ Excuse me!? ”
The air seems to freeze as Pepper Stark approaches, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. Her expression is glacial, her eyes fixed on Flash with a fury that makes Peter’s chest tighten. He’s seen that look on his mother’s face before… very few times and never directed at him, but still it sends a shiver down even his spine.
“Mrs. Stark,” Sara begins, stepping aside nervously. Pepper only raises her hand, not even sparing Sara a glance. Instead Peter watches as her gaze hardens on Flash Thompson.
“Mr. Thompson,” Pepper says, her voice deceptively calm, though it carries a razor-sharp edge. “Would you care to repeat what you just said?”
Flash hesitates, his bravado faltering under her glare. But then, as if doubling down on his anger and humiliation, he makes the fatal mistake of trying to defend himself.
“I—I was just saying,” he stammers, his voice rising again, “there’s no way you actually know him. He’s not even supposed to be here! I mean, come on—he’s just some loser pretending to be important.”
A collective gasp ripples through the group. Now he’s really stepped in it.
Pepper’s expression darkens, her composure slipping as she takes a step closer to Flash, towering over him despite the height difference. “How dare you?” she hisses, her voice low and dangerous. “You insult my staff, my company, and a… young man who has done nothing but try to endure your disgusting behavior all day. If you think—”
“Mom, stop,” Peter blurts out, his voice cracking slightly as he steps forward.
The word hangs in the air like a bomb, and Peter freezes as he realizes what he’s just said.
Pepper’s eyes soften for a split second, but the moment is shattered as another voice enters the fray.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Tony Stark strides out of a nearby conference room, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder and a group of employees trailing behind him. He stops short, taking in the scene—the wide-eyed students, Pepper’s fury, Peter’s stricken expression, and Flash’s pale, panicked face.
“Go,” Tony says to the employees, gesturing toward the elevators. “This doesn’t concern you.”
The employees scatter, muttering nervously as they make their escape.
Tony steps closer, his gaze flicking between Pepper and Peter. “Someone want to tell me why my wife looks like she’s about to commit a felony?”
Pepper points at Flash, her hand trembling with rage. “ That boy just insulted Peter. Said things I won’t repeat.”
Tony’s jaw tightens, and he exhales sharply through his nose. “Oh, we’re doing this now? Great.” He looks at the group, his voice dropping into a dangerous calm. “Everyone—into the conference room. Now.”
The class hesitates, but one look at Tony’s face has them scrambling to obey.
Peter follows last, his stomach twisting as he catches the look on his dad’s face. This is not what he’d envisioned for this trip.
The atmosphere in the conference room is suffocating. The once-eager chatter of Midtown’s students has been replaced by a tense, uneasy silence. The chairs around the sleek glass table feel far too close together, and Peter can feel the weight of every pair of eyes in the room on him.
He keeps his head down, his heart pounding. His chest still aches from Flash’s words in the hallway, the insult cutting deeper than he’d expected. But what gnaws at him more is the slip—the one word that had tumbled out of his mouth in the heat of the moment. Mom.
He’s mad at himself for letting it happen. Mad at Flash for pushing him to that point. And maybe, just maybe, a little relieved that his parents are here.
Pepper stands near the head of the table, her anger radiating off her in waves. Tony is beside her, leaning casually against the wall, though the tension in his jaw betrays his irritation.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Tony says coolly, his voice cutting through the silence. “Send the footage from the hallway to Midtown Tech’s principal. And while you’re at it, send it to Mr. and Mrs. Thompson.”
A quiet ping confirms the command, and Flash’s head snaps up, panic etched across his face.
“Wait, what?” Flash blurts out, his voice cracking. “You can’t—my parents are gonna kill me! And the principal—”
“Quiet,” Tony snaps, his sharp tone silencing Flash instantly.
Pepper steps forward, her eyes narrowing at the bully. “You should have thought about the consequences before you decided to spew vile, baseless accusations at my son in front of your classmates.”
The word son hangs in the air like a thunderclap, and Peter winces as the weight of it settles over the room. He risks a glance at his classmates, their wide eyes darting between him and his parents. No one speaks. No one even moves.
Pepper turns her attention to the rest of the group, her voice steady but unyielding. “I’m sure you all have questions, but let me make one thing clear: this is not up for debate, discussion, or gossip.”
Tony straightens, pushing off the wall and crossing his arms. “That’s right. You all signed NDAs as part of your permission slips for this tour. That means nothing you’ve seen or heard today leaves this building. Not accidentally. Not anonymously. Not in any way.”
Peter watches as Tony’s sharp gaze sweeps across the room, his classmates shrinking under the intensity.
Pepper and Tony both look to him expectantly for a second, asking him a quiet question. At this rate everyone knew the truth, so Peter nods, rolling his shoulders back and accepting the fact that he won’t be the same Peter Parker his classmates had known for years anymore.
“Let me spell it out for you,” Tony continues, his tone razor-sharp. “Yes, Peter is our son. Yes, that is a private fact. If anything about this gets out—anything—it will be traced back to you. You’ll be expelled from school, blacklisted from the workforce, and believe me when I say, the Stark family will press charges.”
Pepper nods, her expression severe. “I hope we’re all clear on that.”
The class murmurs a collective, shaky agreement, their heads bobbing like nervous marionettes.
Peter shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his hands gripping the edge of the chair. He can feel the tension in the air, thick and oppressive, but he also feels a small flicker of reassurance knowing his parents are standing up for him.
Flash, however, doesn’t seem to know when to stop.
“This is insane!” he bursts out, his voice rising in desperation. “I was just joking! You’re gonna ruin my life over a stupid—”
“I said quiet !” Tony’s voice snaps like a whip, his anger cutting through the room with finality.
Flash slumps back in his chair, his face pale, his mouth clamping shut.
Pepper exhales sharply, then looks at Peter. Her expression softens slightly, her eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly.
Peter nods, though the lump in his throat makes it hard to speak. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tony steps closer, his gaze softening as it lands on Peter. “You didn’t do anything wrong, kid,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Got it?”
Peter nods again, though he’s not entirely sure he believes it.
Tony turns back to the class, his expression hardening once more. “Alright. This field trip is over. FRIDAY call happy resort the class back to the lobby to grab their swag bags and get on the bus,” Tony orders before turning to the rest of the class.” Let me reiterate—this is not a story you want to try telling. Understand?”
The class nods quickly, their silence deafening.
Tony holds the door open, his gaze lingering on Flash for a moment longer before he steps aside, allowing the group to file out. Peter stays back with his parents, his mind still reeling, and his stomach twists. This isn’t how the day was supposed to go—not even close.
As the last student exits, Sara turns back, her expression a mix of regret and nervousness. “Mr. Stark, Mrs. Stark,” she begins, her voice trembling slightly. “I just want to apologize… for everything. I didn’t know what was going on earlier—I was confused all day about why another student was claiming to be your child. I didn’t want to overstep or say the wrong thing, but I should’ve—”
“Stop,” Pepper says gently, raising a hand. Her voice, while firm, lacks the sharp edge it held earlier. “Sara, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Tony nods in agreement, his tone softer now. “No one could’ve predicted this was going to happen. We didn’t think… well, let’s just say we weren’t expecting that to blow up the way it did.”
Sara exhales shakily, nodding but still looking uneasy. “I just—I feel awful. I didn’t know whether to intervene or not, and I should have—”
“You handled it as best you could,” Pepper assures her. “The responsibility here doesn’t lie with you. Please don’t feel guilty.”
Peter shifts uncomfortably, guilt pooling in his chest as he watches Sara’s shoulders relax slightly under his mom’s words. He knows she’s not in trouble—Pepper and Tony are clear about that—but seeing Sara look so regretful makes him feel like maybe, in some way, this is still his fault. If he’d been more careful, if he hadn’t slipped, if he hadn’t…
No. He shakes the thought away. Flash is the one who started this. Not him.
Mr. Harrington clears his throat, stepping forward. His face is flushed, and he looks about as uncomfortable as Peter feels. “Mr. Stark, Mrs. Stark, I want to apologize as well,” he says, his tone formal. “I’ve known about Flash’s stories for a while—he’s been saying things like this in class for months. But Peter never seemed bothered by it, and I knew I was under strict instructions from the school to keep Peter’s personal information private. I didn’t think…” He trails off, shaking his head. “I didn’t think it would escalate to this.”
Tony narrows his eyes slightly, but it’s Pepper who speaks first.
“You did the right thing,” she says firmly. “We know Midtown is under strict confidentiality rules when it comes to Peter, and we appreciate that you followed them.”
Tony crosses his arms, nodding. “But moving forward, you need to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Flash Thompson needs to be written up for this—immediately.”
“Absolutely,” Pepper adds, her tone firm. “We’ll be following up with the principal tomorrow to ensure this is taken seriously.”
Mr. Harrington nods quickly. “Understood. I’ll make sure it’s handled.”
“Good,” Tony says, his gaze softening slightly. “And just so you know, Peter won’t be riding the bus back to school with the rest of the class. He’ll be staying here at home.”
Pepper adds, “It’s likely he won’t be back to school until next week. I’m sure the school can work with us to ensure he’s excused and that his assignments are sent over.”
“Of course,” Mr. Harrington says immediately. “We’ll take care of everything.”
Peter glances at his parents, feeling a mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Relief, guilt, embarrassment—all tangled together in a knot that’s hard to untangle. He’s grateful that they’re here, standing up for him, but he can’t help feeling like he’s caused a mess for everyone.
“Peter,” Pepper says, her voice soft as she turns to him. “You okay?”
He nods quickly, though he can’t quite meet her eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Tony steps closer, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You sure?”
Peter hesitates, then nods again. “Yeah,” he says quietly.
Pepper studies him for a moment before exhaling softly and turning back to Sara and Mr. Harrington. “Thank you both for understanding,” she says. “We’ll be in touch with the school tomorrow.”
Sara nods, her shoulders visibly relaxing, and Mr. Harrington gives a short, polite nod. As they leave the room, Pepper places a gentle hand on Peter’s back, guiding him toward the door.
The elevator ride to the penthouse is silent, save for the soft hum of machinery as they ascend. Peter keeps his head down, his backpack hanging limply from one shoulder. His parents stand on either side of him, quiet but watchful. He knows they’re giving him space, waiting for him to speak first, but he doesn’t know what to say.
By the time the elevator doors slide open into the expansive penthouse, Peter’s stomach is twisting in knots. He steps inside, toeing off his shoes and dropping his backpack by the door before heading toward the couch. He sinks into the cushions, curling his legs up and hugging a throw pillow to his chest.
Pepper and Tony follow, exchanging a brief glance before sitting down on either side of him.
For a moment, no one speaks. The silence feels heavy, but not suffocating. It’s the kind of silence that Peter knows well—the kind where his parents are just waiting, letting him take the lead.
Finally, Tony breaks the quiet, his voice softer than usual. “Roo, you wanna tell us what’s going on in that head of yours?”
Peter shrugs, not meeting his dad’s gaze. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, though it’s a lie. He knows exactly what’s going on in his head—guilt, anger, embarrassment, frustration—but putting it into words feels too big.
Pepper leans forward, resting a hand gently on his knee. “Sweetheart, it’s okay to feel upset. Flash said some terrible things. You don’t have to brush it off like it’s nothing.”
Peter shakes his head, gripping the pillow tighter. “It’s not just that. It’s… everything. I messed up. I called you ‘Mom’ in front of everyone. I wasn’t careful enough. And now, everyone knows. I just—” He cuts himself off, his voice cracking.
“Hey,” Tony says, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “First of all, you didn’t mess up. That’s on Flash. He pushed, and you defended your mom. Nothing wrong with that.”
Pepper nods, her voice warm. “And if anyone from your class thinks they’re going to run their mouths about it? They won’t. You heard your dad in the conference room. No one’s crossing that line.”
Peter sighs, leaning into Tony’s side. “I just… I feel like I made everything worse. For you guys, for Sara, for Mr. Harrington. And now the whole class probably thinks I’m some spoiled rich kid or something.”
Tony snorts softly. “Spoiled rich kid? Kid, I’ve seen how you agonize over spending five bucks on a snack. You’re the furthest thing from spoiled.”
Pepper smiles, brushing a hand gently through Peter’s curls. “And as for Sara and Mr. Harrington, they’re fine. No one’s in trouble because of you, Peter. If anything, they’re upset because they care about you. Because they know you didn’t deserve what happened today.”
Peter’s throat tightens, and he swallows hard. He doesn’t know why hearing that makes him feel like he might cry, but it does. He buries his face in the pillow, trying to hold it together.
Tony squeezes his shoulder, his voice soft. “Kid, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. None of this was your fault. You’ve got a mom and dad who’ve got your back, okay? Always.”
Pepper leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter’s head. “And you’re allowed to lean on us when you need to. That’s what family’s for.”
Peter finally lifts his head, looking between them. “Thanks,” he says quietly.
They sit there for a moment, the three of them tangled together on the couch in a way that makes Peter feel just a little lighter.
Tony breaks the silence first, his tone shifting to something lighter. “So, what do you say we take the rest of the day off? Maybe see if the extended fam is up for a movie night?”
Peter blinks, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You mean, like, the Avengers?”
“Who else?” Tony grins, already pulling out his phone. “ you can even pick the movie even though it’s not your turn. Lord knows cap would have us watching the sound of music for the fourth time.”
Peter laughs softly, the tension in his chest loosening a little more. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
Pepper stands, smoothing her hands down her slacks. “I’ll order pizza. You two figure out the rest.”
Tony ruffles Peter’s hair before standing as well. “See, kid? Problem solved. Pizza, movies, family—it’s a foolproof plan.”
Peter watches them move around the penthouse, a warmth settling in his chest. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel completely at ease about what happened today, but sitting here, surrounded by the people who love him most, he thinks he’ll be okay.