Peter gathered the vials of labeled polymers carefully while Happy stood watch. "Do you mind?" Peter bristled at the man's looming presence.
Happy grunted. "Will you go faster if I leave you to it?"
"Yes." Peter lied. He was in no hurry to leave the compound. He was anxious, and Happy was not helping his nerves. Fortunately, the man took him at his word and left to take the packed boxes from Peter's bedroom. Today was the big day. Peter was moving out of the only home he currently remembered. It didn't matter that he'd only been there for a matter of weeks. A matter of weeks was his whole life.
And Tony hadn't even asked Peter's opinion. He hadn't talked to him about it at all. His legal guardian had stopped by just once during the past week, and Peter was sure it was out of obligation to Steve, some official Avengers business.
Peter pulled a pair of goggles over his eyes and grabbed all the necessary glassware to start a new reaction. An experiment would calm his troubled thoughts. With this kind of lab work, there was a prescribed path to follow, exact amounts of chemicals to measure, and – usually – predictable results.
"Peter, if I may offer a suggestion, I believe you're supposed to be packing?" FRIDAY suggested kindly.
"No thanks." Peter responded curtly. He was still a little miffed with FRIDAY for telling on him last week. He ignored her warning and dove back into the experiment. Peter knew the AI wouldn't do anything to stop him unless he was doing something unsafe. Hence the goggles. Lack of goggles was one of many triggers for FRIDAY to cut the power to the lab.
He had been carefully adjusting the formulas for three of his most promising polymers over the past few days. Two were great contenders for Harley's project, and one… well, one was a unicorn. It behaved differently than any compound in his extensive mental filing system. It was strong, and flexible, yet lightweight and thin. It was filamentous like rope. No, like spider silk. It was a lot of fun to play with.
Peter didn't know what he'd do with it. But the compound was intriguing. It hinted at so many possibilities. The reaction mixtures in front of him would produce another batch very similar to the last, but with a higher bond density. Peter hoped that meant that this version would be just as adhesive as it was cohesive.
Peter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. It might come out as utter junk, losing all the interesting characteristics of the original formula. Or, it could be the most interesting thing Peter had ever created up to this point.
He worked his way through the steps of the reaction, quickly disappearing into his own little world, where nothing was stressful and his entire life wasn't constantly up in the air. It was nice while it lasted.
FRIDAY interrupted again. "Peter, you might be interested in knowing that -"
"I'm interested in finishing this experiment." Peter interrupted the AI.
"May I offer you some assistance?"
"No."
FRIDAY was silent.
Peter was so focused on the final step of the process, the slow introduction of reagent A to reagent B, that he didn't even notice Happy return.
"This is the opposite of getting packed!"
Peter jolted at the angry shout, dumping the entire beaker of reactant into the flask all at once. The glass burst on contact as the reaction exploded outward with frightening force. Both Happy and Peter dove for cover with the reflexes of people who'd been shot at before, but it was impossible to avoid the steaming, oozing polymer. It coated them from head to toe.
For a moment neither of them moved, and then Peter reached up to pull oozing goggles off his face.
Happy stood there like a big angry, melting ice cream cone. Peter couldn't see the man's eyes, or any part of his face, actually. But something about Happy's posture made Peter think he should run.
"Uh…Happy?"
The man wiped the lower part of his face to reveal a furious-looking mouth, thin lipped with rage. "What. The. Hell?" He flung the goo from his hand onto the ground, where it bounced like a rubber ball and then stuck to a cabinet door with a splat. Peter frowned at it.
The polymer was rapidly solidifying, and Peter wasn't sure if that was better or worse.
"What is this stuff? Is it dangerous?" Happy's voice took on a wary edge.
"I think we should get it off of you before it sets." Peter grabbed the man's arm, pulling him towards the emergency shower. But when he tried to release his grip, he found he was stuck. The polymer had glued him to Happy.
"Oh, God."
"Oh God, what?" Happy shouted. He tried to pull away from Peter's grasp and froze when he realized he couldn't. "Oh, God." He agreed.
"Okay, it's okay. We just have to, um." Peter cast about the room, trying to think. "Strip?"
"What?"
"I'm stuck to your jacket. Do you think you can wiggle out of it without touching anything else?" If Peter could get free without accidentally touching Happy again, then he could reach the chemicals he needed to create an appropriate solvent.
Happy started wiggling out of his suit jacket, careful not to touch anything, but he was completely blind. So, it should have come as no surprise when he backed into the counter behind him. Peter sighed. It wasn't lost on him that he'd spent an entire week trying to figure out how to get his own innate stickiness to work and here he was, at risk of permanently sticking to literally everything around him.
"Tony's going to fire me." Happy spoke through gritted teeth. His back and arms were stuck to the counter like an angry, buzzing fly stuck to fly tape.
"I'm the one who exploded my reaction all over the lab. He has no reason to be upset with you."
"He's going to fire me because I'm going to kill you."
"Oh."
"How about now?" FRIDAY piped from above. "May I offer assistance now?"
In the end, Sam was the only one in the compound that afternoon, so FRIDAY called him into the lab to help. He was never going to let Peter live this down. But he did at least cut Peter free from Happy's sleeve so he could quickly make a fresh batch of solvent. Once Happy was unglued from the cabinet, Peter set about cleaning the mess from the walls and floors. It took all day, and Happy was livid.
It was dark by the time they drove into the city. Peter looked at the sea of lights before him and contemplated what his new life might be like. There were so many people. So many noises. It was chaos. The whole place seemed to vibrate with energy. Peter felt his own body thrumming to the chaotic tune of it.
The Avengers Tower rose up before them, shiny and brilliant and terrifying. Was Stark there? Pepper? Would he see them, or would Peter be sequestered off on one of the many other floors? Did Happy live at the tower? A frightening thought settled over Peter as he wondered if he was to live with the irritable man. Was Happy responsible for him now? Had Peter been passed off?
Happy pulled into the garage and they left Peter's belongings in the car. "I'll get them after I show you in." Happy grumbled impatiently, waving Peter toward the elevator.
They got out and transferred to another elevator, which required a quick scan of Happy's ID badge. "This is the private elevator that leads to the Avenger's floor and above. You'll get an ID badge tomorrow morning so you can come and go for school."
So, Peter would have free use of the elevator? He considered that on the long ride up. Did that mean he'd be allowed to make his own way to school? Had he earned that freedom or did they simply not care anymore?
The elevator stopped and opened to an airy, comfortable penthouse. Peter froze. This must be the wrong floor, he turned to look at Happy but the man pushed him out of the elevator. "Go on, I'll send up your things."
No sooner than Peter had set foot outside the elevator doors, Happy was on his way back down to the garage.
"Um. Hello?" Peter called out to the space.
"Hello, Peter." FRIDAY answered from above, and reluctant relief flooded his veins. As irritated as he was with FRIDAY, it was still good to hear her voice.
"Hey, FRI." He hated that his voice cracked a little on that greeting. "I didn't know you'd be here, too."
"Of course, Peter. I reside in the servers here at the tower, and I have an extension of myself at the compound, within the Iron Man suits, and now at Harley Keener's garage, as well."
Peter raised his eyebrows at that last one. He didn't know FRIDAY was with Harley, too. But that made sense, after Stark sent a team to overhaul security at the Keener residence. FRIDAY was probably in charge of that new security system.
Peter heard footsteps approaching, and his heart skipped a little when he recognized the familiar sound.
Stark rounded the corner and paused, looking at Peter. "Hey kid." He smiled, and Peter let out a long-held breath.
"Hi, Mr. Stark."
"I heard you got a little held up in the lab."
"You could say that." Peter ventured. Was he going to be mad?
"Well, did you adhere to lab protocol?" The corner of Stark's mouth quirked up.
Peter huffed a surprised laugh, the tension draining from his body. "Mr. Stark, I think you're making fun of me."
"Not at all. I'm just happy you had a chance to bond with Happy."
Peter rolled his eyes.
Stark suddenly looked very curious. "What were you even working on? I thought your latest project was that robotic arm?"
Peter bit his lip. How did he know he was working on that? "I took a break to work on Harley's glove." It was a small lie. Peter wasn't even sure why he said it. He just wanted the weird polymer experiment to be his for now.
Mr. Stark laughed and Peter winced inwardly. He didn't think about how absurd the lie was, considering how far off course the properties of the material were. It made Peter look like he didn't know what he was doing. He should've just told Tony he was fooling around, even that would be better than looking inept in front of the man.
"The glove? Really? Well, we can't be genius chemist prodigies all the time. Having explosive mistakes in the lab is part of the process. I've blown up my fair share of experiments over the years, too. Just not usually all over Happy."
Peter groaned at the reminder. He had ruined the man's suit. "Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"
"Not likely, kid." Stark was grinning as he said it, but that didn't stop Peter from feeling horrible. He covered his face and groaned again. He had his eyes tightly shut, so he was surprised by Stark's arm dropping down on his shoulder.
"Don't worry about it, kid. He'll get over it. Let me show you your room."
His room? On this floor?
Peter looked around in confusion. For a moment he thought this was surely where Stark lived. Had he been wrong? Was this an Avenger's floor?
Mr. Stark led him by the shoulder to a hallway off of the spacious living room. "That door is mine. Pepper is usually here on weekends if she's not traveling for SI."
Peter's eyes widened. Oh, so they did live here. Peter was even more confused now. Was he getting a tour of this floor before Tony took him to another area of the building?
"That one an office." He pointed to an open door that revealed a desk and an amazing view through floor length windows. "Sometimes I'm in there catching up on calls, but even if the door is closed, you can still come in if you need something."
The information was filtering slowly through some sort of bottleneck in Peter's mind. He doubted he would ever have a big enough reason to interrupt Stark during an important business call. He'd have to be dying.
"And that's your door."
The bottleneck in Peter's brain clamped completely shut. It was now a complete traffic jam. He couldn't process what the man had just said.
Peter was going to be living in Tony Stark's personal floor at SI? This was nothing like bunking in the guest rooms at the compound. None of the Avengers truly lived there permanently. They all had a separate space somewhere, an apartment, a house. Even if they ended up staying at the compound more than their real homes, they still had a real home somewhere. The rooms weren't very personal. And Stark stayed at the compound less than any of the others. It was like a hotel room for him. A matter of convenience at best.
This was Mr. Stark's home. And now Peter was going to be staying here?
His guardian watched him carefully as Peter stood frozen in front of the door. "Pepper decorated, so just let me know if you don't like anything and I'll swap it out without letting her know." Stark smirked. And then cleared his throat when Peter remained frozen to the spot. "Need help with that door, kid?"
He felt a nudge between his shoulder blades and Peter lurched forward. He opened the door, revealing a large bedroom painted in the palest blue gray. The bed was huge, with a soft navy cover. Dark wood shelves lined an entire wall, and Peter saw that half of the space was already filled with a collection of engineering books. Peter spied a copy of Circuit Analysis for Dummies, and an Electrician's Safety Guide that made his lips twitch.
Huge glass windows overlooked the city, but even that view wasn't enough to pull Peter's attention from the room itself. A desk that matched the finish of the wooden shelves sat opposite the windows. Behind it, the wall had a shiny, slate colored finish. Little metal containers full of white dry erase markers hung on hooks, and Peter realized the wall was actually a giant, dark gray dry erase board. Someone had sketched out schematics for the arm of an Iron Man suit and the repulsor in the palm. The repulsor Iron Man had shot him with when they met. Now Peter really did smile.
He turned to face Mr. Stark, who was watching him expectantly, almost nervously. Peter opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He gulped a breath and tried again, but he just couldn't form the words he wanted to say. Even the polite, rote memory phrases just wouldn't form.
Stark's face softened and he closed the distance, putting a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder. "It's a lot to take in. Why don't you take a seat over here?" He pulled the desk chair out and maneuvered Peter into the seat.
There was a backpack sitting on the desk. His backpack. For school. The homey sight of it was doing strange things to his brain, unraveling his thoughts at a frightening rate.
Peter took deep, slow breaths and he listened to his racing heart. What was wrong with him? He tipped his head down and closed his eyes as he grappled with the flood of emotions that were coming too fast to even identify. He thought maybe he was happy, but also sad. He was relieved, but also terrified. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. And underneath it all, he was still angry. Peter couldn't catch his breath, and the feeling was starting to worry him. Was something wrong with him?
"Mr. Stark?" He gasped an anxious breath.
His mentor's voice was gentle and warm when he spoke. "Right here, kiddo. You're okay. Just take some slow breaths."
Stark sat on the desk just beside him, patting his back. "I can't wait to tell Pepper you were rendered both speechless and breathless by her decorating. I don't think she's ever moved a person to panic with her interior design skills."
Peter chuckled and reached over, shoving Stark's shoulder. He didn't quite control the force of it and pushed the man right off the desk, which made Peter laugh harder.
"Not panicking. Just. I don't know." He said between gasping breaths. Maybe he was losing it.
Stark regained his seat on the desk, smiling. "You're okay, Pete."
"Thanks Mr. Stark."
The man nodded. "Are you hungry? Let's order some food."
"Yeah, maybe my blood sugar is just low." Peter said with a tight smile. His breathing was under control again. The maelstrom of confusing feelings was still there, swirling around, but it wasn't threatening to blow him over. The distraction of food already helping him ignore the storm. He could deal with it another day.
"Is Pepper coming for dinner?"
"Yes, she's excited to see you. And she has more to discuss about school. I heard you're going with Midtown?"
Peter nodded. He remembered the pair of teens at the mall. The teen boy had been wearing a Midtown Tech Tigers shirt.
"Midtown had the most impressive programs." Peter asserted.
Tony snorted. "Mmhm, and an impressive mascot, I hear."
Peter shrugged. "I like tigers."
"Boss, Happy placed Peter's boxes in the elevator and sent it up." FRIDAY announced from above.
Mr. Stark helped Peter carry the boxes into his room to unpack. Besides the one box of spare parts he'd been collecting, the rest was just clothes and books. It didn't take long to put it all in Peter's new room.
One worrisome clothing box had an errant sleeve sticking out the top that made Peter's face burn. As soon as Stark turned around Peter shoved the shirt into a drawer and shut it with a forceful thud. Stark hadn't noticed it was missing yet, or if he did, he had forgotten that Peter had it.
Stark turned around at the noise, brows raised. "Ready to eat?"
"Yeah. I'm all done. Let's go."
They closed the door to the room and FRIDAY turned off the lights. The worn MIT sweatshirt sat safe in the drawer.
