Chapter Text
The chorus of his old teammates’ heartbeats accelerated in unison as they all eventually noticed Peter standing alone in the lobby of Stark Industries. Then Flash opened his mouth, and Peter took a deep breath.
“Parker?”
The name seemed to ring out in the lobby, especially since there were only a few non-student bystanders: the secretary, the security guard, and a few workers waiting for the elevators. Peter was just surprised that it hadn’t been a derogatory term that left Flash’s mouth.
Words didn't seem to want to form, so all Peter offered was a slight wave. He quickly found Harley in the crowd of high schoolers, and he relaxed slightly when he saw his boyfriend smiling, waving him over. Peter found himself obeying the request, his feet carrying him over to his old friends without his brain’s permission.
Harley moved to the front of the group, and Peter sidled up to him like it was nothing. He didn’t mean to pretend to not notice everyone else, but on instinct, that was exactly what he did. It was easy, too, because no one except for Flash had said anything yet.
“When does the tour start?” he casually asked Harley, avoiding his teammates’ gazes.
Harley furrowed his brows, and turned to look up at Mr. Harrington inquisitively. Peter noticed that Mr. Harrington had to shake himself out of his haze in order to answer the question.
“The, uh, the tour guide should arrive in, uh, about ten minutes. Or less.” Mr. Harrington’s usual smile finally rose to his face, bright yet hesitant. “Peter. It’s lovely to see you again.”
Peter smiled in return, opened his mouth to respond, and was then interrupted by all of his old friends at once.
“Peter!”
“Dude, what happened?”
“Why are you even here?”
“Do you know Harley?”
“We missed you!”
Peter took a step back, and Harley gently laid a hand on Peter’s back. They looked at each other, Peter looking for support, Harley looking to support. After receiving a slight nod and a reassuring tap to his back, Peter turned back to the team.
“Good to see you guys too,” he said, chuckling slightly. He took a breath. He took another. He decided that he could, in fact, do this. “I graduated early. Sorry I couldn’t keep contact with any of you.”
“Wait!” Sally called, her eyes wide. “Would you also happen to have a dog that you got over the weekend?”
“Uh, yeah,” Peter confirmed, tilting his head back to Harley. “How…did you know that?”
Cindy was the one who spoke this time. “Harley showed us pictures of the dog! He said she belonged to his friend that graduated early!” She grinned, looking very genuinely excited. “That’s you, right?”
“That’s me.” Peter flashed them a smile, and he realized that he couldn’t remember if that matched the character of the Peter they knew. The Peter of now was quite a bit different from the Peter from the practices he seldom attended, the Peter of Decathlon Nationals, or the Peter who was grieving his girlfriend and aunt. Peter didn’t even know who the Peter of now was, so how was he meant to act around these people who knew him as someone that didn’t exist anymore?
“Why are you here?” Flash asked, repeating his question. He stood at the edge of the crowd, no longer surrounded by the bullies that goaded him on in sophomore year.
Peter shrugged. “Harley invited me. Figured it’d be cool to come.”
“Wait, no, Harley?” Mr. Harrington spluttered, obviously barely keeping up with the conversation. “You weren’t supposed to invite anyone, this trip was specifically for the team! We could get in trouble with Stark Industries if we break the terms of the contract.”
Harley shrugged with the same nonchalant attitude that Peter offered. “We won’t get in trouble. I asked Tony, he said it was fine.”
Peter smiled knowingly. Mr. Harrington didn’t.
“Tony…Tony who? Who said it was fine?”
“Tony Stark,” Harley explained. Peter snorted, elbowing Harley for his vagueness. Harley’s neutral face faltered slightly, his lips quirking up, but he pulled it together.
“What the fuck is going on?” Betty cried, sounding slightly exasperated and very confused. Peter felt just a little bit bad, but this was already going better than he’d imagined. “You don’t know Tony Stark, do you?”
“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Peter heard Charles mutter to someone, who Peter assumed to be a freshman. The 14-year-old looked unbelievably lost.
“Well, I live with him.” Harley pulled his hand away from Peter’s back, instead using it to gesture to him vaguely. “Peter also lives with him. We live here. Which is why Tony didn’t mind him taggin’ along.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Betty sighed. “I have even more questions.”
Abe pulled away from the group slightly, moving up to stand closer to Harley. “Harley actually lives here, I can vouch,” he confidently stated. “He’s been here for, like, six months. I was the first to know!”
“Bullshit,” Flash decided. Mr. Harrington had seemingly chosen not to give a shit about the current vulgarity. “You guys don’t live here, this is the Avengers Tower.”
Peter nodded, sarcastically tapping his chin in thought. “Yeah, we live with them, too.”
(What the fuck was Peter doing? Why was he acting so casual? He was freaking out, but all he could think to do was make sarcastic comments that probably didn't help the situation. Everything about this was so goddamn chaotic. What the fuck? What the fuck.)
“Fri?” Harley called, glancing up at the ceiling. “Me and Peter live here, right?”
“Last time I checked, yes,” FRIDAY confirmed. Peter caught the freshman flinching at her voice. The old-timers of the team simply raised their eyebrows, looking away from the ceiling and back to Harley and Peter with open mouths.
“Tony Stark’s A.I. knows you guys?” Cindy breathed.
“Pete’s A.I. knows us too,” Harley quietly joked, clearly trying to direct his words only at Peter. However, Abe, standing right next to Harley, heard what Harley had said and repeated it in shock. Loudly.
“Since when does Parker have an A.I.?” Flash demanded. His voice was back to the harshness that Peter was used to.
Remember when Peter had thought that this was going better than anticipated? This was no longer true.
“None of your business,” Karen sassily replied, which surprised even the old-timers, and Peter let his head fall into his hand. Harley chuckled lightly from beside him, and smoothed his hand across Peter’s back.
The faces of his friends continued to fall deeper into confusion, and Abe cleared his throat. “Let’s recap: Peter’s back—welcome back, Peter. Peter’s going on the trip with us, apparently, and he somehow lives in the Tower with Harley. He also has an A.I.” He looked between Peter and Harley. “Is that everything?”
Harley quirked an eyebrow at Peter and moved his hand down from Peter’s back to offer it to him between their bodies. Peter ticked his head in consideration, took Harley’s hand in his own, and smiled at the team.
“We’re also datin’,” Harley tacked on, a sly little grin growing on his face.
“Congrats, you two are cute,” Sally offered with hardly any hesitance. “But that’s, like, the least surprising thing about this whole interaction.” Several murmurs of agreement supported her statement.
Peter shrugged in response. It was the most surprising thing to him, but Peter’s friends didn’t know how truly unequipped for a relationship he was. Actually, the most surprising thing was that Peter was capable of forcing himself to stand in front of his old friends and hold a conversation with them, despite how uncomfortable he was. Again, though, they probably didn't understand the amount of effort it took for Peter to enter the elevator with the intent to go down to the lobby to wait for the team.
“Yeah, like, I’m still wondering why you couldn't keep contact with us,” Cindy pointed out. “You didn’t have to go completely off the grid, did you? What happened?”
Peter shrugged for what felt like the millionth time. “Hell if I know,” he dismissed, before nodding towards a woman heading their way. “Our tour guide’s here anyway, so we best settle down.”
Peter was thankful for the distraction their guide offered, since he wouldn’t have to be incessantly questioned while the team was paying attention to her. They turned towards the person whom he was referencing, a petite woman in casual clothes and with braids that cascaded down her back. The color of her acrylics matched the deep blue of her sneakers. She wore a lanyard that signified, in bold letters, that she was a certified guide. She looked to be college-aged, only a few years older than the older team members. Regardless of her informal wear and young age, her stature was self-assured and calm, perfectly prepared to handle a hoard of high school nerds.
Despite obviously wanting to continue their interrogation, the team obediently fell silent as their guide settled to a stop in front of the group. Peter subtly drifted closer to the back of the crowd, Harley quietly following.
“Hey, Midtown,” she greeted, a smile lighting up her face. It seemed genuine, which wasn't what Peter had expected from a guide who'd probably given this tour dozens of times. “My name is Sarah, and I’ll be your guide for today.”
As she swept her eyes across the group, Peter noticed her make eye contact with Harley. Surprisingly, she waggled her eyebrows at him, and he gave a discreet little wave in return. The moment passed, and she looked away, turning to pull something out of the tote bag she bore.
Peter glanced at Harley in question, but his boyfriend just smiled slightly, a brief wave of his hand indicating that he'd tell Peter later.
Peter nodded minutely, and tuned into what Sarah was explaining.
“—all just for security reasons, really,” she was saying, clutching a stack of lanyards in one hand. “You’ll just scan these to get past the security checkpoint, and continue to wear them throughout the trip, lest anyone have any questions about your right to be here. They'll time out once I log that you've left the Tower, so just think of them as souvenirs.” Sarah pulled the first lanyard from the stack and held it out as she called, “Sally Avril?”
Peter watched as Sally cut to the front of the group to acquire her pass, soon replaced by Betty, then Abe, and by the time Harley moved past his teammates to reach Sarah, Peter finally blinked with a realization. His name was not going to be called.
While Peter tried to figure out what to do about the inevitable issue—Play dumb? Leave? Tell her the truth?—he heard Harley's hushed tones explain exactly what Peter had been thinking.
“The kid I was standing with won't get a pass, so don’t be confused,” he muttered to Sarah, who nodded evenly, no shock to be seen on her face. Peter looked away from them right before she laid eyes on him, barely able to avoid being caught staring. “I invited him.”
“Of course you did,” she replied easily, and with that, Harley walked back to Peter with a small smile and his pass in hand.
“Thanks for that,” Peter whispered as Sarah continued to call out names. “You think ahead.”
“As always,” Harley responded, just as quietly.
When Sarah breezed past the “P” last names without mentioning a Parker, Peter felt Flash’s gaze on him. The boy clearly wanted to say something to him; Peter could practically hear the words that wanted to fall from Flash’s mouth—Guess you’ll always be forgotten, huh, Parker? Clearly, however, Flash had learned to calm himself in Peter’s absence, seeing as Flash eventually turned away from Peter and refocused on Sarah.
She was soon done handing out lanyards, and explained that the team would have to individually scan their passes at the security checkpoint before they moved on to the museum portion of the tour. Apparently, there was an Avengers exhibit in the Tower that Peter had no idea even existed. This was why he’d thought it was a good idea to go on this trip in the first place—he knew fuck all about this place.
The team filed through the security line, and blessedly, Peter and Harley were being left alone in the back of the line. The person in front of them was the freshman, so the only attention they got from the kid was a curious glance before he looked away.
“So you know Sarah?” Peter asked, sliding his eyes between their tour guide at the front of the line and his boyfriend.
Harley nodded, fiddling with his pass. “I’m friends with a few workers here. I didn’t even know that she’d be givin’ the tour, though, ‘cause I only know her as an R&D intern tryna get her graduate.”
“Cool,” Peter murmured. He didn’t know Harley had actually interacted with Stark Industries employees, but he supposed that since Harley’d been at the Tower for months, he was bound to explore a bit. “You think you’ll recognize anyone else?”
“My guess is that we’ll talk with one or two department heads. I know the head of the engineerin’ department, since that’s mainly where I end up when I’m on the lower levels. Who knows, though.”
“Not me,” he agreed, and watched as Harley swiped his pass across the scanner like the kid in front of them had done. A small light blinked green, and Harley passed through the metal detector as the security guard nodded while he checked his computer. Peter assumed that FRIDAY would be aiding the search of visitors.
“Fri?” Peter whispered, knowing that she would pick up his voice. “You gonna let me through without a pass, or am I gonna be kicked out?”
When the A.I. responded, her voice was so quiet that Peter doubted that anyone else around him would be able to hear it. “You’re clear to go. Just walk through.”
The scanner blinked green automatically, and Peter passed through the metal detectors. There was a sudden beeping coming from the detector, and Peter froze as the security guard called out to him.
“Got any metal on ya?” the man said in a bored tone, and Peter racked his mind for what could set off the detector. Sarah had said that they were allowed to carry phones through it, so it wasn’t that, and Peter wasn’t wearing a belt, nor did he carry weapons—
“Your wrists, Pete,” Harley quietly and calmly reminded, and Peter looked up to see the whole team watching him silently. Peter pushed up his sleeves slightly (don't let the team see the scars, hide the scars) to reveal his web shooters, which were definitely there and definitely metal.
“Yeah, you gotta take those off n’ go back through,” the guard sighed, sending a jolt of panic through Peter, not for the first time today. He couldn’t remember the last time he took his web shooters off. “Lemme just…Hold on.” The man sent an almost accusatory glare at Peter, pointing at his computer screen. “Seems as though you’re good to go. A.I.’s got you approved.”
Thank the gods for FRIDAY. She knew him too well.
Peter offered the guard a small nod, but the man wasn’t even looking at him anymore. Turning back to the team, he saw that they were all still staring at him in question, minus Harley, who looked slightly amused. Peter just shrugged, and joined his friends.
“What was that about?” Flash questioned, his voice projecting across the group.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sarah calmly stated before Peter could retort. “FRIDAY bypassed the security system and said that he’s okay to continue, and that’s what counts.” In the silence that followed Sarah’s explanation, she nodded, and pulled out her phone to examine what Peter assumed to be the schedule. “Alright. That door ahead of us leads to the museum part of the tour, during which you will be given 20 minutes to explore the exhibits. I will be walking around the room if you have any questions, but other than that, it’s free reign.” She smiled and opened the door. “Have at it.”
There was a second of hesitation from the crowd, but the moment passed when the freshman kid breathed out, “Sick.” The team broke out into excited chatter and filtered into the museum.
As Peter and Harley finally entered the room, Peter discovered what all the hubbub with the museum was. To start, Peter liked how dark it was. It was a change from the usual onslaught of light in the more typical museums he’d visited in his earlier years of education. The sources of light in the room originated from six separated displays, forming an arc around the outer edges of the room. Peter was quick to realize that on each of the pedestals stood an outfit that correlated with the six Avengers that had emerged at the Battle of New York: Iron Man, Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Thor, and the Hulk. Peter grinned to himself when he saw that the only article of clothing on Bruce’s display was a pair of shorts.
“Where’s your display?” he whispered to Harley, nudging him with a smirk.
Harley batted him away and rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. “Shut up, these are the originals.” He eyed Peter then, a small glint in his eyes that Peter loved. “Mine’s in the next room over.”
Peter’s own eyes brightened at that, suddenly very excited for this aspect of the tour. His mouth opened to express this fact, and perhaps tease Harley a little bit more, but his eyes caught a lingering form standing nearby, edging closer to them.
“What’s up, Flash?” he called out to the boy, making Harley jolt slightly and turn to find the teen in question.
Upon being called out, Flash cleared his throat and approached Peter and Harley more confidently. Peter’s Sense buzzed mildly, merely a reminder of all the shit he’d had to take from Flash in the past. It didn’t match the malice-free expression Flash wore, or the hands meekly hidden in the pockets of his jeans.
“Been a while,” the boy commented.
“Indeed it has,” Peter calmly replied, nodding deeply before he clasped his hands together. “Cool, what a great catching-up we just had. We—” he gestured between himself and Harley “—are gonna check out the exhibits. You—” he gestured to Flash “—can also check out the exhibits. Away from us. Cool? Cool.”
He turned away, Harley quickly doing the same. He hadn’t even taken a step, though, when his Sense pinged again. He didn’t let himself give in to the instinct yank his hand away, though, because he’d somehow retained the training Flash had bullied into him that allowed him to keep his secret identity. He waited for Flash to grab hold of his wrist before he stopped walking, turned back to glare at Flash, and yanked his hand away.
“Uh…” Flash looked lost. Peter rolled his shoulders, and fully turned back to face him. “I just, y’know.” He shrugged.
“Sweet baby Jesus,” Harley groaned. “No, Flash, we do not know. We’d love for you to finish a damn sentence so we can get back to the field trip, though, so get on with it.”
Peter snorted, and covered it with a very fake, very unconvincing cough.
“Okay, Jesus,” Flash grumbled, falling slightly back into the character Peter knew. But then he jumped right back to confusing Peter: “I’m sorry. I was a piece of shit to you at school, and I’m trying to be better. Cool? Cool.”
Flash was the one to turn away this time, having echoed Peter’s farewell, and Peter was almost too goddamn stunned to do anything about it, because what the fuck just happened? The key word there was almost, though, seeing as Peter still had a small bit of sense in him and managed to call out to Flash quietly enough that he wouldn’t attract the attention of the team.
Flash stilled, seemingly debating whether or not he should continue to leave. Peter didn’t blame him.
“What—” Peter shook his head, deciding that it wouldn’t be best to voice his internal cacophony of what the fuck just happened. “Was that real, or…”
It felt like a joke. It felt like Peter was walking the prank. It felt like some camera guy was about to jump out from behind one of the Avengers displays. It felt like Flash was about to burst out laughing, land a punch to his arm, and call him a gullible idiot for thinking that anything Flash just said was genuine.
None of that happened, though. Flash, still turned away from Peter, nodded sharply.
Peter blew out a sharp breath, and his eyebrows seemed to be permanently raised. He shot a glance at Harley, who didn’t seem any less shocked than Peter. Harley met his eyes, and Peter shrugged.
“Okay…” he said hesitantly. “Um. Thanks.”
Flash nodded once more, and took Peter’s acceptance as permission to leave. He fled to the Hawkeye display, where he refused to make eye contact with anyone else viewing the exhibit.
Harley cleared his throat. “That was, uh, pretty odd.”
“It’s usually pretty damn hard to catch me off guard, but that just about did it,” Peter admitted.
It seemed like it really was possible for people like Flash to grow as human beings. Oddly enough, his mind provided a connection between his old bully and the criminals Spider-Man stopped nightly. One of Peter’s main values was that everyone deserved a chance to redeem themselves. Flash seemed to have found that chance.
Of course, it wasn’t like Peter was just going to forget being called Penis at least once a day for two years, but whatever. There were worse things.
“So how about this field trip, huh,” Harley casually commented, similar to how one would mention the weather. Peter honest to God giggled, just because it contrasted so severely with the event that had just come to pass.
“Let’s just head to the next room and hope no one follows us,” Peter declared, grabbing hold of Harley’s hand and leading him through the next door. He felt several of his friends’ eyes on him, but with a seemingly mutual decision to leave him alone, they all averted their eyes.
The next room was formatted differently, in that there were lights other than the ones lighting the displays. Besides that, only some of the displays had suits—for instance, Wanda didn’t have a suit, so part of her display was a looping video of her powers in action.
Harley’s exhibit, though, was the one that attracted his attention (of course). He had the replica of the suit, but Peter was more interested in what the text on the display had to say:
Iron Lad is the most recent addition to the Avengers. Taking inspiration from Iron Man, Iron Lad both formulated and constructed his own suit. Iron Lad has not yet revealed his identity to the world.
[More information to be added.]
“Harls, what’s this part mean?” he asked, pointing to the last line.
Harley hummed, leaning a bit closer. “Since I haven’t revealed anythin’ about myself, they can’t really include much ‘bout me. Plus, Tony says that the missions I’ve been on aren’t really well-known to the public, so it’d be kinda weird to include random information about some HYDRA mission. When I get to go on independent missions or, like, the major missions, they’ll add more stuff.”
“Makes sense.”
Peter stepped away from Harley’s display as Cindy, Betty, and Sally joined them in the room. It wasn’t like they would be able to figure out Iron Lad’s identity from seeing Peter and Harley examining the display, but Peter was still paranoid about those kinds of things.
“Oh, didn’t know you guys were in here,” Sally voiced, heading towards Peter and Harley, as opposed to taking interest in the displays.
“Kinda sped through the first room,” Harley shrugged.
Cindy grinned, firing rapid finger guns at the pair. “‘Cause, ‘cause. You know the Avengers already. ‘Cause you live here. So you don’t need to read about them.”
“Spot on,” Harley confirmed. Peter eyed him as he carefully placed his hands in his jean pockets. Harley appeared calm and comfortable to the untrained eye, with his stupid perfect hair and stupid perfect smile and stupid perfect easy-going posture. However, despite only knowing Harley for nearly two weeks, Peter was able to recognize signs of discomfort: hidden hands, wiggling toes, biting his cheek. It also certainly helped to be able to hear the sudden quickening of his heart rate when Cindy spoke so bluntly, and it couldn’t hurt that Peter knew about the internal strife Harley had dealt with in revealing major hidden aspects about his life.
So, Peter, like a good boyfriend, took over the conversation.
“The facts they have on the displays aren’t even that cool, anyway,” Peter told them. “Everyone knows that they’re good at their jobs. What plenty of people don’t know is that the Falcon gets pissed as all hell when he goes on runs with Captain America and Bucky Barnes because they lap him so much.”
Perhaps it was a bit of a cheap move, pulling random facts about the Avengers out and showing them off to his friends. But then again, no one ever said Peter was a good conversationalist.
“They go on runs together?” Sally asked in disbelief, seemingly taking Peter’s distraction. Harley relaxed slightly, and that was all that mattered.
“Who else would they go on runs with?” Betty muttered, but smiled nonetheless. “What about the Black Widow? Any secret info?”
“Natasha does yoga,” Peter shrugged. “I think her runs happen even earlier than the boys’.”
Betty nodded in approval while Peter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Absentmindedly, he pulled it out to check the text.
nat: Stop talking about me, I'm a spy. Tell them about Clint instead
Peter furrowed his brows, and showed the text to Harley, who read it with a growing smile.
“She's probably watching on Fri’s cameras,” Harley explained. “Seems like a very her thing to do.”
Peter looked up, scanning for the sensors that laid in every room of the Tower. When he found them, he flipped them off and looked away without a second thought.
“Who?” Sally wondered.
nat: Well screw you too
“Natasha,” Peter answered, typing out a reply.
you: yeah yeah i’ll shut up
“She’s texting you?” Cindy excitedly asked at the same time Betty questioned, “She’s watching us?”
Abe and Charles joined the crowd now, Charles calling out, “Who’s watching us?”
Peter and Harley heaved twin sighs. “The Black Widow, aka Natasha,” Peter told them, while Harley nodded.
“She’s texting Peter,” Cindy said to the newcomers at the same time Betty said, “She’s watching us on security cameras!”
“This feels sorta repetitive,” Harley murmured, and Peter hummed his agreement.
you: see what u’ve done
nat: You started it
you: ur a child.
He could feel the eyes of the spectators searching for what he was typing on his phone, so he sighed and flipped it around to show them. Appeasing their Avengers-related curiosity was easier than having them badger Harley or him about their own lives.
“Dude!” Charles exclaimed, whipping his head up upon reading the texts. “You can’t just call the Black Widow a child! She’ll fucking kill you, man.”
Peter shrugged, and his phone buzzed in his hold. He turned it back around to read Nat’s new message, both to himself and the crowd: “She says I have name-calling rights, so she won’t kill me.”
“Dude.” Charles frantically looked around the room for cameras and listening devices that he wouldn’t be able to see. “That’s freaky.”
“That’s life,” was all Peter said as he watched the remainder of the team walk into the room. The younger kid seemed to want to look at the displays, but he ended up following his teammates in joining the crowd surrounding Peter and Harley.
This was exhausting, to be honest. Peter couldn’t wait until the actual tour took place, and the team would be distracted.
“What’s going on?” Seymour wondered, and Peter was not willing to do this again.
“I was just busy congratulating you guys on a good AcaDec season,” he blurted before anyone else could say a word about Black Widow or texting or cameras or where have you been for a year and why do you live with the Avengers and how do you even know Harley, Peter?
“That’s—” Sally was starting to say, but Abe interrupted.
“That’s really kind of you, Peter,” he finished, eyeing Sally pointedly, and Peter untensed slightly. Harley gave a small chuckle. “We worked pretty hard. Sucked that we couldn’t win Nationals, though.”
“We tried our best,” Betty said with the tone of someone who had said that one thousand times before. Peter was just glad that she went with his cover story.
“Maybe the real Nationals were the friends we made along the way,” Harley sagely proclaimed, running his fingers across his jaw as though he had a beard to stroke.
“You’re a nerd,” Peter stage-whispered to his boyfriend, leaning in close, and Harley shooed him away with a smile.
“You guys seem to be done,” came Sarah’s voice from where she was standing in the doorway, and the team all turned to face her. “Your 20 minutes are up, and we can get to the nerdier parts of the tour now. Please find the guest elevator in the next room over.”
The group did as she asked, locating the oversized elevator residing in what seemed to be a room reserved for the use of an elevator. Sarah took her place at the front of the group and scanned her pass to open the elevator for the group. Without being prompted, the small crowd of students, plus Peter and Mr. Harrington, loaded into the elevator, Sarah joining them once they’d settled. The elevator doors closed, and Sarah began her speech.
“We’re headed up to floor 22, which will start our tour off with the computer science department. The employees we’ll be visiting work to design the programs for Stark Phones, as well as future projects for Stark Industries. You'll be able to view some of the programs that the employees are currently working on, and they can show you some of the programming work they had to do in order to get the job. Who here wants a future in computer science?”
Peter looked around the elevator as Sally and Flash hesitantly raised their hands.
“It's certainly a fulfilling career, and S.I. might have a place for you two,” Sarah told them with a wink. The elevator then slowed to a stop, and Sarah stepped out, standing to the side to let the crowd file out.
The elevator had spit them out into the middle of a busy workplace with no preamble, and Peter looked around the office with a smile slowly lighting up his face.
It was essentially the dream workplace for science nerds. Aside from rooms splitting off to the side (seemingly meant for private work), the office space appeared to be one big group project. There were at least two employees to a desk, collaborating across one or two monitors, each having their own keyboard. There was a person avidly watching a small robot roam around the room, taking notes on a tablet as it did flips across the floor. There was another person slightly ahead of the robot, setting obstacles in the path (a pencil, a rock, a textbook, escalating in size to a chair), cheering each time the robot launched itself over the obstacle. The tracks that the robot moved upon propelled it into the air over and over, easily accepting the weight again when it was time for it to land.
“What are the odds I could get a job here?” he murmured to Harley, who chuckled.
“Extremely high,” Harley responded. “Though, it'd probably be good for you to go to college, yeah?”
“Probably.” That was an issue for another day.
“Oh, hey, the kids are here,” one employee pointed out, and about ten other workers turned to face the crowd. The only ones to continue working were the two who were examining the robot.
A person came forward, fiddling with a tablet and blowing stray pieces of hair out of their face with tiny puffs of air. They gave a small smile, and Peter felt a pang of familiarity.
“Hello, Midtown!” they greeted, giving a quick wave. “My name is Xander, pronouns they/them, and I'm the team leader for this floor.”
Peter had previously met several people he'd helped on patrol while he was in civvies, but Xander presenting themself as a part of Peter's tour hardly a week after their attack was so out of the blue that he had to hold back his gasp of realization.
Part of him was immediately concerned that they would figure out his identity, but he knew the likelihood of that happening was slim to none. He had a voice modulator for a reason, and as long as he kept to not showing outright displays of strength or anything, he'd be in the clear.
Still, though. Always weird to know someone, only for them to not recognize the connection.
At least Xander looked to be healed up, no bruising appearing on their face and their lips free of swelling.
“I'm just here to tell you a bit about this department and show you around,” they explained, and the crowd of students nodded with anticipation. “But before we begin, I’ll tell you a bit about myself. I’ve been working here for almost six years now, since I started here in my fourth year of college. I’ve got a bachelor's and master’s in computer science, and I'm working on my doctorate. And I like M&M’s.” They shrugged, and with the motion, the strands of hair they'd originally blown away fell back into their face. They gave a slightly crooked smile. “That’s basically everything to know about me, so let's get on with it.”
Xander took the crowd towards the back of the workspace, and Peter caught glances of the computer screens as they went. Many of them were lined with code, and some included simulations of projects the employees must have been working on. One of the monitors displayed what seemed to be customer reviews of the current Stark Phone.
As the group settled in the back, Charles was quick to raise his hand. Xander gestured for him to ask his question.
“What goin’ on with the robot buddy over there?” he wondered, pointing to the robot Peter had noticed earlier. It seemed to be done with the jumping trials, as it was now darting between two employees, coming to a halt in front of them and receiving a coin to compartmentalize before it seamlessly turned back around.
“Ah, the interns on this floor and the ones on one of the engineering floors are collaborating for their nine-weeks project,” Xander explained. “The prototype’s name is Gabby, but sometimes we call her Grabby because her main function is to grab things for her operators. The engineers built the body, and the programmers down here are working on the coding. The end goal is to be an aid for bed-ridden people, but smaller and cheaper than those currently on the market. If Grabby succeeds and is approved by the board, then S.I. will commercialize her, making her a part of the intern-led product line.”
Stark Industries seemed like a good place to start out in the STEM field. Providing experience and giving interns footing for a spot in the real world? Peter could get with that.
Xander went on to explain the day-to-day lives of the floor 22 employees, and later pulled out the codes that they programmed as a part of their interview at Stark Industries. They ended the segment of the tour by accepting more questions, which were mainly asked by Sally and Flash about how they should go about becoming good candidates for Stark Industries employees.
“Well, that concludes your time on floor 22,” Xander told them, and to punctuate their sentence, Grabby was sent around the group, depositing a Starburst on top of each student’s shoe.
Peter’s was yellow. Harley’s was pink. They both made a slightly disappointed expression, which resulted in a trading of flavors. Pink was Peter’s favorite, and evidently, Harley’s favorite was yellow. Peter had to admit that being candy partners was certainly a good sign.
With a final wave to Xander and the other workers, Sarah guided the group back to the elevator, where she then explained that they’d be going to the 29th floor next, one of the engineering floors. Specifically, the chemical engineering department, which was no closer to what Peter would want to do with his life. (Something with chemicals? Something with biology? He didn’t have it figured out yet, which was why he was more focused on surviving his teenage years.)
While Peter had been immediately excited once he’d stepped out of the elevator into floor 22, he had quite the opposite feeling on this floor. He was met with a steady thrum of his Spidey Sense once he exited, which wasn’t that bad in of itself. But when a flick to the head from Flash didn’t come, or when no one threw a harmless piece of paper across the room, he was set a bit further on edge.
“What’s wrong?” Harley whispered to him, and even just him saying that sentence gave Peter a sick feeling in his stomach. “You gotta weird look on your face.”
“I don’t know yet,” Peter murmured, looking around the workplace. Satisfied with the integrity of the building, and pleased to see that no chemicals from the labs would explode, Peter moved to scanning the people. He didn’t want to assume that one of the employees was about to cause a ruckus, but when his Sense had a sudden spike when he took note of one specific worker, he knew that he had to keep watch on the man. Peter subtly pointed toward him to tell Harley, “It’s him.”
There was another man talking to the group now, assumedly the team leader for this floor. Peter wanted to be listening to him, he really did, but the longer the Dangerous Man just sat there, the higher Peter's stress level got. He couldn't pay attention to the tour while he was trying to figure out what the fuck was about to happen.
“Do ya know if he’s gonna, like…attack us?” Harley quietly questioned. “Or is he just a villain in his off hours?”
“Trying to figure that out.” The most Peter could do right now was analyze the man, putting all of his Spider-Man habits into use.
Peter filtered out the background noise of employees chatting and lab tools clattering, centering in on the Dangerous Man. His heart rate was faster than most, certainly faster than what a heart should sound like when a person is just sitting and typing. His breaths were extremely focused, occasionally taking a forceful sigh to calm down. His legs were bouncing and his eyes weren’t focused on his computer screen, instead darting around the room. Oddly, he glanced at the tour group the most, and his mouth would twitch every time he did so. His tongue would often dart out to wet his dry lips.
He was nervous about something. Very fidgety. Of course, the man could just have anxiety or something, but Peter’s Spidey Sense certainly correlated with nervous, fidgety people. The Dangerous Man was waiting for something. Or, perhaps, waiting to do something.
The man’s hand twitched away from his keyboard. His next glance at the AcaDec team was slightly prolonged.
“I think,” Peter whispered, taking a halting breath and itching to activate his web shooters, “I think that civilians need to leave.”
“Textin’ Tony,” Harley replied. “Actually…Here—” he handed Peter his phone “—you’ll probably be able to word this better.”
Peter took the phone easily, Tony’s contact name already blaring across the screen.
you: this is peter. the tour is on floor 29 and there’s a guy that’s setting off my sixth sense. he’s probably gonna try to do smth soon and ppl might need to evacuate. he’s suspicious as all hell
He sent the text, and went back to watching the Dangerous Man while he waited for Tony to respond. There was another glance towards the team, another swipe of his tongue across his lips, and another forceful sigh. Then his hands reached—not twitched—beneath his desk, and he subtly began to pull at something there.
Peter’s heart was harshly thumping in his chest as the Dangerous Man removed a metal object, smaller than the average cell phone, from beneath his desk.
He fiddled with the object for a second.
He pressed a button on the object.
He set the object on his desk.
The object emitted a very faint beeping.
you: bomb
you: he’s got a bomb