Peter Parker sat outside the principal's office holding an ice pack to his face. Flash Thompson sat a few chairs down from him looking nervous and annoyed, with an ice pack to the back of his head, and next to him sat another boy, half a head taller than either of them, and built like a rugby player, who was holding an ice pack to his wrist.

Peter tried, again, to figure out how he'd gotten himself into this situation. He made it a point to stay out of the principal's office almost all of last year. And he made an even bigger point of staying out of anything physical, at least when he was himself. Spiderman got physical all the time, but he still preferred to keep his distance and use his webs to avoid hurting anyone too much with his radioactive-spider-powered strength. He had to stop talking about himself in the third person in his head. It got confusing sometimes though.

Principal Morita walked out, and glared sternly at all three boys. "Hall, your mother is on her way. Thompson, your parents are both on their way," Flash blanched, looking very surprised, and started picking nervously at his fingernails. Hall seemed indifferent.

Morita turned to Peter. "Parker, we haven't been able to get a hold of your aunt. Sorry, but I'm going to have to call your secondary guardian."

Morita knew exactly who that was, and he really did look regretful. Maybe partially for Peter, but at least partially for himself, as well.

Peter sighed, and his shoulders drooped. "Go ahead." Now that he thought about it, his Aunt May had picked up an extra shift today, and wouldn't be home until late that night. She would have been more reasonable to deal with, though, and he and Principal Morita both knew it.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Hall and the Thompsons showed up at almost the same time, and immediately started in on their kids, trying to find out what had happened and who was at fault. After their boys muttered a few answers, the Thompsons were glancing at Peter in surprise and glaring at the Halls. The Halls were glaring at Peter and at the Thompsons in turn. Fantastic, thought Peter. And the life of this party hadn't even shown up yet.

Mr. Morita came out and was trying to calm everyone, stating that they needed everyone present to move forward. Just after that, the door opened, and everyone stopped talking. Because Mr. Tony Stark, in all his 3-piece-suit glory (awesome - he'd probably been in a board meeting or something) stepped through the office door, immediately making everyone else look and feel underdressed.

"Mr. Stark," said Principal Morita, straightening his shoulders, "thank you for coming."

Mr. Stark completely ignored the principal, zeroing in on Peter, and crouching down in front of him, and raised a hand towards Peter's face. "Let's see it, bud," he said softly. Peter rolled his eyes a little, but removed the ice pack so Mr. Stark could assess the damage. He knew his eye was black, but was nervous that it might be starting to heal already, which is one reason he'd left the ice on so long.

Tony's face (because at this moment, he was very much Tony, checking on his kid, and having feelings about whoever had hit him) settled into a mask of indifference, which Peter knew was more dangerous than showing any real reaction. The man smoothed Peter's hair back gently, and touched his cheek with a finger. "Let's keep that ice on, okay, Pete?" Yeah, it must be starting to heal. Crap. They needed to wrap this up.

Flash's eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his head. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson looked nonplussed, and both Halls looked like they were suddenly unsure what was about to happen. Principal Morita looked like he was bracing himself, because he was no dummy.

Mr. Stark stood up and turned to face the room. "So what's the story here?" His gaze and voice were both icy. His vibe said he was running the meeting, and the other adults responded accordingly.

Morita swallowed. "Trevor?" Trevor Hall was silent, but his mother spoke up in a shrill, venomous voice. "That boy over there twisted my Trevor's arm up behind his back, and probably broke it."

Tony glanced at Peter, and Peter pursed his lips, shaking his head minutely. Unfortunately, he knew what a wrist felt like when it broke in that hold, and he hadn't pushed it that far. Bruised and probably strained? For sure. But not broken. Tony smiled grimly and returned his attention to the angry mother.

"How exactly did that happen? Because Peter here is definitely not into starting fights. Or, even into standing up for himself, actually," he said, frowning back at Peter. It was a running argument between them.

Trevor opened his mouth hesitantly, about to respond, when his mother shushed him. "He said that Peter kid, who's here on scholarship," she hissed, looking confused about Tony Stark's involvement with said student, "got involved in a discussion between him and another student, and just attacked him. Trevor didn't even speak to him before."

Peter had never had much of a poker face, and today was no exception. He knew Mr. Stark could already see that wasn't true.

But it was Flash Thompson who opened his mouth and surprised them all. "That's not what happened!" He sighed, then said, "Hall's been after me since he transferred here and school started a few weeks ago. I don't know why."

Mmm, Peter knew why. It's because Trevor had decided he was going to be at the top of the pecking order at his new school, and Flash and his buddies were in the way.

Flash continued, "Today he was getting up in my face again, and Parker told Hall to knock it off." Flash looked completely surprised at that last sentence, even though he was the one who'd said it.

"Hall turned around and hit Parker in the face." Tony's eyes narrowed slightly. Flash continued more quietly, "Then Hall slammed my head into the lockers, and Peter twisted his hand up behind his back before he could do it again."

Flash was done talking. His parents weren't sure what to say or do, but Mr. Thompson was glaring at Trevor Hall now, while Mrs. Thompson was shooting unbelieving looks at Peter. She was usually the only one who came down to the office, so she knew her kid had been trouble for Peter in the past. Tony glanced at Peter, who nodded to corroborate Flash's story.

Mr. Thompson was breathing fire around the words "lawsuit," when Mr. Morita interrupted. "As no one reported Mr. Thompson putting his hands on anyone, he is free to go home with you. But with a warning to avoid future altercations, or to involve a teacher before it gets to this point." Flash and Peter rolled their eyes almost in sync, and accidentally met each other's gaze. Awkward.

"Since we don't know for sure what happened with Mr. Parker and Mr. Hall, they are both facing-"

"Hold on a dang second," Mr. Stark said. "Don't we have surveillance in those halls? Because I'm pretty sure I paid for updated surveillance cameras throughout the whole school." Because I have a dumb kid who refuses to fight back, he didn't say.

"Oh, uh, yes, but we tend to let the kids speak for themselves in these cases," Morita stuttered, "since no one was seriously injured…"

"Only because Peter interfered," Mr. Stark said firmly. "And where were the teachers?"

"Uh… it was during lunch. Everyone was at the cafeteria?"

"Let's pull up the footage, shall we?" asked Mr. Stark.

"I'm afraid I don't actually know how. But I can ask for someone from IT to come down," he said, his eyes flicking to the phone on his desk.

"No need," said Tony. "FRIDAY, be a dear and bring up the relevant footage from this afternoon," he said to his phone, while opening up another app which he used to both turn on the screen in Morita's outer office, and to seamlessly mirror his screen. And before FRIDAY pulled the footage up, (Peter knew she was faster than that, so it seems like she did it on purpose) everyone in the room saw that Mr. Stark's homescreen was a picture of him and Peter giving the camera a goofy look. Great, FRIDAY. Thanks.

Flash was looking at Peter incredulously again, and Trevor was just glaring at the TV screen, knowing what it was going to show.

The adults and students in the room all watched in silence as the story Flash had told was played out on the screen. The audio wasn't necessary. Trevor was obviously the perpetrator, first threatening Flash and holding him against the lockers while he pushed his finger into the smaller boy's chest, then turning and clocking Peter viciously in the face when he grabbed Trevor's sleeve, trying to stop him from manhandling Flash. Yeah, that had hurt. His spider sense had told him it was coming, but it was so fast he couldn't really duck without giving away his super reflexes.

But Trevor turned back and grabbed Flash with both hands, slamming his head against the lockers hard enough that the boy seemed to stagger. Trevor had then taken a better hold, preparing to do it again, when somehow Peter was there, grabbing his left arm and twisting it up behind his back, forcing the much larger kid to his knees. It was a move Tony had shown him, which used leverage instead of strength, so it wouldn't look out of place if he used it to incapacitate a larger assailant when out of the suit. Tony met Peter's glance with a wink of his own to see it done so perfectly.

Then a teacher had finally shown up, at which point Peter immediately released Trevor, and FRIDAY ended the footage.

Mr. Morita looked a little green. Mrs. Hall had stopped talking and was shooting murderous glances at her son, and Mr. Thompson was muttering about charges again. Mrs. Thompson looked like she was actually worried about Flash for the first time.

"Peter, do you want to press charges?" Tony was looking at him. He shook his head. "You sure?" Mrs. Hall had gone white.

"No, sir."

"Morita, I'm taking my kid and going. E-mail me if your handbook says anything about mandatory detention or suspension, or whatever, and we'll deal with it. But I want to get that eye looked at." Morita didn't reply.

Tony held out his hand, and Peter accepted the unneeded help to stand. "Got your backpack?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let's go then." Peter saw Tony meet Flash's eye with a raised eyebrow. "Mr. Thompson." Flash looked down. Tony Stark was a master of nonverbal communication when he wanted to be. He nodded at the adults in the room, ignoring Trevor completely, and shepherded Peter out the door.

Soon they were seated in Tony's car, a random Maserati, and leaving the school in a squeal of tires. "Mr. Stark, is this new?" Tony waved off the question.

"How's the eye, kid?"

"Um." Peter remembered he didn't need to keep the ice pack on it anymore, and let it fall to his lap. "It's not too bad. Doesn't hurt much anymore."

"Why'd you let him land that, kiddo?"

"He was pretty fast. I couldn't really duck and not have it be suspicious."

"I wish you would've though," Tony said, shooting an aggrieved look at Peter's eye.

"Well, someone installed really good cameras in the halls, unfortunately, and while FRIDAY has edited a few other Spider-ish indiscretions for us, stuff like this is likely to be pulled up and looked at, so…"

Tony sighed. "So you're saying this is my fault?"

"No, Mr. Stark, I-"

"Kidding, Pete. An unfortunate side effect, I guess." Tony was quiet for a few minutes.

"I want you to know I'm proud of you."

"Huh?"

"That Flash kid was a thorn in your side the last couple years at least, according to May. Then you turn around and defend him. To the point of personal harm, actually."

Peter started to open his mouth in protest or explanation.

"Hush. The adult is complimenting you." Peter rolled his eyes. Tony used that one a lot, it seemed. What was he going to say to get Peter to stop talking when Peter was also an adult, he wondered.

"You're a good kid. The best. At that age there's no way I would've stepped in to stop something like that. Heck, I'd probably have cheered if one of my bullies was getting their comeuppance." Peter frowned at that. He didn't like to think about Mr. Stark dealing with stuff like that when he was young. Peter was Spiderman. He could handle it. "I'm not completely certain I'd make the right decision even now, in my mature, enlightened state."

Peter snorted at that, and Tony eyed him.

"Anyway, I guess I'm saying, 'don't change.' Not that part of you. That's the stuff that's going to make you the best of us all someday. And I just… I look up to you kid. Don't let the world jade you, okay?"

Peter sat there, not sure what to say. The awkward silence was growing thick when Tony hit a red light, and looked over to meet Peter's wide eyes, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder, and finish with an extra-gentle swipe of his hair. "Yeah, enough sentiment. You want some celebratory ice cream?"

"Celebratory? What are we celebrating?"

"Your epic take-down. And you didn't even break the guy's wrist, though he probably deserved it. I told you I was proud of you. And just think: if that Hall kid doesn't shape up, he'll get expelled, and I'll bet Thompson will think twice before picking on you, at least for a week or two. School should be cake for a while. Celebrations all around."

"You really think he'd get expelled?" Pete asked with a contemplative glance. Trevor had been bad news for more kids than just Flash. He hadn't even started in on Peter's level of the social ladder yet.

"Oh, kid. I can guarantee it."