Peter's parents had been pleased when a letter from Stark Industries arrived several weeks later. Peter had been accepted into the new Stark Industries intern program, starting next week. The news had come in a beautiful dark blue envelope with packets of information and forms to fill out, and they were both looking through everything. Peter was actually pretty excited himself, but was feeling a little unsure about it all, and hadn't actually gotten to read any of the information yet, except the schedule, which had just been handed to him as they finished with it.
"Oh, it's several afternoons a week. And it will interfere with Academic Decathlon," he said slowly. They were all eating dinner together (Vietnamese), around the kitchen table, which was strange, but kind of nice. It's not like he was planning to turn down such an amazing opportunity, but he did have mixed feelings. He loved AcaDec with his friends. Unfortunately his parents didn't give him a chance to work through it himself.
"Peter, don't be ridiculous. Of course this takes priority. Having an 'in' with Stark Industries could be very useful for us currently, and for your future career," his father said. "Not that you'll be doing that kind of work, but networking is important if you want access to the equipment you'll eventually need."
"Uh, I know, I just—"
"We'll fill out the paperwork and send it back in. Sign here, dear," his mother said, pushing the paperwork and a pen towards him.
Peter did as he was told, signing and sliding the paperwork back to his mother. He was excited about the internship; he was, and he was even excited to tell MJ and Ned, if a little nervous about their reaction to the news that he'd have to drop out of Acadec for now. But Stark Industries… he actually had no idea what he'd even do there as an intern. For all he knew, he'd be shredding paper and running errands, and trying not to screw up coffee orders. May wouldn't even let him drink coffee yet; how was he going to make sure everyone's order was right? He stressed about that for at least 20 seconds before realizing it was pointless. And that no one was going to stop him from trying coffee anymore if he wanted to. But he stayed hopeful. Why would they have cared if the applicants had top marks and creative ideas if they were just going to use them to do menial gofer-type tasks?
"Good, it's settled," his father said. "Peter, make sure you take care of your dishes," he admonished before wandering off to his office, his food only halfway eaten on his plate. Mary looked at it in consternation for just a moment, but soon went back to her phone, looking through equations and e-mails as she finished eating. She didn't speak to him again, but gave him a distracted smile when he got up and cleaned up his eating area. She didn't notice when he headed into his room, and never checked to see what he was up to once he was there. As usual, he filled his evening with video chatting with Ned and MJ. He's not sure what he would have done without them if they hadn't all gotten into Midtown together. They'd met in the accelerated junior high program nearby, and they'd been so supportive and helpful when he lost May and Ben.
His friends were surprisingly excited about the Stark internship, and even MJ didn't harangue him about dropping out of Decathlon. ("temporarily!") He couldn't think of anything he'd done to deserve such amazing, chill friends (they'd helped him freak out less over all the spider-symptoms, too) but he was one lucky guy.
Ned had to get off the call first, and then it was just Peter and MJ, mostly doing their own thing (homework for him, painting for her) silently on either end of the call. She had a funny expression on her face though, different from her usual look of concentration.
"What's up, Em?"
"What do you mean?" she asked evenly.
"You've got that look on your face, where you have something to say, but you're holding back."
She narrowed her eyes briefly at him.
"Okay," she said slowly. "I'm not so sure about Tony Stark. I know he's made some changes in the last few years, and Pepper Potts is doing amazing things with his company with fair labor initiatives and green energy, but I'm just… I worry about you. I don't know if he's actually a good guy, you know? Before I'd have said 'no way,' but now I guess it's possible?"
"Come on, I probably won't even be working with him. I might not even see him after all this."
"But he talked to you for a while at his party-thing."
"Yeah, but just because we were both out there. Honestly, I didn't feel like he likes my parents any more than they like him. I'm really surprised I got in."
"Maybe he didn't make the decisions himself?"
"Yeah, that makes sense. But he acted like he'd be involved. He said he'd be looking for my application."
"Huh. Well, who knows. Anyways, I hope he is reformed, and might actually teach you some stuff, because honestly you're one of the best, smartest people I know, Pete, and you deserve it," she said firmly, carefully looking at the small canvas she was working on instead of at him.
"Wow! Uh… thanks, MJ." Peter said, a little blown away at her candor. "It's better than being home or imposing on Ned all the time, anyway," he finished.
Her eyes sharpened. "Ned doesn't think you're imposing."
"Oh. Right… I mean, I know, just… I'm excited to have somewhere else to go, too."
"Yeah, I guess I understand that. When does it start?"
"In a week, I think, if all the paperwork goes through. I don't know if there's anyone else from Midtown that got in. We'll have to see, I guess?"
"Yeah, maybe. I doubt it, though Flash was sure he'd be accepted."
"I can't decide if that would be better than just going alone," Peter joked.
"Definitely worse," his friend smiled at him. "I've gotta go. 'Night, Peter. Sleep well?"
"Yeah, you too."
Peter closed his laptop. He padded into the bathroom next door and pulled his toothbrush out. All of a sudden, he was kind of exhausted. His energy seemed to come and go a little, like the rest of his new powers. Sometimes he could barely hold still, but then at the end of the day he often felt like he needed to sleep for a week.
In the quiet, he could hear his parents talking back and forth in their room (as well as a whole muttered cacophony of sounds from the other apartments and even from outside). When his senses had started kicking in and he could hear them talking, it had seemed like something forbidden, but what could he do? At the same time, he was intrigued. What did they say about him when he wasn't around? After a day or two, though, he'd stopped worrying about it. They still only talked about their work. They never even mentioned him, at least not that he'd heard.
He stumbled into his room and peeled his t-shirt off, collapsing into bed. He curled up in a ball, pulling his big comforter almost over his head. There in the quiet, he wrapped his arms tightly around himself, wishing desperately it was someone else's arms holding him close. Fourteen-year-olds didn't need to be hugged, though. He was too old for stuff like that. He was pretty sure his parents used to hug him when he was little, but he only had a few flashing memories of it. If it was even them. But Ben and May had ignored him when he'd told them he was too old at 11, and at 12, and at 13, and they had hugged him anyway, all the time. And they'd brushed his hair back, and squeezed his shoulders, and tickled his back, and just touched him all the time, like he was their own kid.
But now he was 14, and there was no one to tell him he wasn't too old for it any more. Because he was. That was kid stuff, and he didn't need it from his parents. Ned and MJ hugged him sometimes, and that was enough. It had to be enough. Peter held his breath and clenched his eyes closed tightly, but a few tears leaked out anyway. He opened them in defeat, and he felt a tear slip down the side of his cheek as he looked at the blurry picture on his bedside table. He had it memorized, and his mind's eye filled in a clearer image of him with his aunt and uncle at his 12th birthday party. His parents were supposed to be there, and finally get to meet Ned and MJ, but something had happened at work, and they never made it.
"Which was fine," Peter said to himself firmly. Then, more quietly, "I miss you guys." He turned his back to the picture and started reaching for sleep, while images from the gala night's events, and—holy cow!—meeting his idol danced through his head.
Flash did not get a Stark internship, and neither did anyone else at Midtown. So two weeks later, Peter rode the subway by himself from school to Stark Tower. As he entered the lobby, he paused and took a deep breath, feeling just a little bit frozen for a moment. Finally, someone came in behind him, and it helped propel him forward to the receptionist at the expansive reception desk. The young man who looked up to greet him had curly dark hair and a pleasant smile.
"Hello. I'm here for the young internship program?"
"Ah. Didn't they tell you to go to the 45th Street entrance?"
"Oh. No, I don't think so? I… my parents didn't say anything," Peter said awkwardly. Why hadn't they told him? Was he really messing up on the first day?
The receptionist looked through some papers on the desk before pulling out a map of the surrounding streets.
"If you'll just go back outside, and walk around to here," he said helpfully, tapping a spot on the opposite side of the building," He paused, and sat back up in his chair. His eyes unfocused as he put a finger to his right ear. Because of Peter's enhanced senses (which he had a better handle on after several more weeks of practice) he'd heard the earpiece engage.
"Julio? Stark here. FRIDAY tells me my intern is here." Julio fumbled a little with the pen he'd been holding.
" Your intern, sir?"
"Yeah. There should be a post-it on your desk. Maybe it fell or something. Send him up to my lab."
"Uh, but all the other interns are going to the fourth floor for processing, sir. Shouldn't he—"
"I'll take care of it. Send him up. We're burnin' daylight, here. Kids have bedtimes and whatnot."
"Um, okay. Yes, sir, of course." The young man turned to Peter with a speculative look. "Mr. Stark is waiting for you upstairs. If you'll go to that elevator to the left, it will take you there. Just listen for directions to the lab." As Peter watched, the elevator's doors opened helpfully.
Peter gulped, and headed towards the elevator, grasping his backpack straps for moral support. As he entered the lift, he heard a nearby guard's soft mutter behind him.
"Good luck, kid."
Alerted by a quiet sound, Tony looked up to see the Parker kid frozen in the doorway of his lab. His eyes were round, and his expression was uncertain.
"Well? Don't just stand there. Come in, and let's get started!"
The kid lurched into the room as if someone had shoved him from behind, and he almost tripped over his own feet. Tony looked at him slightly askance. Despite his test scores, and Tony's own conversation with him, was he sure about his decision to invite Parker up here? Well, no time like the present to find out.
"Set your bag there," he instructed, pointing at his ratty lab couch, "and come over here."
He had devised a few of his own… tests, if you will, to figure out where the kid was at, and if he could think on his feet. The table he called Parker over to held all the basic components for building a miniaturized arc reactor, very like the one in his suits. The kid wasn't exactly fast at doing as he was told, since he was too busy staring at everything in awe, his head swiveling as he muttered exclamations under his breath. Tony tilted his head as he watched the boy take it all in, then snapped his fingers to get his attention, then pointed at the pieces.
"Parker. See if you can get that up and running. You seemed familiar with the technology."
Peter's eyes widened, if that was possible, and he finally smiled a little bit.
"Really? I…" he paused, seeming to take stock of what was available. "I can really build one that works?"
"I don't know if you can, but that's what we're going to find out." The boy glanced at him, looking a little more nervous. Tony was already a little impressed that the boy seemed to know exactly what he was supposed to build with the assortment of pieces.
"If you have questions, you can ask FRIDAY," Tony said lightly. The kid looked confused, but he'd figure it out or he wouldn't. Tony turned his back and walking back over to his own project. He purposefully didn't look back. He'd never had a child in his lab like this, and the uncertainty the boy's crappy parents added to this situation had him a bit (or a lot) on guard. The kid's excitement and obvious awe at all of the equipment and projects in there, however, had touched something in him. Tony remembered feeling the same way looking into some of the labs at MIT at Parker's age. His father's lab had been impressive too, but he'd barely even been allowed at the doorway of that one.
As usual, Tony lost himself quickly in his project, and avoided even paying any attention to the kid. It was hard not to watch and judge his process. He could review the footage later, if the outcome was good. He silently instructed FRIDAY to alert him when 45 minutes had passed. He didn't actually expect a teenager to be able to fully assemble the reactor, especially not in that amount of time, but Tony would be able to tell a lot about his strengths, weaknesses, and ability to problem solve by what he had managed with the tools Tony had left him. It wasn't like he'd given him a stack of puzzle pieces. Everything he'd need was there, but a few things would need to be disassembled to get to the required parts, and there was one especially difficult problem that he'd really have to think around if he wanted to—
"Mr. Stark?"
Tony jumped a little at the unexpected voice at his elbow. He scooted back and turned to look at the boy, glancing at his watch as he did. Anticipating him as always, FRIDAY helpfully displayed her countdown timer. Only 29 minutes had passed.
"Did you give up already? Because I think—"
He was interrupted again as the kid clunked the reactor down on the desk next to him. It was glowing: fully functional.
Tony stared at it for a moment before slowly raising his gaze to Parker's. To Pete r's. There was uncertainty in the boy's big brown eyes, but also challenge.
"Okay, then. Good. Very good." He let his face turn up in a sincere smile, and between that and the praise, Peter smiled as well. The uncertainty was dampened, and there was a little bit of pride there instead. Thinking of how his parents had spoken to, and about this kid, who was obviously a genius, maybe even at Tony's level, Tony poured it on a little more. A little praise never hurt anyone.
"Seriously, kid. Color me impressed." Peter ducked his head, but not fast enough to hide the slight flush on his cheeks, or the shy grin.
"Okay. This next part won't be much a challenge for you, but it's more intern-ish, I think. Can you go help DUM-E over there? I want him to sort out the stuff that's still useful and the stuff that just needs to be recycled, but his decision-making skills are tenuous at best. If you have a question about materials and if we have access to recycling for them, ask FRIDAY. Oh, I guess I didn't introduce her?"
Peter shook his head.
"Say 'hello,' FRI."
"Hello, Peter. It's nice to meet you." Peter jumped slightly at the disembodied voice.
"Hello, Ms. FRIDAY. It's nice to meet you."
Peter looked nervously at what he'd (correctly) identified as one of FRIDAY's cameras, then curiously towards the corner, where DUM-E had been charging. The not-so-little robot had perked up at the mention of his name. Now the bulky robot exited the charging cradle and rolled towards them a little. Tony easily read his "body" language as excited and curious.
"Wow! Is that one of your robots?"
"Not just a robot, but a rudimentary A.I. as well. He can do a lot of things, but he causes as much trouble as he helps. If I don't let him do tasks every day though, he starts pouting."
Peter raised his eyebrows incredulously as he looked between Tony and DUM-E. "Are you serious? And you want me to work with him?" His voice and eyes both showcased his excitement.
"Yeah, go knock yourself out. Just talk to him. He'll understand you, more or less." Then, raising his voice and pointing sternly at his most defiant creation, he said, "D, listen to Peter. Being human, and extremely intelligent, he outranks you. You guys sort through the trash from this week, okay?"
Peter barked out a little laugh as he started towards DUM-E, and Tony was bemused to see him stop and greet the robot, shaking the extended claw awkwardly. DUM-E started rolling towards the indicated corner, beeping softly as he went, and Peter matched his stride to DUM-E's speed.
Over the next hour, Tony was completely bemused and distracted as he listened to the one-sided conversation in the corner. The kid talked to DUM-E as if he was a person, perhaps a bright child, and gently encouraged and scolded in turn as they worked their way through the pile. There was some occasional exasperation, too, and Tony had to shove a fist to his lips to avoid laughing at a few of them.
"DUM-E, no. You can't pick it up like that. It's leaking oil on the floor!"
DUM-E beeped sadly, then Peter very nearly squealed. "Do NOT turn it that way! Look at this mess that—no, buddy. It's okay. It's… it's fine. We'll just clean it up, okay? Where are the rags?"
Tony couldn't keep the grin off his face. FRIDAY buzzed on his phone, and he looked down to see her inquiring about dinner. Oh. Kids got hungry, right? How much time did they have left? It was only 5:30, so an hour? He thought he was supposed to release Peter at 6:30. Pretty sure, anyway. FRIDAY would remind him.
"Parker?"
Peter's head popped up from where he was wiping up the oil, blowing a piece of hair that insisted on falling in his eyes. "Yes, sir?"
"Any allergies? You like pizza?"
Peter just stared for a moment, processing. Then, "Uh, no allergies, and yes, please !"
"How much do you usually eat?"
That prompted a very strange look that Tony couldn't decode.
"I…uh, I'm pretty hungry actually. I usually have a snack after school, but there wasn't time today, cause I just came over here, and—sorry. I can probably eat quite a bit. Anything but mushrooms?"
"Okay, FRI. My regular order, and another extra large triple-meat with peppers and olives for the kid." Then to Peter, "You can take the leftovers home or whatever. Or leave them here for tomorrow. Whatever suits you."
For the third or fourth time that afternoon, Tony had managed to make the kid smile. Really smile. And for some reason, it made him feel pretty good. Mostly people were either really nervous and fake around Tony, or glaring and sighing loudly in exasperation. It was nice to actually make someone happy for once.
Almost an hour later, Tony watched in awe as Peter finished at least two thirds of the giant pizza. He knew teenagers could eat a lot, but he hadn't been around one when it happened. It was impressive.
"You good?" he asked with a grin.
Peter bit his lip in consternation at Tony's obvious amusement.
"Sorry. I told you I was really hungry!"
"You don't have to be sorry, kiddo. I'm just impressed, yet again. If I ate that much I'd have to hit the gym all day tomorrow. I forgot what a gift a teenage metabolism is."
Peter laughed nervously, and went over to wash his hands.
"I guess it's time for you to go. Good work, today. Be here tomorrow. Same time, same place."
Peter turned, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Don't I have to do all the processing stuff?"
"I'll take care of it. Or, one of my assistants will. FRIDAY? Make a note."
"Okay," Peter said slowly, as if he didn't quite believe Tony knew what he was talking about. Teenagers also had overactive levels of sass. At least this one did. He could tell. Tony pursed his lips, looking down at the coding he was doing to hide his smile. He saw Peter gathering up his bag and jacket out of the corner of his eye, and tracked him as he moved to leave.
Peter stopped in the doorway. "Mr. Stark?"
Tony looked up. "Yeah, kid?"
"This was… this was amazing. Thanks so much for having me, sir."
"Um. Yeah. Likewise? See you tomorrow," Tony replied awkwardly. Peter smiled and disappeared from view.
Tony was even more confused at the end of their first session than he'd been at the start of it. Peter was not what he expected. And he had enjoyed having the boy in his lab, which he hadn't anticipated. Fascinating.