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To be entirely fair, Peter had been 12% conscious when the announcement was made, and that’s the only reason he yelped so hard when MJ’s elbow dug into his ribs and she asked, “You intern there, like, all the time, right?”
Peter’s head whipped around. He’d been up relatively late last night, getting his ass kicked first by the Black Widow and then by his calculus homework, so, uh. He’d been napping through Engineering. “Wha’s going on?”
“God, you’re a mess,” MJ said, and failed to further elaborate.
Peter turned a pleading look to Ned, who took pity on him. “We’re going on a field trip to Tony Stark’s workshop spaces in Avengers Tower,” Ned said.
“Oh no,” Peter replied.
“They do this every year, he never shows up,” Ned reassured him. “He’s not supposed to. We’re just gonna talk to some engineers about our future careers in STEM fields, play around with Stark tech.”
“There will be so many white men,” MJ says. “Too many, in fact. Too many white men.”
Peter looked at her. “Are you going to be in this conversation or not, Michelle?”
She glowered at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shrinking back.
“You’re damn right,” MJ said, then returned to her notes.
Peter shot a sidelong look at Ned. “But… we’re all going to Avengers Tower. Like. As a class event.” He already spent half his life in the Tower, between his internship and the being-Spiderman thing and the various times he and increasingly Aunt May just, like, hung out. They were cool. They were almost like family.
And he was going to have to look at all the cool tech in the Tower he’d helped repair (or create, because Shuri had made him a whiz at Wakandan tech, at least when compared to other non-Wakandans — to actual Wakandans, he was like a mildly precocious first-grader) and act like a tourist???
“Look on the bright side,” Ned said. “Some supervillain might attack the Tower and force us to evacuate. It happened when we went to the Washington Monument, after all.”
“You always look on the bright side,” Peter said. “It’s what I like about you.”
“Can you two maybe shut up,” MJ said. “I’m trying to listen.”
“Sorry,” Peter and Ned muttered, and returned their attention to the screen.
In hopes of finding a more sympathetic audience, Peter called Shuri on one of her impossibly cool magic marbles.
She cackled at him.
“Your life sucks,” she said between bouts of laughter. “Only you could get yourself into this mess, Peter. Only you.”
“I don’t know why I thought you might be sympathetic,” Peter said.
She cackled again. “Truly, I don’t either,” she replied. “To clarify- your friends, do they know of your connection to the Avengers?”
The Wakandans didn’t quite get the whole secret-identity thing. Shuri had made an excellent point- half of the Avengers didn’t wear masks consistently, and, like… faces are recognizable. She didn’t believe people would just not recognize them. He’d had to argue with Shuri for the better part of an evening to convince her that no, people genuinely are that stupid, they don’t recognize Hawkeye in the grocery store because- no, no one has ever recognized Hawkeye anywhere, yes, he understood he still looked like Hawkeye in different clothes but like-
At least his spidey-suit actually concealed his identity, saving him from getting the brunt of Shuri’s mocking critiques.
“Ned definitely does,” Peter said. “I think MJ might, but she’s kind of an enigma. I’m not sure she’d tell me if she knew.”
“MJ sounds cool,” Shuri said. “I want to meet her.”
“I cannot handle Wakandan royalty coming to my school,” Peter said. “Bad enough everyone knows I’m connected to StarkIndustries, if you or T’Challa come around people will be like, why the hell does Peter Parker of all people know these ridiculously cool superheroes and they will catch on to the Spiderman thing and then I’ll go to jail.”
Shuri rolled her eyes. “Buzzkill.”
Peter groaned and faceplanted on his pillow. “Why do all my friends bully me?”
“Because you’re pitiful,” Shuri said. Then, affecting a wholly decent New Jersey accent, she added, “You’ll never be shit, duck.”
“Ya just. Like. Ya fatha,” Peter said into the pillow. “I hate you, Shuri.”
“Ridiculous,” Shuri said. “My brother says Tony Stark has scheduled our next playdate for this Saturday as a paper-thin excuse to rematch with him for the six-hundred-sixteenth time.”
Peter groans. “When will he learn that your tech is just better than his?”
Shuri shrugs. “He enjoys tilting at the windmill that is my brother’s suit,” Shuri says. “And this will teach him humility.”
“If you successfully teach him humility I think Pepper Potts will cry tears of pure joy.” Peter pulled his head up. “If you want him to stop, I can talk to Ms. Potts about it,” he said, “he doesn’t have to-“
“No, no, it’s fun to watch him squirm,” Shuri said. “Besides, you’re my fiancée, we should go on dates.”
“Oh my god,” Peter said, faceplanting back into his nice, safe pillow, which never used ridiculously advanced, truly game-changing tech to cyberbully him. “For the last time, I proposed to your lab, to the concept of science, not to-“
“You proposed,” Shuri said. “And I have graciously accepted. You get to become royalty of the most technologically advanced nation in the world. You’re welcome.”
“I hate you,” Peter said.
Shuri laughed, loud and bright, then said, “I should get back to work. I love you, you’ll have to tell me about the field trip on Saturday!”
“Love you too bye,” Peter said.
Shuri ended the connection with a click, leaving Peter alone in his room.
“I’m glad my life is at least providing amusement to someone,” he said, to no one in particular.
His class was still filtering in the front doors of the Stark Tower lobby- perhaps the only part of the building Peter wasn’t very familiar with, as he came in the side entrances for People In The Know- when his spidey-sense helpfully alerted him that something was wrong.
“This is such a goddamn useless superpower,” Peter whispered to the hairs literally standing up on the back of his forearms.
“Welcome!” a too-familiar voice boomed, and Peter just squeezed his eyes shut in hopes that this would turn out to be some kind of bizarre nightmare. “I decided I’d be your tour guide today.”
Peter had considered this as a possibility, but he was under the mistaken impression that a) any of the Avengers loved him and b) any of them could exercise at least some modicum of control over Tony Stark’s innate need to be the center of attention and embarrass the hell out of Peter.
“Mr. Stark,” Peter’s teacher said, all flustered. “We- we weren’t expecting- this is such an honor, I mean-“
Tony flashed her his bright-white smile. It wasn’t even fake- he was genuinely enjoying this bullshit. The asshole. “Eh, I hit a snag on a project and heard some students were getting a tour, so I thought, well, why not? I know this building better than anyone else, after all, I built it. Now, where did you kids say you were from?”
Peter glared. Not cool.
“Midtown High,” Peter’s teacher replied.
“Did you really build this yourself, Mr. Stark?” one of Peter’s classmates asks, overeager.
“Every brick, and please, call me Tony,” Tony replied.
A kid Peter only tangentially knew leaned over to him and whispered, “Don’t you know him?”
“Don’t be stupid,” MJ said. “He has an internship here, it’s not like he knows Tony Stark.”
“Have any of you ever been to Avengers Tower before?” Tony asked, eyes scanning over Peter’s class. When he finally spotted Peter, he winked. The absolute jackass, he was doing this on purpose.
The teacher, who up until now Peter had actually liked, said, “You know, one of our students has an internship in this building, isn’t that right, Peter?”
Everyone was looking at him.
Tony was beaming.
Peter discreetly pinched himself to make sure this wasn’t a nightmare, but no, his subconscious was never this fucked up. Sure, it sends him giant naked role rats eating his loved ones at one in the morning, but Peter would take that over public humiliation any day of the week, any month of the year.
“I’m always happy to meet our interns,” Tony says, because Peter is indeed trapped in this waking hell, it’s not a nightmare. “Have you found your experience here interesting?”
Like twelve hours ago he was in this building, joking around with Wanda after patrolling the southern end of Manhattan with her. Tony’d walked up to them, violently misused modern slang on purpose because that was what passed for comedy with him, then driven Peter home.
“Very,” Peter managed to choke out. “Although my boss can be a bit much.”
Tony threw his head back and laughed, and it was at that point that Peter realized he needed backup. A lot of backup. Industrial-strength backup.
Joke’s on Tony, Peter had Avengers-level access to this building and absolutely no compunctions about using it for his own semi-nefarious purposes. Friday was in charge of checking everyone’s credentials anyway, and there was no doubt in Peter’s mind that Friday was on his side. He slipped away from the chaperone after a round of counting, got in an elevator, and made his way to the common area where most of the team should be hanging out around this time of day.
Bingo. Cap was sitting there in a T-shirt and some sweatpants, one leg thrown over the armrest on a sofa, eating an apple and reading some book with spaceships on the cover.
“Please help,” Peter said.
“What’s wrong?” Cap asked, jumping to his feet. “I can have the team assembled in-“
“Not that kind of help,” Peter said. “It’s Tony, he’s being… Tony.”
Cap frowned at Peter. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“We’re on a field trip,” Peter said. “To here. And Tony decided to be our tour guide and absolutely embarrass me, so can you please help get him under control?”
Which is how Peter Parker, architect of his own destruction, ended up with not one but two superhero pseudo-dads being annoying on his school field trip.
Of course, he didn’t know that at first. He’d waltzed his ass back to his classmates, secure in the knowledge that Steven Grant Rogers, Actual Captain America, would come in and save the day. It was easy enough to track the group down and slip back into the mob, which was listening attentively as Tony explained arc reactor tech in polysyllables even the most gifted engineering-track students Midtown High had to offer couldn’t follow.
“Hey, Shellhead,” Cap’s voice boomed from behind them a scant two minutes later. “What’s all this?”
Everyone turned, including Peter, to see Captain America in full costume, shield and everything, walking towards them with his thumbs tucked into his belt. “Ladies and gentlemen, and those distinguished persons who fit into neither category, may I present the one, the only, Actual Captain America!”
God fucking damn it, Tony, Peter thought, blushing bright crimson. He’d only slipped and called Cap Actual Captain America in front of the Avengers once, when he was fourteen goddamn years old, but they’d all seized onto it and never let it go. The absolute jackasses. Superheroes, his sweet patootie. Supertools, more like.
“Is this a school group?” Cap asked, like he didn’t fucking know.
“Are you here to give us the detention lecture in person?” Flash asked, because Flash was constitutionally incapable of making good life choices.
Cap just frowned at Flash.
Flash shrunk back and dissolved back into the crowd.
Tony narrowed his eyes at Cap. “The detention lecture?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Cap said breezily to Tony.
Tony shrugged. “I’m giving a tour to these bright young minds from Midtown High. Lots of engineering fans, and I gotta keep them out of Justin Hammer’s hands somehow. Remember, kids, real quality comes from StarkIndustries. Hammer’s stuff is all cheap knockoffs.”
“Mind if I tag along?” Cap asked.
No! Peter thought to himself. You were supposed to make him leave, not join us!
He harbored a hope of Cap managing to contain Tony at least a little bit for about two minutes, after which point Cap said, “You know what? I really think we need a volunteer to demonstrate this equipment. Mind if I pick a volunteer?”
“Not at all,” Tony said.
Everyone’s hand shot up into the air. Everyone’s, that is, except for Peter’s. Peter slouched down even more, as if this would somehow make Cap and Tony forget about him. Besides, Cap was cool, right? They were tight!
“You there, young man!” Cap said, beaming brightly at Peter with a maniacal glint in his eye. “Come on up.”
You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain. Cap had gone dark side. It was all over.
Peter dragged his feet to the front of the class, hissing, “Traitor,” at Cap as he slid by.
Cap’s smile only grew. “So this is some state-of-the-art tech developed with the help of our friends in Wakanda. This interface can connect the user to the tower’s security, IT department, medical wing, or any other area in the building. Go on, kiddo, see if you can call someone.”
Sighing, Peter settled his fingers on the interface. Compared to Shuri’s marbles, it seemed clunky and outdated in his hand, but if he’d been a normal person, this would have been some impressively cutting-edge shit. “Who should I call?” Peter asked, trying to slow his fingers on the controllers he knew like the back of his hand.
Cap beamed. “I think the Scarlet Witch is in the Avengers press room, reading. Try calling her.”
… oh no.
Oh no.
Peteer’s hands froze. Cap would never endanger Peter’s secret identity for a cheap joke. He was a solid guy and he’d seen the kind of crap Tony went through because he didn’t have a secret identity. Would he tease Peter? Absolutely. Out him? Never. He’d seen the lengths to which Peter was willing to go to protect his secret identity, so Cap would never, ever, ever put Peter in a situation where a member of the Avengers team might greet him too familiarly in front of a bunch of internet-connected teenagers ready to out him to the world.
That meant one thing and one thing only: Wanda must be in on this too.
Et tu, Scarlet Witch?
God, he needed better friends.
Still, he made the connection and sure enough, Wanda popped up on the wall in front of them, projected larger-than-life. “Captain?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
“Cap and I are showing off some of our new toys from our Wakandan friends,” Tony said. “I’m sure next he’ll be telling them all how they seem to run off some sort of electricity.”
Cap endured the laughter of the crowd with good grace. The joke was on Tony, actually- Peter had the best grasp of Wakandan tech out of all of them, because he and Shuri hung out and talked about vibranium on the weekends, but Cap had the next-best understanding. He’d gone to sleep when telegraphs were popular and woke up with supercomputers in peoples’ pockets that they called phones. All things considered, Stark Tech to Wakandan tech was only barely the largest technological jump Cap had ever made.
Wanda, who was firmly Team Cap, replied to Tony, “Of course, will you be explaining to them all about the vibranium, or should I call the teenage girl who’s been giving you remedial lessons?”
Cap explained, for the benefit of the class, “She’s talking about Princess Shuri of Wakanda- she’s been spearheading the effort to disseminate Wakandan technology, which has involved giving Mr. Stark here some lessons.”
“And she’s stupid hot,” MJ muttered.
Peter did a double take. He briefly considered what his life would become if MJ and Shuri ever met, and shuddered at the thought. They’d make each other very happy, of that he had no doubt, but he would also never sleep soundly again.
“And who is this sweet boy here?” Wanda asked, dragging Peter out of his nightmarish imagining of a future and back into the nightmarish present. “One of the students?”
“Yes,” Cap said. “You know, son, I’m not sure I caught your name.”
Peter refused to give it.
The teacher clapped Peter on the shoulder. “This is Peter Parker.”
“Peter!” Wanda cooed, clapping her hands together. Her Sokovian accent thickened on his name as it always did, and the little detail made him think, maybe. Maybe. Wanda was his buddy, his pal, close in age to him, the cool older sister he’d never had. Siblings ganged up on parents, right? Going with this family analogy that he desperately hoped none of the Avengers would ever found out he’d thought because it seemed invasive and clingy to even think in the privacy of his own mind, maybe she’d help him control their meddlesome superdads. “You’re so handsome! Tell me, you must have a girlfriend or boyfriend by now, yes? Are they here?”
It took every ounce of willpower in Peter’s body not to just reply, “Oh, fuck you too, Wanda.”
Her eyes were bright with merriment. She knew exactly what the fuck she was doing.
Go to hell, Witch.
Flash had the goddamn audacity to snicker at the very concept of someone dating Peter, which earned him another withering Look Of Disapproval from Actual Captain America. Flash once again melted back into the crowd.
“Uh, no,” Peter said. “No, uh, no dating for me. Too busy. With, uh. School.”
“Don’t worry, champ,” Steve said, laying on the 1940s Norman Rockwell charm even more thickly than usual. “I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”
The urge to comment about Steve’s hundred-year dry spell was almost overwhelming. Peter bit his tongue- literally bit his tongue- and prayed for death.
At the end of the day, Peter found an excuse not to get on the bus back to Midtown, opting instead to hang around the Tower. He waited until everyone was out of sight, then hightailed it to the Avengers’ private living area. Everyone had assembled in the living room for a movie night- Clint had insisted on a Pixar marathon to settle a bet he and Natasha had made- and Peter just dropped his backpack right inside the doorjamb. “Guys,” he said. “Come on. I thought we were friends.”
Wanda burst out laughing. “Aw, sweet spider boy. We are friends! Come sit next to me, I’ll share popcorn.”
“Cap, I thought I could trust you,” Peter said.
“Your first mistake,” Sam replied.
Natasha tossed some popcorn at Clint, who managed to catch it in his mouth. “I told them not to embarrass you too badly.”
“You didn’t, I don’t know, try to stop them?” Peter asked.
Natasha shrugged. “I pick my battles.”
“We’re literally about to watch a ridiculous amount of movies to prove to Clint that there’s no way they could all fit into one cinematic universe,” Peter said. “You picked that battle, but not the one to save me from unending humiliation in front of my peers?”
“I pick battles I can win,” Natasha replied.
With a sigh, Peter collapsed on the sofa next to Wanda, landing his head in her lap. She started carding her fingers through his hair, which was why he put his head in her lap in the first place. “I deserve M&Ms,” Peter said. “And popcorn. For making it through the day without screaming.”
“Of course,” Wanda said. Red energy crackled through the air, and then a big bag landed on his belly.
“I know the real reason Nat didn’t help you,” Clint said.
“You will die tonight,” Nat replied.
Peter frowned at Clint. “What do you mean?”
“She grabbed security feeds from around the tower, spliced it into a home movie, and sent it to Shuri in exchange for an upgraded suit,” Clint said.
That explained the Snaps of Shuri just cackling at him, at least.
Nat threw more popcorn at Clint who again defeated the gesture by catching it in his mouth.
Peter didn’t even have the energy to get worked up anymore. He just sighed deeply and grabbed a fistful of M&Ms. “I hate you guys,” he said around a mouthful of chocolate.
“I know, sweet boy,” Wanda said. “We love you too.”