If They Knew All About You

Even Newton Had Bad Days

Peter had been two seconds away from just brewing new web fluid during his chem class. He had messaged Mr. Stark on the weekend, then again on Monday when the first shooter ran out and again on Tuesday, had asked if it was okay now to come by the Tower but Mr. Stark hadn't responded. It wouldn't even have been a big deal to brew a batch in class. He had done it countless times and nobody had ever caught him.

But Mr. Stark had said not to steal from the school supplies, so instead, Peter set out for Manhattan after school. It was a Wednesday and Wednesdays had usually been internships days for Peter. Well, almost every day had been an internship day for a couple of those weeks that Mr. Stark had worked on the suit, but - officially - Wednesdays and Fridays were the days they had agreed on. Then he had gotten the suit and his hours were cut down. He was really only supposed to drop by to maintain the suit and make new web fluid.

Peter took the subway, the familiar connection he hurried to make after school was out. Then the few short minutes it took him to walk from the station to the Tower. He stopped just as he turned the corner, eyes on the main entrance. What if Mr. Stark had revoked his access? Or if he didn't even have any form of standing access like he had thought and Mr. Stark had only ever just informed FRIDAY that he was coming and now that he hadn't asked Peter to come to the Tower, or at least confirmed the appointment, what if Peter would set off some kind of alarm with his access card? Maybe he should just call him? But the man might not even answer. Just like he hadn't with most of Peter's texts. Plus, Peter had already made it to the Tower and he really needed that batch of web fluid. He might as well go inside.

He hadn't felt this nervous walking up to the building since the first day when security had almost handed him over to the police. He walked in undisturbed this time though. They knew his face by now. He'd been in and out of the Tower plenty of times. He was familiar with the hollow echo his footsteps made on the marvel floor of the lobby. And nobody heard how loudly his heart was beating as he held up his access card to the scanner at security. The green light flashed up in seconds and he couldn't quite believe it. There he was, the elevator opening for him at the far side of the wall.

He stepped inside and waited a moment for the doors to close.

"Hi, FRIDAY."

"Hello, Peter. Good to have you back."

He smiled up at her camera. "I'm happy to be back, too. Is... erm... do you think you can get me to the lab upstairs?"

His stomach exploded with the familiar tingle as the elevator sped up to the 67th floor. The doors opened into the lab and he was actually a little surprised to see Mr. Stark right there in the middle of the room. The presence of the man in his own lab in his own Tower sure wasn't a surprise in itself, but the lab... Well, the lab.

There was stuff spread out on every available surface. Tools lying around, empty coffee cups scattered on every table, a small stack of used dishes on the ground next to the couch. Peter kicked a screwdriver across the floor when he stepped out of the elevator and it rolled into the middle of the room, only stopped by one of the workbenches. His jaw dropped and there was absolutely nothing he could even think to say. He had expected Mr. Stark to be busy. This was a different level of busy. Of course, there had to be an urgent reason as to why the man had responded so sparsely to Peter's messages or at all, really. Peter wasn't stupid, something had been in the works that day Mr. Stark and Natasha Romanoff had met Peter in Queens. But this... This did not at all look like what he had expected.

"Erm... Mr. Stark?"

The man turned around, hair wild, sticking into different directions. His face looked like he hadn't seen any daylight since the last time Peter had seen him. Or a pillow.