If They Knew All About You

The Wrong Questions

[author's note: Guys, I usually don't do notes in the beginning but I'd rather put it here than at the end. Today has been a shitty day. I try to let as little outside world stuff flow into my notes as I can because I know for many of you, fandom and reading fanfiction is a way to escape all that shit we have to deal with in real life. But today was hard as I was hurting for my friend who has just lost both her parents within two days of each other to covid-19 since I posted the last chapter.Posting this chapter a little early is my way of giving myself a little joy and I hope it brings some joy to you guys who might be struggling with the current situation as well.Be kind, wear your masks and wash your hands so maybe we don't have to lose more family and friends.]

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It was like time had come to a sudden halt. The hands on Pete's arms were still holding him onto him tightly though no longer pulling. Maybe it were his Spider-powers that had him unwittingly glued to where he stood in the middle of the courthouse's hallway. Even the reporters and photographers behind them seemed to have frozen.

It was only Mr. Stark that was moving. A camera behind Pete flashed so brightly, it started him out of his stupor. Maybe not with all his strength but a considerable amount more determined, he pulled himself in the direction of his father.

"Hey!" Mr. Stark got closer, pointing at them, the guards' promptly a lot more hesitant as they realized who was addressing them. "Hey, what the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

The older one looked down at Pete like he expected that he had his hands on something other than the boy he was still clutching, then back up at Mr. Stark. "I'm sorry, Sir. This one was trying to access the building. We just found him hiding in the bathroom. He must have come in through the window, but don't worry we—"

"That's my son you have your grubby hands on," Mr. Stark hissed, pointing a shaky finger at him. "Let him go!"

The guard's jaw dropped. "No, Sir... no, he... he made it in through—"

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you think my 13-year-old son climbed the side of the building and forced his way into a heavily guarded courthouse through a bathroom window on the second floor?" Mr. Stark sent Pete a look that he felt to his bones before he turned it squarely onto the guard.

Both guards took a beat to turn their wide eyes onto each other before the second, the door slinging one, stuttered his response. "I... I know it sounds—"

"Preposterous? Jeez, I didn't realize that I had to send security along for my son to use the restroom in the fucking courthouse!" The men's hands fell off Pete like he had spontaneously caught fire and he stepped away from them only to feel Mr. Stark's hand on his arm instead, pulling him closer. "You alright, kid?"

Pete nodded quickly, head bowed, teeth gnawing on his lip.

The younger guard almost tripped over his tongue. "I... Mr. Stark, I—I'm sorry, there... there must have been—"

"Yeah, you better be sorry," he barked. "This is unacceptable!"

Mr. Stark's hand move up from Pete's arm, holding him close by the scruff of his neck instead, and promptly leading him away from them.

"Unacceptable," Mr. Stark whispering through his teeth. He sent a glance over his shoulder back at the two men. "If either of them loses their job because of this, then compensation is going to come out of your allowance, kid. What. The. Fuck. Did I not make it clear that you were to stay in the penthouse?"