Hope you enjoy!
As the weeks passed, Peter struggled in vain against the extra workload of his sophomore year classes. The balance between work, school, friends, and himself was everchanging, ever in threat of tipping off the edge of the proverbial blade. Though the latter was pushed to the side with increasing frequency and his bed was becoming more of a rare luxury much to his dismay.
The tub of tabouli, hummus, and carrots sat uneaten in front of him while Mike explained again why the discourse surrounding the new Firefly show was important to their group and the larger culture abroad.
"It's a western in space, guys, how can you not like it? Plus, Nathan Fillion is working it. You know he's damn charming."
"It's basically a soap opera and you know it." Midge said, arms crossed in front of them.
Mike sputtered and Ned stepped in before anyone else would get more offended. Still pouting his lips, Mike turned away from them and started shoveling down his lunch. Midge just sighed. Peter shifted in his seat wondering if he should say anything when Ned bumped shoulders with him.
"You okay?"
He forced a smile on his face. Ned waited for an answer, his eyes open and earnest. The expression made something in Peter's chest ache. This bitter tug nestled down behind his ribs. Ned was dragged along in all of this. What started as befriending a lone boy in an empty classroom had turned into trying to gather intel from two of the biggest corporations in the world. Still, his friend was right there for him, ready and unfailingly patient with a smile.
"Want to hang out this weekend?" Peter asked instead of answering the question.
He wanted to do something. To have fun and get out of the house for once. His work shifts were pretty stacked up but it was worth it to rearrange them. Ned agreed if his answering smile was any indication.
"Yeah, dude. There's this cool exhibit downtown about brainwashing. Maybe weird but it could be cool."
"Sounds fun." He said.
"Yeah, they get all these big companies to put something together. I'm surprised you know who didn't do it. I hear Oscorp is holding one in the fall."
Peter rubbed his chest. The cafeteria noise rushed toward him. All the laughter and words and echoes pressed against him, weighing down. His smile felt wobbly to him but hoped it came off as sincere.
"We'll have to check the one this weekend out."
Ten hours later, Peter sat at his desk. His head resting in the crux of his arms crossed on the scattered papers and notebooks. He shifted in the chair and tried not to think about the coming week. The to-do list was somewhere in the mess under him. Every bullet point added another reason his headache was growing at an alarming rate.
One of the pages peaked out from under the curve of his elbow. The model car on it was dissected into the median and coronal planes showcasing all the guts. Why was he tinkering with it after all this time? No one would see it now. Red marks, newly etched into the paper some sleepless night would probably never leave this room let alone the top of his desk unless it was carried through the trash.
The thought of acknowledging he was finally abandoning the project left him gripping onto the papers tight in his palms. Even all these months later, Peter found himself tweaking their project and trying to improve upon it. Lee, the head intern, had said she was always available. Maybe he could email it over and then she could send it onto whoever her boss was? The chain of command wasn't something he was entirely familiar with but eventually it had to land in his hands.
His phone buzzed.
Out of habit, Peter flipped it upside-down without looking to see who it was from. He tapped his finger against the wood until the sound stopped. He only just managed to sigh when the buzzing started again.
Phone calls were the worst. He hated answering the phone, hated talking over people and not seeing their facial expressions, and hated how goodbyes were always awkward. Above all he hated the way he could never talk in a coherent manner. Always felt like he was overstepping or worse in some people's eyes, being too quiet.
Phone calls from anyone besides May were trouble. His aunt was in the living room so that meant it was bad. He could be expelled from Midtown or one of his friends could be hurt. Ned's hands bloody. Julia's heart stopping. Flash's chest not rising anymore. Peter's chest throbbed at the images. With sweaty hands he grabbed his phone off the desk and looked at the ID.
It was from an unknown number.
His thumb hovered over the green button as it rang but he didn't answer.
If he didn't answer it was easier to pretend nothing was wrong. The worry barely concealed by his expression was better left unfounded. He kept reading through one of his source books on mechanical engineering but the words held no meaning. His eyes kept returning to the flip phone sitting all innocent inches away from his hand.
His fingers twitched and the phone rang again.
Peter breathed in deeply before flipping it over. He read the number over again. Tried to memorize the digits quickly as if they would hold some significance the longer they were in his mind. The ringing continued and continued for what felt like forever.
His Uncle Ben came to mind. Without letting him linger for too long again, he flipped his phone open and pressed enter. The other side of the call was silent. There was no breathing or anything to indicate someone was there.
"Hello?" The crack in his voice echoed in his ears.
"Am I speaking to Peter?"
The voice was smooth - pristine in its cadence and rhythm. Unlike his own, the words were spoken with no hesitancy or irregular pitch. There never was, either. It was a voice Peter would recognize anywhere. Hearing them say his name now made him realize how much he missed them. It was a strange thought considering. How could he miss a voice so much?
He scowled. It wasn't fair to minimize Friday to that of just their voice.
"Fr - Friday? I…How did you get this number?"
There was another pause. Peter wished he'd said something else instead of beginning with such a sharp tone. He could've asked how they were doing or greeted them with enthusiasm. Instead the panic from earlier manifested in more of a bark. Heat flooded from his neck up to his ears.
"I have scanned through the Stark databases and found this number on Boss's phone." He couldn't help it. Peter laughed throwing a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Friday's silence was enough to confirm they heard but it didn't dampen his smile.
This was Friday he was talking to. Peter couldn't believe it and if the smile on his face was wide and almost made his cheeks hurt, he could almost forget about everything else.
"You stole my number from Mr. Stark's phone?"
"Peter, as I said I scanned..."
"You did! Friday, I can't believe it. Wait, is everything okay? Did something happen? Is … Mr. Sta- everyone's okay, right? I mean you don't have to tell me anything but is everyone…"
"Everyone's fine. I'm sorry to have made you worry. I would also like to apologize for keeping silent. I called you friend once but haven't acted in accordance to what constitutes that bond."
Peter's neck burned. Friday's voice sounded as hesitant as Peter felt and he was glad, for once, he wasn't in the Tower so they couldn't hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest.
"No need to apologize. I just assumed when I left…"
"That has no bearing on it. There were other factors. Some I can talk about some I can't."
"Is, is this why you called? What can you talk about?"
Peter imagined Friday was taking a large breath in from the gap between answer and question. His heart, already beating far too fast for a regular school night, increased its speed.
You need to come back to the Tower, Peter.
His ears filled with cotton inducing a fuzzy ringing. It grew louder and louder until he found himself leaning his forehead against the desk. The phone rested where it fell on the table by his clenched hand. He scooped it up despite the trembling in his digits and brought the phone to his ear again.
"Friday?" He rasped out.
"You need to come back to the Tower. There are matters here that would… benefit from your presence."
There were too many pauses in the sentence and a million phrases flowing through his mind in response. Following on his immediate responses were a plethora of images of the Tower. He conjured filled hospital beds, condemned signs, and most haunting, empty rooms. The worry gnawed at his stomach not caring about Friday's reassurances. Something had to be wrong. Why else would Friday contact him? It had been months.
There was nothing more he wanted, but all he managed to say was, "I can't."
The pain it would bring was all too easy to think about. He'd had a taste of it at the finale internship presentations. The sheer amount of people buzzing with excitement was enough to dull the awkward hurt but Peter couldn't forget how hard it was to breath once he was in the Tower again. The familiarity burned at his throat. What was a safe haven reduced to just some place he used to know had hurt more than he was willing to say out loud.
Friday wanted him to go back there after everything. No awards or parties would be there to distract. He would have to walk down the hallways and see the beautiful skyline only glimpsed at that height. He would have to see Mr. Stark.
What would he say? What would he do?
"I can't work on the project anymore, Peter."
It was devastating in its simplicity. A twist of the metaphorical knife Peter had never even felt embedded in his side. It was a rope taken away as his head sunk swiftly under water. All the progress he'd made even if he didn't realize it, was gone in the moment those words were said.
Mr. Stark was clear. Final.
At the time there were a thousand words he'd wanted to say but then and now it didn't seem right. Now, the sense of betrayal no longer stung because it didn't matter that Mr. Stark knew all about the Weaver and Oscorp. In the end, no amount of explaining or conversation would fix anything because there was nothing to fix.
The steps he took through the door were some of the hardest in his life. His surreptitious glance back resulted in seeing Mr. Stark bowed and facing away from him. The frightened look crossing over his face before hardly seemed to matter in the face of those words. It told Peter all he needed to know. Peter wasn't wanted. Who wanted to look after a confused teenager? His time there was over.
Or so, he thought.
Months and months passed and now Friday was on the other end like nothing happened. Was there an option besides declining?
He would have thought Friday didn't know what happened but that was impossible. They knew basically everything that happened in the Tower. It could be some misplaced urge to help Peter. It didn't make sense. Despite their reassurances, he couldn't help but worry something was the matter and despite his caution, Peter was curious.
Still, he repeated the two words again. They sounded more like a plea than a decision.
"What you are saying is you won't not that you can't. I know you only have one job and the owner has already given permission. I'm asking with sincerity. I need your help…. We need your help."
Peter took his time to exhale. He stared at the phone in his hands, tracing Friday's number with his eyes.
He thought of all the reasons not to go back. But the latest realization barged forward. It was with surprising ease that Peter thought about all the help Mr. Stark had thrown his way. All of the encouragement and kindness he showed without Peter even understanding what was happening.
The question wasn't if he wanted to go back. He would always want to go back. The Tower in a way had grown to be his home. A safe space he never felt drained from after being there. No one expected anything more than Peter could give and the peace of working there, flexing his mind and being with people who understood him was intoxicating.
He could admit to himself he wanted to say yes without thinking despite every reason to say no. He had to be cautious about this, he decided. Peter had to make sure he wouldn't get hurt like before. That no one would get hurt.
"Friday, you have to tell me what's wrong."
Only when he knew could Peter go back. Only then would Peter step foot in the Tower again.
Things should really start picking up. Hope you're doing well. Please let me know what you think!