For some reason my brain thought it would be a good idea to start a completely new story, and an AU at that. And it's my birthday today, so I really wanted to figure out the whole plot so I could start posting the chapters I have written already, and I finally did it!
Thanks to junker5 and kingdomfaraway for helping talk me through it and reading parts for me!
"Because we are playing with mysterious forces, my child, that we know nothing about. I do not think they are evil. They may be good. They may even be divine. But whether they are or not, let us handle them carefully."
- Roald Dahl's "Matilda"
Peter Parker's best friend didn't get up on a soapbox very often, but today he was fired up.
"Dude, don't you think you should tell your parents about this? I mean, isn't that kinda their thing? Don't they like, deal with changing DNA and stuff all the time? Maybe they could help." Ned was obviously worried about him, with good cause after the last two weeks.
Peter looked up tiredly from where he'd been staring at his new sneakers as they walked. The ones he'd ordered last week when his old ones got a hole in them. Most kids would be ecstatic if their parents just threw a credit card at them to buy whatever they needed, but when it was accompanied with " Can you please stop bothering me about stuff like this and just take care of yourself? You're fifteen, Peter, seriously," it kind of lost its shine. And he was only fourteen. He scuffed the ground a little more aggressively.
Peter sighed. "Ned, where do you think that spider came from that bit me? The one that has got to be behind all these crazy mutations that keep popping up?" He'd gotten his hand stuck to his notebook again today at school, and Ned had covered for him while he ran to the restroom and did some deep breathing until it finally released. Enhanced senses had been the first clue, and he'd been convinced he was going mad that first 48 hours as they seemed to pop in and out at will. Now that they'd settled in, it was just a matter of not getting overwhelmed by them.
The crazy strength had been next, but he'd mostly gotten the hang of not breaking things. Sticking to things was new, and he didn't quite have a handle on it yet. He tried not to think about changes that may be next, and also tried not to be completely terrified, not knowing what might happen to him.
Ned's voice interrupted his rapid-fire thoughts. "Oh, you were at Oscorp, right?"
"Yeah, where they're doing that joint study on arachnid DNA. The spider was from their lab. And if they find out they have their very own successful human trial subject, do you really want to take bets on what might happen to me?"
"Peter, they're your parents. They're not going to like… let anyone actually experiment on you."
"I keep forgetting you haven't met them," Peter said quietly, his voice bitter.
"Yeah, I guess not," Ned admitted. "Just May and Ben, since we always went to their house." Then he brightened. "You're coming over today, right?" Peter had been spending most of his afternoons and evenings at Ned's house since school started several months before, and in some ways he felt like it had saved him. Ned's parents were kind and comfortable, and always asked him how he was doing, and if he wanted food.
"Not today. I have… something I need to do."
"Hey, May, Ben." Peter tried to smile as he set his backpack down. "Sorry I haven't made it here for a couple weeks. I've been trying so hard to get along with my mom and dad, like you asked me to, but it's not going well. Things have been… weird, lately, and Ned thinks I should tell them about it, but when I think about doing it, I get this crazy feeling, like it's… not safe? I don't know."
Peter tucked his face into his arms, which were in a pile on top of his knees, and tried to force back the burning behind his eyes.
"Uncle Ben? Any advice for dealing with your brother?" Peter tried to joke. "I am trying. But I just… I really miss you guys," he said, his voice cracking a bit as he blinked at the plain gray headstones. "I mean, tomorrow is… is… it'll be six months since your accident, and it still feels like you've got to be there, somewhere, and it's just almost time for me to go see you again. Like maybe if they go on a trip, I'll be at your house again, you know? I mean, on their last trip, they did let me stay at Ned's, so that was cool. But before that they made me go with them once, because they had nowhere to send me, and it was awful, and I got so behind in school, even though I got lots of my work ahead of time. But that didn't matter to them. It did matter that having me along cramped their style, so thankfully I don't think they're going to do that again," he said ruefully. "I've been talking to them about just letting me stay by myself next time. So that would be cool, right?"
He laid back in the cold, leaf-covered ground, grimacing at the dampness. The sky was pretty this afternoon (evening?) though, and it wasn't actually that cold outside yet.
"I mean, I could totally do it. It's not like they do stuff for me now. I make the grocery order most of the time anyway. I already ride the train to school." He sighed and stared back at the grey squirrel who was eying him suspiciously from the tree. He wondered if he had a granola bar left in his bag that he could share with it. He had to be sure to leave in time to get home before it was too dark. He sat up and reached for his backpack. The squirrel climbed higher and chittered at him disapprovingly.
"Guys, your apartment was so much closer to Midtown. I was really looking forward to living with you during the school week again because of that," he said as he dug through his bag. "My parents were, too, I think. Then they wouldn't have to deal with any of the school stuff, or with even having me around."
As if she was right there, Peter could almost hear Aunt May scolding him, much like the squirrel, telling him that of course his parents liked having him around.
"It's not true, though, May. It was better before, when I was just there sometimes. It was like they actually noticed me, and even talked to me sometimes when I was with you guys so much. But now…"
Peter sighed, looking up at a stray cloud. He remembered the short conversation he'd had that morning with his dad. The dad who'd insisted Peter start calling them 'Richard' and 'Mary' about the same time Aunt May and Uncle Ben's car accident, when Peter moved back in with them full-time.
He set his bag aside in defeat. "Sorry little guy," he called. "Or girl? I must have eaten it. No snacks today."
Technically, Peter had never actually moved out, but he'd spent much more of his life in May and Ben's rag-tag, love-filled little apartment in Queens than he had with his parents in Manhattan. Most of the school year, except weekends. Half the holidays, or they'd joined them at least. Almost all of summer vacation, usually. That was peak travel research time for his parents.
His mind wandered freely, but Peter tried to turn it back to analyzing what his dad—Richard—had said this morning.
Peter had made the mistake of mentioning the classes he was choosing for next semester, and how there'd been a scheduling conflict with his Mechanical Engineering class, but how he was happy they'd gotten it worked out. His schoolwork was the only thing he'd ever had any luck talking to his parents about. They did like that he was smart, but unfortunately had opinions about what he spent his time and energy on. When they remembered they had a son, they expected him to follow in their careers in biology or at least biochem or genetics, and had very little patience with his interest in engineering.
"Are you still seriously wasting time on that, Peter?" his father had asked in annoyance, actually looking at him for the first time that morning. He'd been hunched over his laptop, going over test results from the night before, and Peter honestly didn't think Richard had even noticed Peter was talking or even in the room until that moment.
"Um, it's just one of the science options. I really like the teacher? I'm in Organic Chemistry, too," he'd said quickly. "And Advanced Biology."
His father had frowned disapprovingly over the top of his laptop. "What about math?"
"I'm in Cal II, so that just continues. It's just my electives that change mid-year, but that's what caused the scheduling conflict," Peter had said quietly, wishing he hadn't brought it up. "I was in Foods for Today, but it's just a semester class, so now it's, uh… Contemporary Dance." He said the last part as he took a bite of his toast, hoping his dad might have lost interest.
"What?" Fantastic. That had really gotten his attention.
"We have to take some social sciences, and humanities, and P.E. and stuff for graduation, Dad," Peter had said. Another annoyed glare. "I mean, Richard."
"Tell me again why you're wasting time at this public high school when you could be doing college courses online?" Richard had challenged, peering over the tops of his glasses.
"It's not just a normal high school; it's a magnet school, and it's the top science school in the city," Peter had protested lightly. "You know that," he'd finished more humbly.
"Hmm," his father had said, attention returning to his laptop as Peter's mother had breezed through. She'd smiled woodenly at Peter, asking him how he was. Social pleasantries and all. (Peter felt like her smiles had been more real when he was little. Had he imagined that?) Then she'd ignored him as she asked Richard a few questions about their trials the night before. She had gotten a Greek yogurt from the fridge, and hadn't acknowledged him after that. Peter carefully had not brought up school again, but had eaten quietly and gotten out of there in time to catch the train, where he'd spend the next 30 minutes traveling to school.
It's not that his parents hated him. Sometimes they even seemed to care, especially his mother. They just weren't very aware of him most of the time. Until the moment that he inconvenienced their work or their lives. Then they were disgruntled and annoyed, but seldom angry. But also seldom helpful. He was constantly aware that he hadn't been planned or wanted in their life. He was just a complicating side-note. An intelligent one, sure, but their interest in him had always seemed more academic than anything.
Uncle Ben had gone rounds with his brother to get Peter enrolled at Midtown that year instead of just getting his GED and starting college early, which is what Mary and Richard had been leaning towards. They thought high school a colossal waste of (their) time, and Mary had found it especially un-enjoyable, as an exceptionally smart girl, in a time when that was even less accepted. They had only conceded when Ben had cited some studies that showed poor outcomes, including academic burnout, for kids who skipped ahead very far and missed out on age-appropriate interaction. Social skills were also a thing, he insisted. And it had been Mary who finally talked Richard into it, "because he'll need to know how to deal with difficult people and project leads. What better place to learn than in a high school? It's a pretty good one, and the teachers are all well-credentialed. I don't think it'll set him back much. Just an extra year or two." Richard Parker had a lot of strong opinions, but he tended to defer to Mary when it involved dealing with Peter. Ben swore to Peter that Richard and Mary also cared about him, but Peter rarely saw any sign of it these days.
Richard had finally conceded on the high school subject, but it was still a sore point. Without Ben and May to help, Peter felt like he was constantly in danger of being pulled from his friends and his life at Midtown, and being subject to his parents' whims and plans for his education. His best bet on that front was to keep his head down. They mostly ignored him unless he did something to draw their attention.
An hour later it was dark, and Peter walked the two blocks from his stop to his building.
"Hey Devon," he greeted the doorman.
"Hey yourself, Peter. Good day?"
"Yeah, decent."
"You go to the cemetery today?"
Peter paused, his eyes widening. "How'd you know?"
"You just got that look about cha. Tell 'em 'hi' for me next time, yeah?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
He rode the elevator up alone, the silence only interrupted by his own broken sigh.
He entered the quiet apartment, turning on lights as he went, and listening for, but not expecting any signs of life. Sometimes he really wished they had a cat or something. He had asked a few times as a kid, but knew better now.
He turned on the light in the main living area. May and Ben's whole apartment could have fit in here, but he'd always preferred being there any day of the week. Their decorator was good, and it looked warm and inviting, but it was just a façade.
Peter sighed and pulled one of the pre-made meals from the delivery service out of the fridge, then paused and removed a second one. He wondered if his parents had noticed that he'd been eating more. He was just so hungry all the time, and had been blowing through the allowance on his card, ordering extra food at school in the last ten days. He stuck them both in the large countertop convection oven, not waiting for it to pre-heat. He set a timer on his phone to remind him to rotate them. He had gotten pretty good at instant meal math. Accounting for a second meal had been a welcome problem that he'd already mastered.
He sat down at the countertop and pulled his homework out, then saw the yellow sticky note on the fridge. Huh. His parents didn't often leave notes, though they'd text him their plans if they thought about it. Which was maybe half the time.
Working late. Do your homework. Suit in your room. Try it on, call the number on it if it doesn't fit. You're going to the Stark Gala tomorrow night with us.
Well, that was odd. Peter could count on one hand how many events his parents had taken him to. He and Ned had planned to have a movie marathon tomorrow night. They couldn't have asked him, or at least given him more notice.
But the Stark Gala. Would Tony Stark be there? Peter knew his parents didn't think much of him as a person, as entrenched in the mechanical sciences as he was. They also disapproved of his "showboating" as a self-made superhero, but Peter knew they valued his technology and equipment. Peter and Ben, however, had followed his career, both as Iron Man, and as one of the greatest inventors of his age, for years. A chance to see or even meet Tony Stark? That would be… well, worth trying on that suit, at least.