The next day, Tony told Peter to try on the suit and report to the Avengers training facility. "We need to test the suit's properties."
"No, let me get ahold of Spider-Man. I think he should be the one to test it," Peter deferred. "I can get ahold of him easily. I think he can be here in about an hour."
"Are you sure?" Tony was a bit frustrated, but if it meant the suit got into the right hands, by all means.
"He's a bit gun shy regarding his identity," Peter warned. "He doesn't want anyone knowing who he is. If he thinks this is a trap, he won't show. May I have penthouse access so I can give it to him?"
"How do you know who he is?" Tony asked, a bit suspiciously. He watched Peter closely, gauging his reaction.
"Simple. I caught him changing in an alley," Peter said. "Doesn't mean I know who he is, though. All I've ever really seen is the mask."
The answer satisfied Tony, and he agreed.
Spider-Man showed up an hour later, fully dressed out. "Gee, thanks, Mr. Stark! The suit is great! It fits so much better than the spandex! I feel 100 percent more protected!"
"Put it through its paces," Tony ordered, notepad in hand. He was diligently noting things when Bruce walked up to him.
"I got a message from Pete," he told Tony. "He didn't want to bother you, but he had an assignment to finish and figured you wouldn't mind. Something about some stupid family project his biology teacher had assigned."
"Oh, yeah," Tony said, nodding his head. "He was supposed to build a family tree replete with baby pictures. Tell him it's ok."
An hour after his training session, Peter finally had the time to devote to his assignment, but he was frustrated beyond belief. He had both hands in his hair and had a tight grip. He couldn't find any baby pictures. Not one single, solitary one. He carefully let go of his hair, and texted Tony.
Peter:
Do I have your permission to use the age regression software?
Tony:
Why?
Peter:
Can't find my baby pics. Must have lost them in the fire.
Tony:
Ok
That was a huge relief for Peter. He selected a couple of pictures, one from the zoo, another from the beach, and started the program. While he was running it, he grabbed the copy of his birth certificate and added it to the pile. As he looked at it, something about the paper looked vaguely off. He got on his computer and hacked into the database of the hospital listed.
Even later in the day, Peter had a sick feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't been born at that hospital. He felt fear welling inside him, fear like he hadn't even felt with his foes. It was fear born from loss. He folded his hands and rested his forehead on them. Tears streamed down his face, and he tried to stem them because he was sitting in a public area. Pepper was walking by, noticed his quiet distress and sat down.
"Peter, what's wrong?" She laid an elegant hand on his head and ruffled his soft hair. "I've never seen you like this before."
"My birth certificate appears to be a forgery" he said softly. "There are no records of an adoption. Just what is going on? My life is going on?"
"Oh, Peter," she said softly. "That's terrible. Have you spoken to May about this?"
"She wouldn't know," Peter told her. "Mom and Dad kept Ben and May out of their lives for the most part. They were mainly emergency babysitters. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."
Pepper nodded vaguely. She had a meeting to go to, but she couldn't help but worry about Peter. She managed to put him out of her mind and focus on the task at hand. Peter decided that he needed Flash's help.
"Hey, can I come over and get your help with our assignment? I've hit some roadblocks," Peter admitted.
"What? The genius needs my help?" Flash teased. "Sure, I'll be right over. It shouldn't take long because the traffic is light. I love driving on Saturdays."
Flash waited for Peter to come down, then sped away in his little sports car. "By the way, you look like hell."
"Gee, thanks, I think." Peter snipped. Once they got to Flash's house, he handed him the papers he had, and they sat on the luxurious couch.
"Pete, I don't know what to tell you," Flash said at last, rubbing his eyes. "This is some seriously screwed up shit."
"I'm gonna just ignore it," Peter decided. "I've got my pictures fixed up and she's not a computer nerd. Hopefully she won't notice. I'll try my best to avoid turning in these pictures."
"That sounds like a good idea," Flash agreed. They both fell asleep on the the couch and woke up late the next morning. Flashes housekeeper drove them to school, and they made it there by the skin of their teeth.
"Mr. Parker. How nice of you to join us on time," Mr. Worthington sniffed. "Living in the tower suits you. It's been making you more responsible."
Peter wanted to tell him off in the worst possible way, but he bit his tongue. The swift kick Flash aimed at his ankle helped him reign in his temper as well.
Biology, his favorite class, did not go well. It was the last class of the day, and Dr. Cross held him back. "I want to talk to you about your assignment," she said icily.
Inwardly, Peter gulped, but he schooled himself to be a rock. He didn't let his fear show on his face but stood stonily in front of her.
"I asked for baby pictures," she hissed, waving his photos at him. "Just what are these?"
Peter looked at the pictures; one of him at the beach, wrapped in a blanket, the other at the zoo in his little red sweater in front of the money exhibit.
"My baby pictures burned up in a fire," he said flatly. "I took two photos and used Stark age regression technology to give you what you insisted you needed, or you would fail me."
Principal Morita entered the room just then. He'd been listening in on their conversation and didn't like what he was hearing. He knew Parker's temper and wanted to moderate.
Happy and Tony showed up at the same time. Tony took Principal Morita aside and spoke quietly with him, and Morita grimaced. "As if he hasn't been through enough already," he said glumly. "May was good people. I heard about the shooting at the airport. I never dreamed something like this would happen to one of my students."
"Ms. Cross, Mr. Stark needs to talk to Mr. Parker," Principal Morita said, cutting her off mid-rant, but she had a full head of steam.
"Don't think your working relationship with Mr. Stark is going to get you out of this, Mr. Parker. I'm failing you for cheating and suspending you."
Peter could see Tony getting angry and he calmly replied, "It's amazing how adding a few letters to someone's last name significantly lowers their IQ."
The room grew deathly quiet. Principal Morita was the first to speak." You just earned yourself a two-week suspension." Tony and Happy grabbed him and steered him out of the classroom, leaving the teacher sputtering in anger.
Once they were in the car, Tony released the breath he'd been holding in. "That was wrong on so many levels, Peter. Funny, but wrong." He turned serious then, and Peter's mouth went suddenly dry. The cabin of the car felt as if it were crushing in upon him.
"There was a shooting at the airport this morning. I'm sorry but May didn't make it. She died at medbay,"
Happy looked at the back seat through his mirror and watched Peter shut down before his eyes, then lean forward and put his head in his hands. His shoulders started shaking with silent sobs. Tony laid a hand on his back and Peter curled himself against Tony, still sobbing. He cried himself to sleep, and Tony didn't have the heart to wake him. He gathered him in his arms and stood.
"He weighs a lot more than he looks like he does," he said in surprise, staggering slightly. "He must be all muscle."
Happy reached up and gently squeezed Peter's bicep. His eyes widened and he nodded. "I'd say he's a middleweight. Yeah, he's all muscle."
"I'm taking him to the penthouse," Tony said. He carried Peter through the nearly empty lobby.
Pepper watched him lay Peter down and cover him up. "Do you realize that if our Peter had lived, he'd be the same age as Peter?" She hugged Tony and kissed him softly. "How did he take the news?"
"He cried, of course, and fell asleep on me. Oh, and he massively burned his teacher," Tony told her, kissing her hair. "He said that it was amazing how adding a few letters after someone's name lowered their IQ."
Pepper snorted. "You used to say that all the time," she reminded him. "Great minds think alike."
Happy came up with Peter's assignment and put it on the dresser in his room. "He sure was a cute little thing. I can't believe that woman is going to fail him just because he didn't have any baby pictures."
"Like Peter said, she's lost IQ points," Tony murmured.
Peter found himself trapped in a dream. He was trapped and water was threatening to cover his head. He didn't panic, just reached down and unbuckled himself. He found himself floating to the top of what he realized was the roof of a car. Dirty river water continued to stream in, and he knew he was going to drown. As he was screaming, the rear window shattered, and a metallic hand and arm reached in and drug him out of the rapidly sinking car.
Peter woke with a gasp and tried to sit up. He let out a muffled squeak. He was completely tangled in the bedding and had wedged himself at the end of the bed.
Pepper was passing by and heard something. She opened the door and found a pathetic mound with a still, quiet voice.
"Help. I can't get myself untangled," Peter moaned. He tried to get his arms loose and huffed in frustration.
"Oh, Petey honey, let me help you," Pepper said, coming over to help. Tony came over and they flanked him, unwrapping him like a mummy. "Did you have a bad dream?"
"I was in a sinking car," Peter said, voice muffled. "I unlatched my car seat and floated to the roof, but I was drowning. Then this metal arm smashed through the back window and pulled me out. It's always the same dream over and over. I have it every time I get upset. Then I get feverish."
Peter's sweaty face and curly hair finally appeared; his hazel eyes were glassy from crying and his nose was red and slightly runny. He felt and looked like a child.
"Come on, sport, let's get you something to eat," Tony said, helping him off the bed.