Chapter Text
Peter looked up from his phone, feeling a bit nauseated from looking down for too long. Happy had already pulled up the privacy screen, so Peter was left to look out the window and admire the neighbourhood fly past his eyes, noting the familiar dark corners and alleyways.
Being driven to Stark Industries every week became a common occurrence for him after being promoted to Tony Stark’s personal intern from an R&D intern. His work with renewable energy sources and optimising their output must have gotten his attention. Little did Mr Stark know that he had managed to pick out Spider-Man out of all people to intern with him, that is until Peter told him.
It was only a matter of time until Mr Stark would connect the dots and figure it out, from the incredibly accurate knowledge on the Avengers’ fighting styles and extensive combat knowledge, to the bruises, lacerations and incredibly similar voices and mannerisms that he was sure FRIDAY would pick out easily. So, Peter wanted to tell him directly, to finally drop his final mask just as Mr Stark had when their relationship blossomed into something a bit more than a mentor/mentee relationship.
Soon the two vigilantes could be seen flying, or swinging, across New York’s skyline, with Spider-Man decked out in new shades of red and blue, courtesy of one Iron Man. Though, Peter did help out (he was a kid-genius after all) and coded his suit’s companion, Karen. His experience in helping out the Avengers with their own weapons and suits definitely helped, mostly with knowing what weapons he should design his suit to protect himself from.
“Alright kid, out you get, go pester Tony,” Happy’s gruff voice interrupted his thoughts accompanied by a jerk of the car. The SI building towered over them in all its might.
“Thanks, Happy!” Peter replied, unaffected by Happy’s seemingly disinterested tone, Peter knew how to see through the man’s gruff exterior. He clambered out of the car and scurried into the building.
Sometimes he forgets just how crazy his life is; a high-schooler interning at Stark Industries under the man himself, helping the Tony Stark with the Avengers’ gear. But, he was Spider-Man, and he supposed that was probably the craziest of all his experiences. A small smile tugs at his lips, that is until he sees Mr Stark directing someone out of the lift and towards the doors of the building.
It was odd enough to see Mr Stark on the ground level; in the reception, Peter would normally meet him in the lab where he had holed up for the week. But here was Mr Stark having a meeting with someone on a Friday, lab day, and dressed reasonably.
“Thank you very much for your time Stark, I look forward to your response.”
Oh. Oh god mcfuckin’ no.
Peter’s feet slowed down, his excitement draining. His movement came to a stop halfway to the lift. Suddenly, his bag stuffed with the blue and red suit seemed heavy. Too heavy. It made the feeling of carrying the weight of the responsibilities of the world seem like a balloon. He knew that voice, he knew that man.
What’s Norman doing here? What’s he doing in my house with my da- mentor?
“I already told you, I’m not interested,” Mr Stark spits out with an eye roll, “but clearly your pride won’t let you hear a ‘no’.” Unlike Osborn, Mr Stark’s annoyance was blatant, possibly verging on anger and disgust.
Osborn just returned a tight-lipped smile, “This proposal was quite abrupt, so I’ll give you some time to think it over,” turning around with the intention to walk out. Only, his eyes reached Peter’s, just as Mr Stark noticed his presence as well, and the air of annoyance turned into one of concern.
Upon making eye contact with Peter, Osborn’s smile turned into an eerie grin and triggered a faint tickle on Peter’s neck. His leather shoes began to move, clacking against the pristine white floor, and his stature moved towards the door, but the direction was slightly off.
Oh, he’s walking to me.
The tickle turned into an electrifying shock that ran down Peter’s back, get out, get away , his spidey senses screamed. But his body refused to obey, his feet seemingly stuck to the ground from anxiousness, though he could have very well been genuinely stuck.
A clap on his shoulder broke through his thoughts, “Pete, fancy seeing you here! Look at you, you’ve grown so much since the last time we met,” Osborn’s sickly grin still festered on his face and his eyes roamed Peter’s face, looking him up and down, inspecting, judging... approving?
“Yes sir, I believe it was at the funeral,” Peter managed to croak out. Memories of Harry came flooding back, along with the emotions, fear, guilt, anger, loneliness. He was not going to let Norman get the better of him.
“Just remember, you always have a spot at Oscorp,” Osborn said, ignoring Peter’s weak attempt at a quip, and his eyes glinted with something sinister before adding, “Harry and I always considered you family after all,” before he left with another pat on Peter’s shoulder.
The electricity gradually dissipated into the air as Osborn strode out of the building with a triumphant smile that Peter was sure he could see from the back of Osborn’s head. Still in shock and his feet possibly still stuck to the ground, Peter did not hear Mr Stark walking up from behind.
“Hey Pete, what was that about?” Mr Stark asked. Moving his gaze back to Mr Stark’s face, Peter could see his face crinkled with concern and worry, right because he doesn’t know about Harry.
“Nothing, he just wanted to steal me for his, oh so amazing Oscorp Internship,” Peter recovered his confidence and shot his mentor a small smile, “but I had to decline, someone still has to stay and take care of you in your old age.”
“Why you little sh-”
“Nu uh, there’s a child present, no naughty words,” Peter sang while wagging his index finger.
Mr Stark shot him a glare before pulling Peter in and walking them to the lift.
“Alright, kid , let's go restock birdbrain’s quiver so he can stop moping.”
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“Hey Mr Delmar, a number 5 with pickles and squish it down real flat please,” Peter called out as he walked up to the counter of the shop.
May had a double shift today so she didn’t have time to make dinner for Peter, and after the odd encounter at SI, he decided to walk his way back home. Time to time Peter would take the long way back home and get food on the way, sometimes it's to give him some time to think through a roadblock in a project he worked on during the internship, and sometimes it’s just to appreciate the silence of the night and have a break from the whirlwind of life.
“Alright, here you go,” Mr Delmar said as they exchanged the warm sandwich for crumpled notes, “See you Mr Parker.”
“Thanks Mr Delmar,” Peter responded with a small smile and a light wave. A jingle of the bell above the door indicating his exit, leaving the warm, comfy atmosphere of Mr Delmar’s bodega.
He rummaged through the plastic bag and unwrapped the crinkled paper soggy with sauce and pickle juice, which somehow still looked appetizing to Peter’s loud stomach. Instead, it was the thought of Norman Osborn that dampened his hunger.
What was Norman doing there? He mentioned a project, but Mr Stark didn’t warn me about it in the lab, so it must not be related to Spider-Man. After all, it wasn’t like I told him the Oscorp part of the story
But, how did Norman remember me?
The only interactions they had were when Harry would pick him up in their car on the way to school, saving him from a bag (or few) of drenched textbooks. Not to mention, it had been 2 years since he last saw the man, which, as Peter had said, was at Harry’s funeral. Norman could barely remember his own son’s birthday, yet he remembered Peter’s name and relationship with Harry?
Harry Osborn, his childhood best friend.
They used to do the most explosive, expensive, ridiculous experiments at Oscorp tower, nothing could stop the two mad scientists. That was until Spider-Man entered the frame.
Harry disagreed with vigilantes, especially masked vigilantes, following his father’s sentiments, claiming that they did not have any right to take the law into their hands and still expect to keep their identities. The mask, they thought, was to keep them from having to deal with the consequences of their actions; what happens when they screw up, what then?
But Peter, wanting to tell Harry his secret, tried to stand his ground. All that earned him was a soured friendship, because for all the evidence brought up, Harry still believed Spider-Man was incapable of saving people and not making a mess of things, let alone be considered a hero.
I guess he was right. Peter thought with a somber bite into his sandwich as he walked down the dimly lit street. His spidey senses seemed to agree from the presence of a rising hairs on his arms.
And that was the last he saw of Harry. Peter had taken off, donning the red and blue behind his back to save a nearby house engulfed by flames, leaving Harry. He had left his best friend on the street, soon to be barrelled through by a drunk driven car.
What good is being a superhero if you can’t even save your own friend? The spidey senses responded by an electrifying shock down his spine, agreeing with his train of thought.
It took him months after that to bring himself to even look at his scorched excuse of a suit.
Fitting for a sad excuse of a hero, let alone a friend.
Peter felt hands grabbing his head and a funny smelling cloth held over his face. He felt his consciousness slipping away.
Huh, kidnapped during a sandwich run, that's new. I hope they let me keep my sandwich.