Chapter Text
The bus is loud.
The bus is loud, it stinks of teenage funk that has never been cleaned, and is attempted to be masked by Febreeze, perfume, and cologne. The seats are wildly uncomfortable, covered in build-up of dirt, sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids Peter does not want to think about.
Over the past week, Peter has been looking at a few law firms, trying to find one that could help for cheap, and he has found none, though Peter knows there is probably something. He just has to keep looking.
Peter has also been going out a little less, mostly because he has spent almost all night looking into law firms and catching up on scientists papers that he has been missing while looking into law firms.
Peter has also been trying to avoid Dr. Stark because he knows that Dr. Stark will try to get the USB stick from Peter and Peter does not want to share the information on that.
Peter has also been trying to catch up with the law to see what argument he could put up against The Daily Bugle.
And now, Peter was nervous because he wasn't sure Dr. Stark had his DNA or something to connect Peter to Spider-man.
Whatever, all Peter would have to do now is just focus on not hurling his protein bar he had for breakfast and-
Oh look. There's the tower. Peter was so glad he was not on the side of the bus where everyone else was, save for Mr. Harrington, MJ, and Peter. Even Ned crossed over to the other side to look at the tower, Peter sending him a betrayed look.
Peter could hear a faint heartbeat over all the noise, irregular, and slightly mechanical. Dr. Stark.
Peter was slightly surprised he could even hear Dr. Stark's heartbeat, he was on the top floor of the tower, up in his penthouse, and there was already a lot of chaos on the ground, with a tour group going to the tower.
Was it Avengers tower, or Stark tower? After the battle of New York back in 2012, the tower was branded as the Avengers tower, until recently when he has heard Stark Tower being said more and more because that is the main headquarters of Stark Industries.
“Alright, single file line, no deviating, when we get off the bus, I will state the rules once again,” Mr. Harrington said, causing Peter to rise, almost in sync with MJ. The other Academic Decathlon members piled into the aisle of the bus much quicker then Peter was able to, leaving Peter to be at the end of the line, which Peter was not about to complain about.
“Alright! So, one, no harassing your teammates, especially you Flash. Two, no straying from the group except in designated wandering times! I cannot lose another kid…” The last part was a mumble under Mr. Harrington's breath, making Peter grimace slightly. Every student of Mr. Harringtons going on a field trip of his knows the story. “Three, do not bother the people working! We do not know if they are open to questions, and we want to assume they are not.” Flash glared at Peter, and quietly moved to the back of the line where Peter was.
“I'm going to kill you fucker,” Flash hissed. Peter was confused, Flash never was this angry.
“Flash, please step away from Peter!” Mr. Harrington called. Flash pushed Peter subtly enough that Mr. Harrington wouldn’t notice that he had done so.
“Four, no photography! This is covered in your non-disclosure agreements, however I do have to state this again, there are highly confidential things in there, and Stark Industries does not want this to get out early, if at all!” Mr. Harrington continued the rules, and then everyone sat in silence for a good two minutes before a well-put together woman came out to guide the Aca-Dec team inside.
“Alright children,” The woman said, with a slight sneer in her voice at the word children. “I have to state the rules of SI to you, then I get to pass you off to our lovely head of security, Harold Hogan,” The woman clearly perked up at the head of security’s name, probably in love. Ew, Peter thought, gross.
The rules were stated again, and Ned excitedly squeezed Peter’s hand, in a pattern. Ned didn’t even seem to notice that he was performing morse code, and once Ned was done with his word, excited, Peter responded with a simple, yeah.
Ned glanced over at Peter, slightly shocked, but Peter just smiled. Ned grinned back.
The woman left, drawing Peter’s attention back to the front.
“Alright, badges, when I call your name, come up to collect your badge, and if I don't call your name, you didn't sign your permission slip or NDA and you are not allowed to be here,” A larger man came up, absolutely not amused whatsoever. This guy was probably Harold Hogan. Peter recognized the name, wasn't he a boxer? Peter never really followed boxing, but Ben enjoyed watching old runs of tournaments, and Peter’s favorite was always when Harold “Happy” Hogan was in the ring. Of course, Peter was much younger, and Ben stopped watching boxing when Peter was like ten, but it was a thing he enjoyed doing with Ben.
When Peter heard his name called, he quickly made his way forward, grabbing the plastic badge and letting it fall around his neck. It was uncomfortable, but it would have to make do. Peter glanced over at MJ, and saw her frowning at the badge. Probably because it was plastic.
“Hey, Mr. Hogan, what are all of the badge levels? Like yours is red and gold, but we have white ones, and that lady back there had a red badge?” Peter heard someone ask, someone who he recognizes as Sally Avril.
“Well, mine is all access, and Tony said I don’t need a badge, but I still keep mine on, red is for the normal workers, and yours is visitor three. Any more questions?” Mr. Hogan clearly wasn’t happy that he had to take care of these children, but he persevered.
“Cool…” This was Abe Brown.
Mr. Hogan glanced around, and once he was sure everyone was listening, he continued on, “So, now you will take off all metallic objects and electronic devices from your person. It's basically airport security, so I trust you can do it too,” Mr. Hogan said, and Peter already noticed people digging in their pockets for loose change and other metallic objects they forgot about.
Peter did the same, but he knew he didn't have anything because Peter already searched his pockets for spare change to help some homeless people while he had been patrolling. Peter did find a paperclip, which he put in the general bin for anyone to grab.
After everybody put their stuff in the boxes, they all lined up, Peter ending up last in line, even with Mr. Harrington.
“Mr. Hogan, I have braces, how do you want me to go about that?” Abe asked, and Mr. Hogan sighed, kneading the bridge of his nose.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. can recognize braces and medical implants and won't flag them in the system,” Mr. Hogan explained, waving the first few kids through.
F.R.I.D.A.Y announced each person as they walked through, with their name, badge colour, and if they had any unauthorized items. Flash did, but it was taken off of him quickly.
Peter hadn't been recognized by the systems, which is what he had been worrying about. Thankfully Dr. Stark wasn't smart enough to grab his fingerprints from when Peter had to do anything in the tower.
The snotty woman, maybe she could be called Mrs. Trunchbull. Definitely had the attitude, Peter thought. Anyways, Ms. Trunchbull (because Peter could tell she wasn't married) came back out to pick the tour group up from Mr. Hogan.
“Follow me children, and remember the rules!” The lady shrieked, leading everyone to the elevator.
The elevator was cramped. It was obviously meant for more people, or less people and a project, but not a whole team of antsy children, their chaperone, and a tour guide.
They landed on the Stark Museum floor, where Ms. Trunchbull let the children explore as they pleased.