Long Days

Chapter 2

Peter tossed his schoolbag onto the floor of his room, not caring that papers and notebooks spilled out onto the floor. All he could think about was his bed. He had about fifteen minutes to lay down and do nothing before his three-thirty alarm told him get ready for work.

The exhausted teen audibly groaned into his pillow. He had a full six-hour shift today from four to ten. By the time he got home at night, he had no energy for homework, let alone a neighborhood patrol. He hadn't even looked at his suit since he was hired about three weeks ago. He desperately missed swinging between buildings, helping old ladies cross the street, and guiding children back to their parents. Last week, Peter decided never to complain about walking drunk men home again. Looking back, that was far easier than pouring lattes for people who had high standards about coffee drinks that they didn't seem to quite understand. Explaining the difference between iced coffee and cold brew to someone who was clearly used to getting their caffeine from 7/11 required far more energy than preventing a collision between two trucks.

Regardless, Peter refused to give up his employment. His paychecks were covering their phone bill and food in the house. It was possible to survive without phones, but food was a necessity and Peter needed a lot of it.

Peter's eyes hadn't been closed for more than five minutes before his phone rang.

He groaned again.

Keeping his face pressed into the pillow and not bothering to look at the caller ID, Peter brought the phone to his ear. "Parker."

"Hey, how's it goin', kid? I got something in the lab you'll want to see. Happy'll stop by at pick you up at six, got it?"

Peter jumped out of his bed, exhaustion having been replaced by surprise. He couldn't remember the last time Tony Stark had personally called. And the mechanic had something in his lab for Peter? The aspiring Avenger could hardly believe it.

"Wow, Mr. Stark, that sounds great‒"

"Great, then I'll see‒"

"‒but I can't go," Peter admitted, regretfully. He would lose his job if he called out of work with less than an hour before the start of his shift.

"Oh? Well, then tomorrow Happy can‒"

"I can't do tomorrow either. Sunday after two should be okay." Usually Peter had morning shifts on the weekends.

"Geez, Mr. Popular, I guess if you don't mind squeezing me into your busy schedule."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark." Peter glanced at the clock on his wall. 3:28. "Uh, actually I gotta go now. I'll see you on Sunday!" And he ended the call. A month ago, Peter would have replayed the conversation in his head a hundred times, thinking of all the ways that the conversation could have gone differently. But today, he had to get ready for work and that included the mental preparation of his patience. On long days like these, he didn't have time to worry about anything besides the problems immediately in front of him.

Tony stared at his phone. Since when did the kid end calls with Tony because he had other things to do? Happy had said that Parker hadn't been texting as often as he used to. Almost immediately, Stark's anxiety stirred up. What if he was in trouble? What if he was seriously injured? What if someone identified him and was now using his identity to blackmail him? What if the aunt found out, and the kid was right about her freaking out about it? What if he realized that his mentor was actually a walking piece of crap, and now he didn't want anything to do with Tony?

To calm himself, Tony tried to think of some positive explanations. Maybe he got a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Maybe he did join the wrestling team, and he's got a string of tournaments lined up. Maybe he decided to take classes at a university because the kid's a genius, and the classes are taking a lot of time. Yeah. Maybe the kid is just working hard.

Regardless, Tony decided to figure it out on Sunday.