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Being a Stark [Superfamily]

Chapter 13

Roosevelt subway station is pretty much how the website described it; abandoned and old. It’s dusty everywhere, and there’s spiders all around the corner. The rails have been rusted, the air smells funny. There’s a lot here reminding him that it’s an old place.

Tony taps against the ear-piece he put on earlier, testing it for a moment.

“FRIDAY, you’re there?” he asks.

“At your service, sir,” FRIDAY says, and Tony rolls his eyes at her sarcastic tone. She’s much like JARVIS when it comes to that.

“Well, what am I looking at here?” he asks, putting on the glasses to get some screens in front of his eyes. “And please don’t give me the obvious, I don’t need the obvious.”

“I don’t know what else to give you, sir,” FRIDAY answers. Sassy girl, Tony snorts before going to the turnabout-thing. It looks a bit out of place, as if it’s much newer than the other stuff. After a slight pull, he understands that it’s probably been installed much later.

What he understands, too, is that he can’t really force it to turn, either.

“The website said something about a secret elevator, didn’t he?” Tony asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer as he gives the entire room a long look. “Try and find something for me, dear?”

“You seem pretty chipper for somebody who just figured out he’s got a son, sir,” FRIDAY adds, but Tony can see the scan being performed on his screens. For a short moment, he waits while leaning against the wall, putting his hand on his chin.

“Yeah, well… I don’t know, guess it hasn’t really gotten through yet,” Tony says. He’s immensely aware of what exactly has changed in his life now. Mary admitted that Tony is Peter’s father, but somehow the shock doesn’t seem as big to him as he thinks she would have expected.

He has spent a lot of time with the kid in the past few weeks. Even he knows that the intelligence Peter is showing is much more than what his mother had. But Tony never dared to hope, because he knows he’s always been careful about these sorts of things.

“I don’t suppose it has gotten through about what happened between you and Mr. Rogers, either then?”

Tony glared at the ceiling, even though she’s not there but in his ear instead.

“You’re extremely sassy today, what’s gotten into you, FRIDAY?” Tony asks in a mutter. “You’re not afraid you’re going to be replaced now that you have a little brother, are you?”

There’s no answer, and Tony snorts.

“Ah, c’mon, you know that you’ll always be my favorite girl,” he says with a wink.

“Hysterical,” FRIDAY answers dryly. “There’s a hidden elevator underneath the train rails, and there’s a wagon underneath.”

“My, my, it must be my birthday,” Tony says before walking towards the rails. When he takes a good look at it, he does notice the lines that show where the plates separate. If he can find the source of the signal that brings it up, he might be able to open the thing again.

This right here, this is exactly what he’s good at. Takes another good look at the place with the help of the screens on his glasses, and then he goes to his toolbox and starts tinkering around.

It takes about an hour due to the old technology and the lack of internet in the place, but eventually, he does think he’s got it right. Giving FRIDAY the instruction to go on, Tony waits patiently for the plates to go up and reveal the train wagon.

And as it shakily rises, Tony can read the number written on top of it. Wagon 5, E241 Street. On the side, there’s 6688 written with white paint. The thing doesn’t look like it’s suited for driving anymore, but even from the outside, Tony can see the cables and old screens stacked together.

He doesn’t speak when the electricity turns itself on. When the doors open automatically, he simply takes a step forward and tries to brace himself for what he’s going to find.

As it turns out, it’s some sort of mobile lab. It’s small, and probably not a good place for Banner to work in without testing his anger issues, but somehow it’s still open. Probably because somebody must have cleaned this place up a bit before they left. Everything is put away neatly, covered with a few layers of dust collected from the years. Tony guides a spider away from his face by replacing the web to another place against the sides.

He notes quickly that there are things in the fridge. Things that were supposed to stay cool, but now surely aren’t useable anymore for whatever they needed it for. Tony just walks it by; he knows quite some things about biology, but it’s not his field. Nor his interest. That’s more Banner’s thing.

“Oh Bruciebear, how I could have used your wisdom right now,” Tony mutters while leaning forward to have a look at a microscope, but unable to place whatever he’s seeing in front of him. That’s probably too old to look like how it’s supposed to look like.

He almost has a heart-attack when he sees the extremely old monitor on the desk, his heart aching at the ancient technology this entire wagon uses, limited by the technology of their time. The screen is lid up, and there’s one single message popping up on the screen.

Message sent.

It says nothing more. Tony hesitates a bit before reaching out for the mouse, and then he starts moving it around to check if it still works. When he cursor on the screen moves, he lets out a triumphant sound.

Alright, let’s see what secrets this grandpa holds,” Tony says, clicking open a few folders but finding mostly reports on however they’ve advanced in their breakthrough. He already puts his phone on the table, tapping away on a few buttons before pressing on ‘confirm’. With that, all the data that is currently on this computer is being downloaded onto his memory.

“Yay,” Tony exclaims softly before continuing his work. “FRIDAY, have you figured anything out from this place?”

“It seems like the computer was reactivated around June 2015. From what I can get from the computer, all the processes had been frozen before Mrs. Fitzpatrick managed to send the original message. After reactivation, everything resumed working, including the automatic e-mail Mary Fitzpatrick had prepared for you.”

Tony nods before looking around for a bit. When he looks up, he notices something small in the corner of the wagon. A wide grin appears on his face, and Tony points towards the camera hanging there.

“FRIDAY, try and get me some footage of what happened here in June 2015,” he says.

“Of course, sir,” FRIDAY answers shortly. Then Tony pulls his glasses back down on his nose, and sticks his attention on the images on the screen. There he can see FRIDAY working her magic as the footage appears in front of him.

There stands Peter, walking exactly where Tony just walked, looking younger, stronger in a way. Tony watches as Peter looks at something on the screen Tony is currently finding himself in front of. For a long while, that’s all he sees. But then, Peter moves again, having a quick look around before leaving the wagon again. After that, the screen goes dark again.

“How exactly did that message send if the computer was turned off?” he wonders to himself, typing some stuff away on the keyboard until he finds the messaging program. There, in sent items, Tony quickly finds the one message Mary addressed to him.

“The message didn’t seem to be officially sent when Mrs. Fitzpatrick made it. The computer froze before finishing processing. Since Peter turned it back on, it must have resumed its work,” FRIDAY explains just as Tony is figuring it out. He leans back in his seat for a bit and lets out a long sigh. Then he takes a look at the phone, and reaches out his hand to see if the documents have been downloaded yet.

When the phone suddenly starts ringing, he startles, pulling his hand back just a tiny bit. On the screen, a number appears, but one unfamiliar to Tony. Not a lot of people have Tony’s personal number, so he wonders if this could be a mistake? Carefully, Tony takes the phone, and presses the ‘answer’ button.

“Hello?” he asks, not bothering to say his name.

“Yeah, this is Andrea Scott from Midtown High school. Am I talkin’ to Mr. Parker?”

Tony frowns, pulling the phone away from his ear for a small second before putting it back in place. Midtown High? That’s Peter’s school… What has the kid been up to, now?

“This is, uh, him?” Tony tries, making a grimace as the lie rolls out with trouble. He never liked Richard out of principle, and he feels even worse pretending to be him in the dead guy’s mobile lab.

“Yeah, uh, your son got into a fight during lunch, and the principal’s wonderin’ if you might be open to come and speak with him? I already tried his… Aunt? She won’t pick up, I’m afraid, so your son gave me your number instead.”

A fight?! Tony shoots up from where he’s seated, already marching out of the wagon in record time. It helps to have a little more space if he wants to have a conversation like this.

“A fight, you say? What exactly happened?”

“Listen, sir, I don’t really have the time to start explaining this. It’s probably better you ask the principal about it…”

Tony snorts, already imagining this girl sitting at her desk, playing with her hair as she chews her gum and talks on for hours in that annoyingly nasally voice.

“What time should I be there?” he asks with a sigh.

“Around four will be fine. Thank you, sir,” Andrea says before hanging up the phone. Tony just scoffs, leaving his mouth open in his surprise and then shaking his head. With a half turn, he faces the train again, a bit annoyed that he doesn’t get to inspect the thing a bit more right now.

He’ll have to return for it, later. It’s already one in the afternoon, and Tony is still greasy all over from working at the workshop.

“It’s fun to be a parent, isn’t it?” FRIDAY suddenly says out of nowhere. Tony glares once more at the ceiling.

“You know, when I programmed you I probably added a little bit too much of sarcasm. Maybe I should take some back?” he threatens her.

“I know you would never touch my code, sir,” FRIDAY still states the obvious, and Tony shakes his head and throws his arms up. She got him, there.

Sitting at detention, Peter has his arms crossed in front of him and his head resting on the desk as he waits for the hour to pass. His homework is already finished, and his newspaper is read through completely.

A few desks away from him, Flash – with now a very black eye – is throwing spit-balls at Peter’s head. So far, Peter hasn’t reacted to it. He knows that if he would open his mouth, it could be used against him. It’s probably better to just ignore it and wait for detention to be done with.

They’re only fifteen minutes in, and Peter already feels like the entire back of his head is soaked from Flash’ nasty spit all over his hair. What he would do right now to take a shower. He hasn’t felt so uncomfortable as right now.

Around him, there are a few more kids, all of them looking equally bored. Peter doesn’t know them by name, only that they’ve been here more often than Peter has. Another sigh escapes his mouth as he flicks away another spit-ball that missed its target and ended up on his desk, instead.

Each time the door opens, everybody looks up while hoping it’s for them. Everybody is waiting for their talk with the principal, though Peter would rather have it didn’t happen at all. There are multiple reasons for that, first off starting with the fact that he’s never been called to the principal before except for the first day he came back to school after Uncle Ben died – and that hadn’t been a strict conversation, but rather a reassuring ‘we’re all there for you’-kind of thing.

The second reason is mostly the fact that, when they couldn’t reach aunt May and they asked for another number, Peter gave out – how stupid though it is – Mr. Stark’s number instead. The woman, who took it, was new and has no idea what Peter’s home-situation is. So when Peter muttered something about ‘father’, the woman quickly came to the conclusion and called Mr. Stark so – which must have been very weird for the man.

Of course, the principal will know there’s no father to speak of. He’ll figure out that, whoever will appear in Mr. Stark’s stead will not be in any relation to him. Who would it even be? Peter can almost imagine Mr. Stark sending Steve here – or Steve offering to come instead.

So, yeah, here Peter is sitting, doodling on his piece of paper while getting spit-balls against the back of his head by the guy he might have seriously hurt when his emotions got out of control. He deserves the punishment that he’ll get, but he very much hopes that Flash, too, gets what he deserves. It’s been going on for long enough, after all.

“Peter Parker?” somebody asks, and Peter looks up from his seat, seeing the woman he gave Mr. Stark’s number to looking at him with a bored expression. She’s in her late twenties, with too-blonde hair to be called natural and a pair of glasses that must have been fashion in the sixties, but are now completely out of style. Every time Peter sees her, it seems like she’s chewing on some gum, creating bubbles with that ever-present bored expression on her face.

Peter’s heart jumps when he hears his name. With lots of hesitation inside of him but without showing it, Peter puts his stuff back into his bag and closes it before following the woman – he doesn’t even know her name – out of the detention room. The hallways are empty now; everybody is already back at home or still on their way.

The journey to the principal’s office isn’t long; the detention-room is pretty close to it, only two rooms further. Peter waits at the door while the woman knocks on the door. After getting a confirming sound from the other side, she opens the door and points at Peter to get inside.

Which he does, only to have his mouth fallen open.

“Mr. Parker, take a seat, please,” Principal Morita says, pointing towards the empty seat next to Mr. Stark – who isn’t looking all too happily at Peter. The teenagers tries to swallow away a sudden lump in his throat, but then obeys and drops himself down in the chair. He does his best not to look at Mr. Stark, keeping a straight posture as his eyes rest on Mr. Morita’s desk.

“I’m pretty sure you know what we’re here to talk to you about, Peter?” the Principal says. Peter nods, shame already filling his entire thought. He just wishes Mr. Stark wouldn’t have looked so… disappointed at him.

How did he even get here? Didn’t he get a ‘babysitter’ all the time? Is there somebody waiting for them outside? Probably Steve, no?

“Uh, I don’t suppose it has anything to do with my science project?” Peter tries, only to receive a scowl from both Mr. Morita and Mr. Stark. Peter gulps, knowing this is not the right time to be funny. “Or maybe because I punched a bully in the face?”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re proud of that?” Mr. Stark says sternly. Peter frowns, wondering what exactly he’s supposed to be here. His mentor? His father? When he turns to give Mr. Stark a questioning look, all he gets in return is a frown and a whole lot of frustration.

“Mr. Stark, I’m sure you know from Mrs. Parker that Peter’s had a rough time this past year. We understand that his emotions have been tested, now-“

“You know, I’m right here, I can hear everything,” Peter mutters.

“You better not test us here, Peter,” Mr. Morita warns him, but Peter then shakes his head.

“No, I’m going to test all I want,” he suddenly starts in a strange act of surprising bravery. He stands up from his chair, surprising everybody in the room, including himself. “Because for years there has been nothing but bullying coming from that boy. He punches other teens, pushes them against the walls. Others come home bruised! They even assaulted Ned on the streets in the evening!-“

“Peter,” Mr. Stark calmly says in between. Peter doesn’t hear it.

“-but nobody dares to mention it, because they’re all afraid of him. So people give their lunch-money, and their homework, because they’re afraid that, if they won’t, they’ll get their face smashed in a plate full of spaghetti or they get to come home with bruised ribs!”

“Peter,” Mr. Stark says once more, a little louder.

“And sure, I can handle the fact that he gets to me! Hey, better me than somebody else, I suppose. But he shouldn’t have brought up Gwen! Because I know she’s dead because of me; she was there when she shouldn’t have been. She only followed me, and I couldn’t save her, and Flash doesn’t get to laugh at that because my best friend was the one to throw her off the building!”

Oh lord, is he crying? Peter is pretty sure he’s crying. Yup, there are tears rolling over his cheeks. In a hurry, he tries to wipe them away, thinking back of how his voice had been cracking during that last sentence. Mr. Morita is looking at him in surprise, as if he’s wondering how exactly innocent little Peter could make such a drama.

Mr. Stark, in return, is giving him a weird look that looks like a combination of anger but sadness at the same time. Who it is directed to, Peter has no idea.

When Peter realizes that he’s having a bit of difficulty at stopping with the sudden crying, Mr. Morita offers him a tissue. Fully ashamed, Peter dabs his eyes dry, head pointed down to avoid eye-contact with anybody.

“Peter, I understand that the subject concerning Mrs. Stacey is a sensitive one for you, but that doesn’t give you the right to start throwing punches,” Mr. Morita then starts. Mr. Stark stays awfully quiet next to Peter. “We always have somebody who would be willing to talk with you about these past happenings.”

“I’m already at therapy,” Peter mutters bitterly.

“We’ve already decided we won’t suspend you, but punishment must still be made. Mr. Stark and I have arranged something that will not interfere with your internship, so on the days you’re not working, you’ll have detention for the upcoming two weeks.”

Peter doesn’t answer anymore, because there’s nothing else left to say. He gives Mr. Stark a quick look, but there’s nothing to be read from him. While Mr. Stark had looked angry before, now he just appears like somebody kicked his puppy.

Just as he expects anybody to say something, some cold chill passes through him. Something is about happen, and his entire body is aware of it. He tries to say something, to warn Mr. Stark and Mr. Morita about the danger that might be nearing, but then they suddenly hear a loud crash in the hallway.

It’s not the sound that comes when somebody crashes the door angrily, neither is it one where the wind smashes it close before anybody else can do it. This is the sort of sound that reminds Peter of the time the Lizard invaded the school.

“Oh come on, again?” Mr. Morita complains. He gets up from his seat and hurries to open up the door, where he’s greeted by a thick cloud of dust flying into his face. On the other side of the hallway, two figures start running towards them. Peter tries to get a good look of it, but he’s suddenly pushed aside by Mr. Stark, who looks extremely alert and ready to get in action despite not wearing the suit.

“Stay behind me, Peter,” Mr. Stark tells him, and Peter wants to protest, to say that he’ll be fine. But a normal teenage boy would shield away behind a hero whenever there’s real danger. If he wants to stay away from suspicion, pretending to be weak might be the better thing to do in this situation.

What’s going on? Is it the Goblin again? Is he after Peter once more? He wouldn’t put it past Harry, but right now he really wishes it isn’t him. Harry is the last person he needs to see right now; he already knows his dreams will be filled with bad memories.

The last thing Peter expects to show up from the fog of dust is Wade. Even less a Wade wearing the school’s cheerleading uniform and jumping up high in the air with pompoms while he tries to evade somebody.

Somebody that looks like Wolverine.

“Oh, not again…” Peter mutters, realizing he almost sounds like his principal. The last time Wolverine and Deadpool faced off, Peter almost missed his interview about the internship. Why can’t these two just get past their problems like normal human beings?

Oh… wait, stupid question.

“Hi Peter! Peter’s da- I mean Iron Man! Peter’s principal!” Deadpool calls out before running off again. In one swift jump, he flies out of the window only to land on the ground – just not the right way. As he lies on the ground with all of his bones pointing the wrong way, Wolverine starts to walk towards the window to check out the damage.

“Come on! Can you just stop trying to kill me all the time?!” Deadpool shouts from where he crashed.

“Huh, looks pretty alive to me…” Wolverine mutters, already moving to jump out of the window as well.

“Excuse me, are you out of your mind?!”

Well, Peter would have expected Mr. Morita to say this. Instead, it’s Mr. Stark who marches up towards Wolverine and glares at him as if his look could kill him.

“Stark, it’s been a while. Where’s the suit?” Wolverine asks. Mr. Starks hands ball into tight fists, and Peter swallows nervously.

“On lockdown, which you should be as well! There are children in here, and you could have killed them!” Mr. Stark shouts at him. Wolverine just scoffs, turning to look towards Mr. Morita and Peter standing a little back in the Principal’s office.

“It’s after school,” Wolverine mutters, fishing out a cigar from somewhere in his jacket and putting it on regardless of being inside. “Kids are at home.”

“Ever heard of detention before? Or wait, one should actually have gone to school to know what that means,” Mr. Stark grumbles back. Then he gets an angry look from the other man, who seems like he’s at the verge of striking Mr. Stark down as well.

Then, much to Peter’s surprise, the mutant starts laughing. His hand comes to his stomach and he leans his head back while there are laughing lines showing around his eyes. Peter wants to know what could possibly be so funny right now, but he doesn’t dare ask, instead just looking back out of the window and seeing Wade still lying there. Though this time it looks like his left leg is already healed back in place. Now the rest…

“Ah, Stark, always fun talking with ya,” Wolverine says, though his tone doesn’t sound like he finds it ‘fun’ indeed. Then, without a warning, he jumps out of the window to get back to Deadpool, but when Peter casts one third look, it seems like the guy has disappeared. How did he do that?

Mr. Stark doesn’t react to it, instead turning around and pulling up his phone. In the hallway now the leftover teenagers from detention appear, taking in the carnage that is left in the building. Flash looks in horror when he sees that the football-trophy has been destroyed.

Peter doesn’t listen to what Mr. Stark is saying to the person on the other line. All he can see is Flash. While the guy is usually being all tough and ‘Mr. Strong’, right now he looks vulnerable, actually sad. One would wonder how a stupid trophy could mean so much, but the longer Peter thinks of it, the more he comes to understand that Flash might actually have worked hard for the school to get that trophy.

Flash may be a jerk, but he still accomplished things…

That’s also probably why he’s never really punished for all the bullying he does. But… why does he do it?

“Listen, prince, I suggest a bargain,” Mr. Stark starts to the Principal as Peter observes Flash some more. With divided attention, Peter tries to catch up on the conversation. “I’ve already called up the contractors, and they’ll come and work on the school to fix it back up. I’m not going to cancel them if you say ‘no’, but would you agree that Peter gets off the hook? I’ll make sure he’ll work extra-hard at the workshop, instead.”

Mr. Morita looks surprised, but Peter doesn’t know at what. That Mr. Stark took care of this already? Or that the man would even try to bargain about this? Peter can almost see the gears working in his head when he turns around for a second, but then the man holds out his hand towards Mr. Stark and nods in agreement.

“I think it’s the least we can do. Thank you very much, Mr. Stark.”

Mr. Stark just waves it off before facing Peter again. Then he nods towards the chair he had been sitting on, pointing at the backpack. Without having to say anything, Peter understands completely what he wants. He hurries back inside the office, takes his bag, and then hurries after Mr. Stark, who is already making his way out.

Who would have thought that Wade would have saved his ass today? At least, along with Mr. Stark, that is.





Awaiting them in front of the school – while still nervously holding the Iron Man case – is Happy, former bodyguard of Tony Stark who has now taken back up the role for some reason even Tony can’t really explain. Tony greets his friend with a short greeting, and then hurries into the back of the car. Happy just puts the case back into the trunk.

“Peter, get inside,” Tony instructs Peter when the kid seems to hesitate a little while longer. Peter nods before hurrying into the car, taking a seat next to Tony. He claps his hands between his knees and waits for Happy to start driving. Tony still keeps his gaze away from the teenager next to him.

His freaking son…

“Where to?” Happy asks.

“Queens, the kid’s house. Give him your address, kid.”

Peter hesitates, but does as he’s told. Happy types in the address into the gps-system that has been installed in the car by Tony himself and then starts driving, continuously keeping his eyes locked on the road but still attempting to check out what is happening in the back.

“Listen, kid, there’s obviously some things we need to talk about,” Tony starts after they’ve been driving for five minutes. They’re already stuck in traffic, and immediately Tony regrets not taking the suit to fly them out of here.

Of course, an order is an order – even though Tony’s never been one to follow them in the past – so he stays away from it.

“Who did you introduce yourself as?” Peter asks before Tony can even start with whatever he wants to talk about. Then Tony sees him slap his hand on his mouth, as if he’s embarrassed for slipping it out so carelessly.

And then it hits him; is it really the best idea to tell Peter what his mother just told him? Does Peter need to know that his father is just about the biggest wreck one could have as a family? One that can’t even figure out his own feelings towards…

No, wait, that’s not the right time to think about this.

“I told him I was your mentor, and that I was close friends with your aunt,” Tony says, and then he reaches for his pocket and takes out a folded piece of paper. “And I also might have had your aunt’s signature forged to make this letter.”

Peter takes the sheet out of Tony’s hands and reads through the words. In a writing that resembles May Parker’s perfectly, he’s explained that Tony Stark is a friend of the family, and has permission to pick Peter up in case she would be incapable of doing so. There’s no chance Peter will be quickly known in school as the ‘son of Tony Stark’ because of some teachers gossiping.

“Mr. Stark, is there something wrong?” Peter asks after fifteen minutes of silent driving. They’re slowly nearing Peter’s house, but so far Tony hasn’t managed to get anything out. There’s so much to talk about, but Tony can’t figure out where to begin.

Or if it’s even a good idea to share the information with him. Surely, Peter probably already knows, if that DNA-test is something to go by, but does he need to know that Tony knows?

It’s not that Tony doesn’t want to be a father. He’d even been thinking about it with Pepper for a while now. But when he thought he’d have a kid, he’d at least hoped he could get the cute toddler-years along with it. Not that Peter can’t be just as important to Tony as any other kid he would have had with Pepper had it gotten that far, but Tony barely knows anything about the kid.

“Everything’s fine, Peter,” Tony answers in panic, head turned towards the window while watching the rain fall. He’s sure Peter knows he’s lying, because Tony is not at all succeeding in giving him a convincing poker-face. Luckily for him, the kid doesn’t seem to want to press it.

Eventually, Happy stops the car in front of Peter’s house. Tony realizes then that he hasn’t spoken a single word about it at all. Even as he opens his mouth, he finds that he lacks the words to speak. He wants to tell Peter everything he knows, but there’s no good way the words form in his mouth.

So Tony simply keeps quiet, nodding towards Peter’s house and forcing up a fake but hopefully convincing smile.

“You go back up now,” he says. “I’ll see you at the compound, tomorrow.”

Peter looks surprised. His eyes are open wide, and a fly could just fly into his mouth if he doesn’t close it soon.

“Uh, alright,” Peter says, and in obvious hesitation, Peter reaches for the door and opens it up. When he’s outside, he waits for a little moment longer before closing it again and starting to walk back into the apartment complex.

Seeing the boy disappear in the building, Tony takes a deep breath and asks Happy to start driving again. What he needs right now is a good talk with Rhodey, or hell, even Pepper. He needs someone socially smarter in his life to help him guide through this.

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