Short Marvel Stories

Don't Pick On Parker 🕷

Maybe one where Peter gets bullied by Flash on a field trip to stark Tower. The Barton kids come and defend Peter
Super Peter
Ships Pepperony
Peter is Tony's 13 year old biological son
Okkk. That's cool. Cool. Set a a year after age of Ultron in 2012

The facts were plain: Peter Stark wasn't known for being nice or popular or funny or sporty. He wasn't known for being dumb or clever or nerdy or quiet. He wasn't known full stop. There wasn't anything special about this one student to separate him from the hundreds of others that passed through the crowded hallways of Midtown. He was just Peter Stark.
Just a kid.
Until school ended. Then? Then everything changed, did a 360, did a flip. After school was a completely different chapter, a completely different book all together. The second his watch ticked three-thirty, the very millisecond his bell rang Peter was off. No pause, no fuss, no nothing.
Because he had another life to be living. One in red and blue spandex lit up with the flashes of phone cameras and smiles of citizens. One where he wasn't nothing or no one or picked on or shy. One where he was the Spider-Man.
Or one where he was everything he couldn't be as Peter.
So when, on a dull Thursday morning, the two completely separate worlds collided with the force of tsunamis its was more than slightly off putting. It was actually his dad's fault if you looked back far enough. Far enough so it was a month before his incident and the two heros were seated in the billionaires jaguar on the way back from a simple mission. It was in, get the hostage free, out. Nothing too hard for Ironman and Spider-Man.
"We could make them free for all, couldn't we?" Tony asked, more to himself than Peter. Although it was a year since Tony found out about his son's spider-abilities and six months since he had helped him (after some convincing) create his alter-ego, he still monitored every Spider-Man article and drove Peter back from every single mission. Apart from Happy and Peter's childhood nanny May Parker, the public never knew about Pepper and Tony's secret undercover fourteen year old son but that didn't mean they had any less of a bond. In public they we're Mr Stark and, if anyone asked, Peter Parker (May Parker's nephew) the possible new intern.
"What, Dad?" Peter asked almost shyly.
"Oh just a few ideas. You're an under-twenty-five-above-twelve, tell me, would you and your nerd friends enjoy walking around my tower talking conspiracy theories and nonsense?" Tony phrased things so centred around his own thoughts it always took Peter a second to decipher what his quirks and metaphors actually meant. Even after living with Tony all his life he could never quite get him.
"Uh, I'm sure loads of kids would love to get a tour of Stark Industries. Especially my school, they'd be so pumped Mr-uh dad. That would be so awesome."
Nodding again. "I've been asked by the American schools council to be part of their educate America program. I though maybe a field trip or forty to Stark Industries would count as educational."
So yeah, in Peter's quickly spiralling mind it was his dad's fault.
All Tony's fault that his field trip happened to be to Stark Industries, all Tony's fault he was now stood in an intern lab with Abe Attah, Betty Brant, Eugene Thompson, Sally Ingerman, Charles Barbieri, Seymour Totah, Ned Leeds and MJ Jones, all his mentors fault that the day of his tour just happened to be coinciding with the Barton's visit.
All his fathers fault. But that didn't change it or get rid of his problem.
"Okay class, this is where we've been instructed to wait for our tour guide today. They should almost be here so just talk amongst yourselves for a few minutes please." Mr Warren told them, formal as ever. As the blob of yellow jackets in a blue and steel room, it didn't take their guide long to spot them. He was young enough to be young but not anywhere near the teen intern floor that Peter and Cooper messed around in which was good, he hoped they weren't going there. If his friend was anywhere it would be on floor nineteen.
"Hello Midtown! I'm going to be showing you around for today. For starters, welcome to Stark Tower and I hope you have the best day possible. Fire exits are to your left incase of emergency but I don't think there'll any chance of that today. Okay, everyone ready? We'll get going straight away then." He almost skipped away, Mr Warren looking like a confused duckling walking behind him in his saffron coat, "The first place we're going is floor eighteen. That's where the main interns work. Do you all know what an intern is?"
Floor eighteen. Nothing bad could happen on floor eighteen, right?
For once Peter was glad only the few smart pupils were in the decathlon team, the elevator was squished enough as it was and Ned gazing wondrously up at the tour guide was close to making Peter laugh but Flash stood in front of him and Peter didn't want to know if he'd noticed yet. He'd prefer to just hop out of the steel box and be done with the day but that wasn't an option yet. Peter was hoping it'd come up as a choice at some point soon.
"And this is the main interning room," The elevator doors slid open almost theoretically to a bright room, desks around the walls and a carpet of the entire city beyond the window. "If you ever want to work here when you're older, this'll be the place."
"Don't they take college students too, though?" Flash stuck up his hand but didn't wait for the nod to say he could speak. His beaming face when the guide smiled at him only added to the innocent student asking an innocent question feeling he knew he would get. But his question were never just simple curiosity.
"They do, we're heading there now. Floor nineteen is for the level one to four interns. That's age seventeen up, so not for you lot just yet. You've done your research!" Mr Tour Guide answered, striding past the busy worker and down the stairs to the side. Peter almost puked when the black letters ONE and NINE came into view above the door. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong in the worst way wrong could go and he was still blaming Tony, it was the only thing he seemed to be able to think. Tony's fault, Tony's fault, Tony's fault. Over and over, keeping him grounded and tied firm. If he couldn't blame Tony, he could blame Cooper and if he couldn't blame Cooper he could blame Mr Warren. 
It was a nice room though, even with the dreaded thoughts. Twenty-odd cubicles were set in around the multicoloured walls, each with a desk and window. In the middle was shared equipment benches, piled high with pots of bright highlighters and stacked folders. Each intern was allowed to paint their own wall space resulting in a clash of shades and tones resembling unicorn brains smeared along the wallpaper, in the nicest way possible. As whole, it was kind of beautiful. A little piece of everyone's character for the world to see.
The guid was oblivious to the storm clouds gathering over Peter and continued to a deserted workbench with a Scottish flag painted above, pulling over a few impressive looking objects to show their teacher. He wasn't sure whether to be relived or even more worried.
Flash didn't need anymore proof. Peter was too busy trying not to trip and fall into the rapidly growing pit of worry pooling at his feet to see him approach and Ned was to caught up in his excitement to see anything but the angel halo above the intern's heads.
"Oh my god this is so cool, dude!"
"Yeah-"
There wasn't even time to finish his sentence before another voice overlapped, this one louder and a lot prouder.
"Peter Parker lied!"
Everyone jumped. The nine interns in the room looked up and swivelled to stare at the source of their disruption. The nine other student looked at him. The teacher and tour guide both glanced up from their table at the side of the room but dismissed it after a second. A few people tried to speak but Flash got there first. Again. As always.
"Peter Parker said he had an internship. Parker li-ied. Parker lied. Parker lied." The fifteen year old chanted, like Peter's 'Tony's fault' chant but worse. But louder. Another few rounds of it later, Betty began laughing. Then Charles. Then Seymour. Then Abe. Then the tour guide chuckled a little from where he was watching.
Peter was wishing for his pit of despair to come back so he could just jump in and never be seen again. Why couldn't Flash accept for once Peter wasn't always wrong? Peter wasn't always the punching bag, the idiot, the fuck-up, the liar?
Peter Parker spun webs but never lies if he could help it. He could be called at lot of things, he could put up with a lot of things but this was too far.
"I didn't lie, Flash." He said, almost spat. Everyone began to laugh a little quieter so they could hear what he had to say. He didn't really have much.
"Oh yeah? Your chances of having an internship here are about as much as me beating Usain Bolt. Zero. If you're so smart you should be able to accept that you're wrong, Parker. W-r-o-n-g. Want me spell it out for you again?"
Peter didn't reply. Parker wasn't even his real name. Where was the point protesting if he was just going to look dumb? Just going to look like a douchebag?
There wasn't a point.
Peter let it go.
Flash didn't.
"People always say orphans and foster kids are more attention seeking." The older boy rolled his eyes, looking around the circle of people that had now gathered around the two greedily. No sounds except laughter and Flash's ego inflating and-
Clop clop clop clop
Little clops.
Clop clop clop
Like boots on a marble floor but smaller.
Clop clop
Uh oh.
Clop-hm
Peter knew that sound.
And he wished he didn't.
"Orphan smore-fan. He ain't got no ma but still got a billion more brains than you."
There was only one child Peter knew who wore wellington boots and bossy attitude as comfortably as that. Mj gave her a nod, smirking just a little.
"Lila. How can I help you?" Peter gritted his teeetb, accepting his fate and stepping forwards to watch the spectacle. Nine year old Lila in light-up rainbow boots, hands on hips and Nate strapped to her back stood in all of her one-hundred-and-twenty-eight centimetre glory, facing fifteen year old Flash. It was almost comical. Somebody gets out a phone to film, but Ned slaps it out of their hand.
"Where'd you come from, huh? Why don't you run off and find your mummy? Does she work here?" Flash cooed. The boy pushed himself onto one knee and gave a sloppily put together smile.
"My mummy doesn't work here. I'm nine, not two." She informed him.
"Your daddy then? Are you lost, sweetie?" Betty asked as Flash stood up, cheeks a little red. Marginally better.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, her brother bit me when I asked that." An intern called out from behind their screen. No one replied but Abe and Ned took a step back.
"My daddy isn't an intern. He shoots people for a living. I'm here with my brother, his name is Cooper. We're playing hide-and-go-seek." Lila rolled her eyes, "anyways, I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to Peter." She said matter-of-factly, swinging round to reveal a giggling baby stuffed into her backpack. Nate waved his arms happily towards Peter, who sighed and scooped him into his arms. It was when he turned to adjust his grip on the baby that his Spider-sense raised a notch.
It only took him only a moment to find out what -or who- triggered it. With a fond eye roll, he waited for the no doubt dramatic entrance that was sure to come.
"Seriously, somebody take the kid home." Charles says, just as a certain someone decided to show up.
"Peter! Good to see you, my man. And they're already home Barbieri, so shut it." Cooper Barton laughed, skidding down from his blue swing chair that he had hung from the ceiling all those weeks ago. It was above his desk cubicle but Cooper didn't have much paperwork and liked being able to see over the top, so he just moved his seat higher. It was also a good spot to scare the shit out of tired interns from.
"Hey, dude." Peter clapped him on the back, not bothering with anything else but a tired sigh.
"And who the fuck are you?"
"Peter was right, wayyy more dick in the personality than in the pants. I'm Cooper. I'd like you to note that, before you say anything dumb, don't mess with me. Maybe write it down if you can't remember."
It was then everyone saw the four sharpened arrows and compound bow around his shoulder. Unsurprisingly, no one messed with him.
"Good. Come along Petey Pie. And Eugene? You better get training for that race, I heard Usain Bolt's a hard one to beat."
In a far more graceful manner than they had arrived, Peter, Lila, Cooper and Nate left.