If Peter’s life was like a movie, this is where the montage would happen. 

A series of crossfades would tell the story of the next two days, skipping over the boring stuff like sitting through his math class and breezing past the embarrassing stuff like Flash “accidentally” spilling his tray of mashed potatoes and turkey gravy into his lap. There’d be a pop song that was popular in the early 2000s, something that everyone nods their head along to, and maybe a fast-forward of Mr. Harrington and Principal Morita’s desperate attempts to find a way to prove that they had destroyed the original set of internship papers that they’d be given, perhaps in increasingly comical ways, until they finally found the proof they needed and proudly presented the evidence to Mr. Stark, ending the montage….

But, this is real life. 

And in real life, Peter has to actually live through the 48-hours standing between him and knowing for sure whether or not Mr. Stark was actually going to sue his teachers. He also has to experience math class and frantically scrub gravy from the crotch of his jeans thanks to Flash, without so much as a Black Eyed Peas song to uplift his spirits about it. No cool camera work or editing. Just 172,800 seconds of holding his breath while he hopes, prays, and waits to find out if they’re actually going to get their field trip. 

Fortunately for everyone involved, it’s not Peter’s luck that they had to rely on, in the end. 

A slightly grainy tape from the office where they shredded the packet was all the proof that Stark Industries needed to be sure that the documents hadn’t been misplaced or sold and that means field trip back on. 

Peter’s a hero, once again. 

But there’s not a single classmate of his, besides Ned, who knows it. 

And that’s the real kicker to end the montage on. 

***

Friday dawns clear and cold, with a pale sun sitting indifferently on the horizon. Looking down over Peter like a single, judgemental eye, tracking his process as he runs to school. 

Because he’s late. 

Again. 

He twists, turns, dives, bobs, and weaves his way through the crowds on the sidewalks in Queens and stumbles up the stairs into the bus in record time, winded but there and offering a weak wave to first the bus driver and then to Mr. Harrington, who’s sitting in the first seat behind the driver. 

Mr. Harrington waves back, his expression contrite, and Peter sighs. 

He’s been getting those looks since Tuesday, now. Every time that he makes eye contact with a teacher, they send him silent signals about how sorry they are for not believing him. Throwing extra points onto his assignments for “going above and beyond” what the expectation was, picking him for the interesting tasks like delivering notes to the office - okay, so maybe that doesn’t sound interesting, but any chance to get out of class and stretch your legs is highly coveted - or being part of the demonstration of something cool. 

It’s the kind of thing that Mr. Stark would say he should enjoy, because he deserves it… but it just puts a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Watching his teachers bend over backwards to keep him happy just because he knows the Tony Stark is kind of embarrassing. He never wanted them to start treating him like he was special. Not for being a poor, orphaned kid and not for being the poor, orphaned kid that Mr. Stark took an interest in. 

But as much as he’s uncomfortable with it? There’s someone else on the bus who hates it even more than he does. 

It’s that tingling, “ danger ” feeling that makes him jump, his body going into action before his brain can even catch up and he lands on the other side of the foot that Flash stuck out to trip him. He turns his head in time to see Flash’s expression sour, his dark eyes growing thunderous. And, not for the first time, Peter wishes that he’d just taken the first, impulsive way that Flash tried to humiliate him instead of accidentally making him work harder for it. 

“Glad you could make it, Penis,” Flash hisses at him, under his breath, composing himself again. “Cool of you to sit on the bus with the rest of us instead of having Tony Stark pick you up in his private limo. Which he would, right? Since you’re his intern and all.” 

That was the other thing that was making his stomach turn. Mr. Harrington and Principal Morita had delivered their handwritten notes of apology and satisfied the new terms of the field trip… but they didn’t tell anyone else about it. Peter’s not sure if that was because students would panic or if it was because they didn’t want to admit to everyone the way that they had treated a student and let word get around that it was handled so poorly by the faculty, but he IS sure that his sudden rise in popularity with the teachers along with no tangible explanation for it has put Flash in an increasingly dark mood. 

Peter opens his mouth to retort, but there’s not a single comeback that comes to mind. All systems failed, and he’s about to take the easy route out and weakly insist that his internship is real when someone pipes up from behind them and saves his metaphorical life.

“Sounds like a waste of resources to me,” Michelle drawls, sitting up into view from the seat behind Flash. “The bus was already going that way. Why would Peter elect to intensify the carbon footprint that we’re leaving on this slowly dying planet?” 

“Was I talking to you?” Flash asked, turning his head to glare at Michelle and giving Peter time to escape, scrambling down the dirty and narrow aisle of the bus and drop down in the vacant spot next to Ned who immediately pulled the headphones out of his ears and turned to face him excitedly.

“Peter!” He says, pulling him into a side hug. “I knew you’d make it. I mean, I wasn’t 100% sure that you wouldn’t miss the bus, but then Flash started saying that you were skipping because you’re too embarrassed to admit that your internship wasn’t real so I told him that if you did miss the bus that Mr. Stark would send a limo for you like he does when you leave the school -” 

“It’s not a limo, it’s a town car -” Peter starts to interrupt, but he’s drowned out by Ned. 

“- and that you’d be there before us, probably. Aren’t you excited? Oh, hey! Check it out! I brought my Ironman poster. I know it’s not for sure that we’re going to see him but just in case. How cool would it be if he did sign it?” 

“Way cool,” Peter agrees with a faint smile. His fluster and frustration at Flash’s attitude starts to ebb away, beaten into submission by the waves of pure excitement that are rolling off of Ned right now. If there’s nothing else in the world that he can count on or trust, it’s that Ned can calm him down just by virtue of being himself. “You know, if he doesn’t meet us today, I can always bring your poster into the lab and have him sign it there. I know that’s not as cool as seeing him do it in person, but -” 

“You would?!” Ned practically bounces in his seat. “I wanted to ask but then I thought that would be rude because you were my friend before you were a Stark Intern and I didn’t want to start asking you to do me crazy favours like get my poster signed and tell me what brand of cologne he uses so that I can start smelling like a billionaire too. But since you’re offering all on your own -” 

“Hey, guys” Flash calls out again as the bus rumbles to life. “Put your orders in with Parker now. He’s going to go on a coffee run for us since, you know, he works there as an intern.” 

A few of Flash’s friends laugh loudly and meanly while some other people in his grade have the grace to giggle quietly or try to hide their grins behind their hands while Mr. Harrington sits up straight and twists to look at Flash. 

“That’s enough, Mr. Thompson.” 

The verbal shut down makes Flash turn red and scowl, whipping his head around to give Peter a withering look before he turns to his friends and starts to talk animatedly about the trip ahead. 

“...This is going to suck,” Peter declares, slumping down in his seat. 

Ned clumsily pats him on the arm. “At least you’ll get to hang out with Tony Stark after it sucks. Flash just gets to go home.” 

***

It’s weird seeing the tower from this side of things, gives him a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach like miscalculating in the dark and missing a stair on the way down. Since Happy always drives him around to the back entrance, he’s never actually seen the front doors this close. 

They’re teeming with life in a way that the other entrance never is. People in suits walk in and walk out, chatting animatedly with each other or jogging ahead of the crowd to hurriedly wave down a taxi. Peter feels both invisible and put on display, since the passing workers don’t so much as glance at him but every one of his classmates is looking at or near him, waiting for something . Maybe they want him to look like he’s the only one who knows exactly where he’s going or maybe they’re waiting for him to wave at a passing employee and greet them by name. 

But he doesn’t do any of those things. Just keeps his eyes forward on the building that they’re ushered inside and wonders if it would be better if he had skipped this whole thing. 

The lobby here is huge and not much like the one that Peter’s used to. It has the same bullet proof windows, vaulted ceilings, and gleaming exterior with cameras pointing at them from every direction, sure, but it also has a wall lined with photos of Tony through the years, and framed newspaper articles about the avengers. There’s even a display model of the Ironman suit, tucked safely in a glass case. 

“Good morning, Midtown!” A sharply dressed woman in a grey pantsuit greets them warmly but professionally. “And welcome to Stark Industries! I’m Lisa and I’ll be your tour guide for today. We are thrilled to have you here and looking forward to giving you an inside look into what it is, exactly, that we do here. But, as you can probably imagine there are some things that we need to go over first before we can allow you any further.” 

There’s not so much as a titter from any of them. They all stand silently, in total awe of the fact that this is actually happening. Even Flash, who’d taken to chanting “Penis” behind Peter, shuts up and listens with all his might. 

“I know that, as intelligent and capable students, you read through our packet of rules and guidelines that must be followed to ensure the safety of you, your classmates, and the people who work here. But, just in case things are hazy in your mind, I’m going to give you a quick reminder. To start with, you absolutely cannot leave the group for any reason. If you have to use the bathroom, please let me know and you will have to be escorted by an employee or by your teacher. This is a workplace first and foremost and we can’t have you wandering off and inhibiting our employees. Secondly, we will be taking you into the inner workings of this technological hub. You are going to see some pretty amazing things. Look all you want, but be aware that you are not allowed to touch or take photos, unless we say that you can. If you don’t hear me tell you yes? Then you should assume it’s a no. And if you think that you can’t handle the responsibility or not getting personalized with our machines, then you better keep your hands in your pockets. Finally, remember that you have all signed a nondisclosure agreement. Everything that you see and hear in the building today cannot be disclosed. And if you think that you’ll get away with it because you’re minors and contracts that you sign aren’t legally binding, here’s your reminder that your parents signed off on this, as well, and we can sue them into the ground which will likely have an effect on how you live your life.” 

It’s a threat. 

A cheerful, friendly threat, but a threat all the same and Peter sees some of his classmates trading uneasy looks. 

“Any questions about our rules and guidelines?” 

No one raises their hands and Lisa’s smile, somehow, becomes even brighter. 

“Great! Then let’s get started! These boxes here? They have passes that will allow you temporary access to all the rooms that we’ll be touring today. You must not lose these or misplace them because Mr. Stark has a policy against duplicates being made. As you can imagine, it’s too dangerous to leave a key to the castle lying around for just anyone to pick up. You are free to take these home as souvenirs but keep in mind that the chip inside that grants you access will deactivate as soon as you are ten feet away from the building and will not grant you reentry and, if inserted again, will send a red alert to our security team. I promise you don’t want that. Now, when I say your name, please come up and collect your badge.” 

The intensity of the lecture combined with the unwavering cheer in her voice and the smile on her face has a lot of his classmates rattled. He can see it in their faces as they stand tense and ready to hear their names. 

“Andrews, Melissa?” 

There’s a lot of students to get through and Peter finds himself growing more and more tense as Lisa makes her way through the list, handing out bandes with a pale blue lanyard on them to each student that eagerly bounds forward to collect them. 

He knew about the no duplicates rule. 

And he’d been expecting it. 

His badge is already around his neck, hidden by the oversized grey hoodie that he’d thrown on that morning. Its lanyard is red and gold, like all level 5s have, and he just KNOWS that’s going to raise some eyebrows. 

“Oberg, Michael?” 

“Pane, Kelly?” 

“Richardson, Matthew?” 

Flash’s hand goes up at the speed of sound, waving in the air to catch Lisa’s attention who looks up with surprise and points at him. “Go ahead?” 

“You missed one of my classmates!” Flash says, shooting Peter a triumphant look. “Peter Parker? He should have been called before Matt.” 

Lisa’s smile fades for the first time and she looks down at her clipboard, running her index finger against the paper and, clearly, doesn’t find the space where his name would be. 

“Mr. Parker?” She says, bringing Peter’s attention to her. “Do you have permission to be here on this trip?” 

“Yes,” Peter says. His voice cracks a little and he clears his throat. “But I have my own badge.” 

“Oh, you do? Give me just a second! Parker… Parker… there you are! My mistake, you’re in the system as an employee, not a visitor. Could you please have your badge out and visible?” 

Peter reaches into the neckline of his hoodie and pulls his badge out. It’s stark against his grey sweatshirt, obviously different than everyone else’s and Lisa, even from a distance, can tell. For her credit, she keeps her composure. 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Parker. And welcome to this side of the tower!” 

“Thanks,” He says, shyly, daring to sneak a peek at Flash who looks like he swallowed a grapefruit whole. Sour eyes and puffed out cheeks. “Glad to be here.” 

Lisa continues down the list. Most kids walk hurriedly to get their badge, marveling at it before they put it on. But Flash struts to grab his, yanking it on like it’s the gold medal at the Olympics and Peter has to fight not to roll his eyes, grateful when they’re to the entrances to the building. There’s different ones with different keycard slots and Lisa takes her time to point each one out. 

“There are over 10,000 people here in the tower for one reason or another and, for ease of access and to combat traffic jams, we here at Stark Industries have several different entrances tailored to different types of keycards. You see, in addition to the colour coding that is applied to the badges for ease of recognition for our employees, the chips in each one are a little different. This entrance, right here, is for our visitors. Usually people taking tours like you or workers from other companies who are here to speak to Mr. Stark or Ms. Potts. The door to the right of you is for employees, while the door to the left is for food vendors and other service providers who bring outside supplies with them into the building. They use that door because they’re required to go through additional screening. Now, as I was saying about the chips inside your badges, each one is designated to open a specific entrance. Visitors can only go through this door, vendors can only use that one and employees that are level 4 and lower are designated to that door.” 

The pointing is hard to follow when Peter’s at the back, behind several taller people, but he thinks he’s keeping up with the gist of it, absorbing all the knowledge that he can because he’s not sure when he’ll be at this side of things. 

“The only people who have chips that allow them access through any door are employees that are level 5 and security personnel. Their badges are much different than everyone else’s, you see. They wear watches that automatically open doors so that they’re not slowed down by swiping a keycard. Now, if you’d get into a single file line we can get through the doors and onto the tour in -” 

Flash’s hand is raised again. Lisa's smile freezes on her face but she graciously calls on him. 

“What entrance does Tony Stark use?” 

Well, at least it’s not a question about him.

“Oh, Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts, and the avengers all use a private entrance in the back for enhanced security purposes. It can be a little difficult for them to show up here, where all the buzz happens. Even our employees get a little starstruck from time to time. Or should I say Starkstruck?” 

She giggles at her own joke and the class politely titters back in response. 

“Now, please. Single file line. No pushing, no shoving. Oh! Mr. Parker? If you’d please move to the employee entrance?” 

Oh no. 

Peter was really, really, REALLY hoping that she’d forget about him. But, as far as she’s aware, he’s only a lower level employee and has already decided that this door won’t open for him. He’s not sure what’s worse, honestly. Staying in this line and having the door open for him, anyway, even after Lisa made it clear that only upper level employees can do that? Or going to the entrance with no line and having his arrival announced? 

“Mr. Parker?” Lisa presses. 

“Uh-oh, Penis…” Flash whispers to him. “Looks like that fake badge of yours is about to get you in trooooooouble. What are you gonna do when the door doesn’t open, huh?” 

“Peter?” Mr. Harrington calls. 

“Sorry!” Peter mumbles, taking a deep breath and stepping out of line to shuffle to the employee entrance. Everyone’s staring at him as he inserts his keycard into the slot and listens to the drone of machinery. 

The door swings open and Peter steps through, eyes half-closed and shoulders tense as Friday’s light and clear voice sounds off, loudly enough for /everyone/ to hear. 

“Peter Parker, level five. Welcome back, Peter. Mr. Stark has been notified of your arrival.” 

“...Thanks, Fri.” Peter calls, unwilling to slight the automated system that runs through the building, even for the sake of saving himself the embarrassment. Everyone’s staring at him anyway. Even Lisa, her mouth slightly agape. 

She’s the first to get ahold of herself, though, that smile returning to her face. 

“Well, now, you’ve seen how it’s done. Let’s get you guys through. Come on, come one. Single file line. No pushing, the tour won’t start without you, I promise.” 

They’ve been here five minutes and Peter’s already feeling faint with anxiety. This is going to be a long day. 

***

Once everyone is on the other side of security, Lisa takes the lead at the front of the group and starts to walk them through the main halls of the tower. Ned stands close to Peter the whole time, his fingers clutched around Peter’s wrist so he can squeeze with excitement every time he hears something that fascinates him… which is happening a lot so it’s a good thing that he heals fast or else he’d have finger shaped bruises. 

“I’m sure you’re all aware of some part of the history of this tower, but what kind of tour guide would I be if I didn’t go over it again?” Lisa says, walking with purpose. “Stark Towers is the product of our CEO’s brilliant mind and our owner’s eye for advancement. Virginia Potts, better known as Pepper, came up with the idea for Manhattan's first clean-energy powered skyscraper with the hope that it would be a model for all future development in our city. It’s ability to self-sustain without an attachment to the power grid is dependent on the arc reactor. An invention that was first brought to life by Howard Stark, but later perfected by the building’s current owner, Tony Stark. I’m sure that you all heard that the tower was briefly set to be sold but Mr. Stark changed his mind about the deal and, as an employee, I can tell you that we are certainly glad that he did.” 

A hand raises, but this time it's not Flash. 

“Um, is the Tower safe? Cause… doesn’t it get attacked, like all the time?” 

“That’s a very good question,” Lisa says, her smile gentle. “I can understand the concern that you have, but you don’t have to worry. Mr. Stark is all about innovation and improvement. Every attack on the building has led to new breakthroughs in the technology that protects us. The tower has been reinforced against any attack and the security in our internal system has a 100% success rating that hasn’t fallen in the last few years. You are completely safe here.” 

Peter thinks that promise is issued a lot like a challenge and hopes that there’s nothing out there waiting to arise to the occasion and prove Lisa wrong. 

“Now, we’re going to be seeing a “sampler”, so to speak, of the tower. Certain areas are temporarily allowing access for lower level badges. Be ready to swipe them over and over again. That’s one of the drawbacks of top of the line security -- you have to start getting repetitive.” 

“What do you mean by ‘lower level badges’?” Flash asks, his awe about their surroundings turning to outrage when it’s implied that something he has, even a borrowed something, isn’t top of the line. 

“Well, as I mentioned before, there are different levels of badges. Clearance levels go from 0 - 5. At the very bottom are people visiting from other companies. They only have access to the entrance where they are then greeted by an employee who escorts them to where they’re going. Mr. Stark is very careful about his trade secrets as you can imagine. Next is level 1, which applies to visitors like yourselves. You have access to certain rooms in the tower, more than an rival employee would. Next is two, a level for general staff like myself. People who tend to stay in the lower levels of the building, handling things like tours or janitorial. Level three is applicable to interns who work on higher levels but don’t have access to any heavy machinery or chemicals. They tend to work for the level fours, our engineers, our scientists, our brilliant minds that work toward the top of the building and sometimes stay overnight. And level five, of course, is for the top floors where Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts reside in their private penthouse. There’s also a floor for visiting avengers. Only Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts, the avengers, and special elected people have badges that high.” 

Peter desperately wants to shove his badge back into his sweatshirt, especially when he sees Flash’s head swivel around to get a look at him. There’s no number on his badge, but the colour is boldly different than everyone else’s and his hand shoots up again. 

“Miss? How come Pen - Parker’s badge is a different colour than ours?” 

Lisa doesn’t even look over at them. “The levels are signified by colours. Level 0 is white, Level 1 is a pale blue. Level 2 is green, level 3 is purple, level 4 is silver, and level 5 is red and gold. I’m sure you can guess why that is.” 

Flash’s eyes nearly bug out of his head and he stops dead in his tracks, pushing through the cluster of students to get to Peter and grab his badge. 

“There’s no way this is real. Mr. Harrington, come look! This badge has to be a fake. There’s no way an intern would have a level 5!” 

“Flash, please.” Mr. Harrington rushes over to shove his arm between them, making Flash drop the badge. “Peter is Mr. Stark’s personal intern. I’m sure it’s part of his job to move around the building and get everywhere.” 

“Uh, yeah.” Peter says, grateful for the save because he honestly didn’t have any idea what he was going to say in response to that. “That’s why. I have to be able to go wherever Mr. Stark is.” 

“That does make sense,” Lisa calls, trying to get order again. “Ms. Potts’ personal assistant also has a badge like that.” 

Flash’s scowl deepens and whips back around to face away from him. He’s followed closely by Mr. Harrington, who leans in to whisper a warning about his behaviour to him.

“Dude,” Ned whispers to him, in awe. “Mr. Harrington totally just saved your life.” 

“Or put a bounty on my head,” Peter says, watching Flash get scolded with a sinking feeling in his gut. Maybe Mr. Stark can take on his teachers, but Flash is just a kid like him and he has a feeling this is an enemy he’s not gonna get any help with. “Let’s just hope that Flash chills out a little.” 

“Flash? Chill? Little? Hope?” Ned repeats, eyebrows raised, and Peter elbows him. 

“Come on. The worst is probably over,” He says, unconvincingly. Unwittingly sending a challenge out into the universe.

One that it’s more than happy to accept.