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He's going to see the Tony Stark.
Somewhere between fighting the Avengers (taking Captain America's shield and fighting the Winter soldier, which is probably the coolest thing Peter has ever done) and taking down the Vulture (less cool, obviously, because he still has nightmares about dark, tight places) he'd stumbled his way into a bona-fide internship.
With the Tony Stark. Totally the coolest person of all time.
Peter hitched the strap of his backpack up even higher on his shoulder, gazing nervously at the entrance doors to Stark Industries. Happy (who had picked him up from school in a limo!) Had dropped him off here with instructions to go in, hit the elevator and go up to Mister Stark's lab.
He's never been more terrified or excited in his life.
"Hey, going in?" A man asks, dressed impeccably in a dark suit. He's standing behind Peter, impatient.
"Oh. Yep. Yep. Going in now." He shoots the man a nervous smile, fingers reaching out to curl around the brass knob. Definitely going in.
His stomach flutters. He pauses.
The man behind him lets out an irritated sigh, and it spurns Peter to action.
He opens the door, stepping slowly into the foyer. The man bulldozes past, shoes clicking loudly against the linoleum.
Peter takes a moment to drink it in, fingering his backpack strap nervously.
The lobby is huge. There's a reception desk to the right, all decked out in a gold-tinted trim, and a pretty, dark haired woman sitting behind it. She appraises him, her lips puckering.
Next to her, standing stiffly with his arms crossed across his chest, is a guard.
He practically feels it the moment the man keys in on him, his eyes narrowing and his chest puffing out.
"Hey! You!" The guard orders sharply, marching across the foyer to Peter. The woman behind the counter stiffens, her gaze jumping between Peter and the man.
"Uh, yeah?" Peter asks, pausing. There's the slightest tingle across his skin, something he knows means trouble. Not danger, not yet. The tingle is more intense when it's full fledged danger.
"No visitors today," the guard informs him stiffly. He's wearing a black shirt that's so tight he might as well have been liquefied into it.
"Oh. Uh. I'm not a visitor." Peter shrugs with what he hopes is nonchalance. "Sir."
"They starting out the press that young now?" The guard demands, and his tone makes it pretty clear how he feels about the press.
"Oh. No. No. No." Peter quickly tries to backpedal that. "I'm here to see Tony Stark, we're supposed to be working in his lab today, for the first time ever , and I'm supposed to go to those elevators-" Peter points beyond the guard's bulk to the gold encrusted doors beyond. "I'm his intern-"
"Tony Stark doesn't take interns," the man tells him tightly. His eyes narrow even more, now just tiny little slits.
"I- I'm his intern?" Peter offers again, kinda lamely. "Happy told me to come in this way-"
The man laughs. "You thought that would work? Spitting out Happy's name? Everyone knows who he is , champ. "
Peter gulps. "I have Happy's number, I can call him-"
He droops his shoulder, flinging the backpack around to fish his cellphone out of the front pocket, when his Spider-sense skyrockets.
He gasps, gaze jumping up, just in time to see the guard bulldoze into him, knocking him off his feet. He hits the ground with a pained oomph, pressed into the linoleum by the man landing on top of him.
"Don't move! " The man shouts in his face, and Peter winces, because wow that is loud. Somewhere between them, pinned, is his backpack. He feels the guard's fingers fumbling desperately for it and he throws his own hands up above his head to allow the man easier access.
The guard yanks the backpack from where it's squeezed between them, pressing his elbow into Peter's shoulder to keep him pinned to the floor. It kinda hurts, and he lets out a miserable, " Hey! "
The man is fumbling through his bag, flinging books and papers across the foyer in his haste.
Peter can see the receptionist watching them wide-eyed, a hand over her mouth in shock.
" Sorry, " he whisper-mouths. He's not entirely sure what's going on, but he doesn't like the thought of some innocent bystander frightened.
Shifting slightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure against his shoulder, he asks, "Whatcha looking for?"
"Shut up!" The guard snarls, doubling down with his elbow. The sharp point stabs him in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, and Peter lets out a breathless hiss.
It's at this point he's starting to think maybe he really isn't supposed to be here. Maybe Happy got something twisted up and this is all a big misunderstanding. It makes just about as much sense as the Tony Stark giving him an actual internship.
"I'll leave!" He gasps out, the words coming out nearly inaudible.
He's only a couple seconds away from using some of his spider enhanced strength to push the guy off. Not enough to be obvious, but enough to let him breath-
" STOP!"
The voice bellows out across the foyer, and Peter twists his head just enough to see Happy stomping his way towards them, his face turning a shade of red so dark it's almost purple.
Oh shit.
Happy is not happy.
" Hi- " Peter chokes out, feeling a little awkward here on the floor. He wiggles his fingers in an approximation of a wave.
The guard on top of him falters, leaning back just enough to let Peter pull in a ragged breath.
Happy's gaze rakes across the scene, taking in Peter's scattered schoolwork before coming to rest on Peter himself.
"Get off of him," he growls, voice low. " Now."
The man hesitates, sending a confused glance downwards, and Peter lifts his shoulders in a restrained shrug.
" NOW!" Happy repeats, reaching out a curled hand to yank the man away.
The guard finally compiles, landing in a befuddled heap on the foyer floor beside Peter.
"Sorry," Peter says, looking up at Happy. He winces a little at the raspiness of his voice.
Happy all but wrenches Peter to his feet, hands hovering across him. The world spins, a little, and Happy holds him up while he hastily tries to diagnose him.
"You okay, kid?" He asks, voice far gentler than Peter has ever heard before.
Peter nods, the world swimming again. "Yeah, I'm all good, Happy."
"You're lightheaded," Happy tells him, one hand fisted in the front of his shirt to keep him steady and the other continuing to flutter inches above his neck.
"I'm fine!" He insists quickly, his voice fading out to a huff at the end.
Happy turns the full voltage of his glare to the man on the floor. "What the hell were you doing?!"
"He- he was going into his bag for a weapon!" The man explains desperately, holding his hands up pleadingly in Happy's direction.
" I'm a weapon," Peter wheezes, laughing breathlessly. He's Spider-Man .
Okay. Maybe he's a little lightheaded.
Happy shoots him a look that says, Shut up kid.
"You tackled Tony Stark's personal intern, a high school kid , because you thought he had a weapon?" Happy hurls the statement at the man, his voice ice.
"Tony Stark doesn't take interns," the man mumbles, face growing white.
"Which, if you weren't an idiot," Happy all but growls, "Should have keyed you into how important this one was."
The guard's eyes slide to Peter, blowing wide. "I-I, I thought-"
"You're fired," Happy replies simply. "Get out."
Peter whirls around, (bad, bad idea, the world spins, and Happy keeps a hand on his shoulder to steady him) eyes wide, exclaiming, "You can't fire him!"
Happy looks at Peter. "Why not, kid?"
"He- he was just doing his job," Peter offers, gazing down at the pallid man. "Really, really well." Peter touches his neck gently.
"Let me get this straight," Happy says, slowly, "You want me to keep around a man whose first instinct is to strangle teenagers?"
Down below, the man begs. "Please! I'm sorry! I didn't realize."
"He only strangled me, " Peter argues. He can hardly count as a regular teenager, not since the spider-bite.
One of Happy's eyebrows arches to the sky. "If he was strangling other teenagers, would you want him employed?"
Well. "I guess not," Peter allows, casting a glance to the man on the floor. "But don't fire him because of me!"
"Please don't fire me!"
"You'll be lucky to only get fired," Happy snarls. "After Tony Starks hears about this."
The man's face pales even more. "Please-"
"Happy-"
"Quiet." Happy shakes his head to both of them. He points down at the quaking man. "Pick up Mr. Parker's papers. Now."
Scrambling, the man all but slides across the linoleum in his haste. Guilt flares up in Peter's belly. "Here, I'll help-"
Happy keeps a stern hand on Peter's shoulder, holding him in place. "No."
The papers flutter as the guard shoves them back into Peter's backpack, his Chem homework crinkling as the man tries to force it in.
"Don't wrinkle the kid's homework," Happy snaps, and the man slows his pace exponentially, depositing each page with exergatered slowness.
Peter bites his lip.
"Here," the man holds the bag out to Peter, his voice wavering.
"Thanks," Peter offers sincerely, and he can feel the disapproval radiating off of Happy. "Um, sorry about all of this. "
The woman behind the reception desk is still watching the scene, her eyes wide. Embarrassment travels up Peter's cheeks.
Not a great first impression to make on his very first working with Mister Stark in the lab.
"You." Happy sends a crooked finger in the guard's direction, "Go wait for me in the office. I'll deal with you in a moment."
Obediently, the man clambers to his feet. Shoving his hands into his pockets he turns and stalks away without another word.
Happy turns to Peter, his features softening. "You good, kid? Need the Medbay?"
Peter swiftly shakes his head. "No, no, no. I'm fine. Totally. Besides, I heal really fast, so there's no reason-"
Happy grumbles. Something akin to worry flashes across his face. "I'm sorry about that. New hire. A big mistake, apparently."
Peter shrugs. His neck still aches a little, but nothing that isn't manageable. "To be fair, he did take the job very seriously."
Happy blinks. "What the hell."
"It's true!"
Shaking his head, trying to clear the utter preposterousness of Peter from his mind, he finally mutters, "Come on, I guess. I'll escort you."
"That's okay. I can find my own way home."
Happy doubletakes. "You want to go home?"
Peter cocks his head, looking remarkably like a puppy after a squeaker toy sounds. "Am I supposed to go home?"
"Supposed to go home?" Happy asks incredulously. He's still got a hand resting protectively against Peter's shoulder, and Peter decides he doesn't mind much. "Why the hell would I bring you here just to take you home? You think I like driving you around for the fun of it?"
"I- I thought-"
"No. You don't have to go home, Peter." Happy shakes his head. "Don't listen to anything that guy said. I'll take you up to Tony's floor, unless you actually want to go home."
Peter doesn't even need to deliberate, cracking a wide smile. "Let's go to the lab."
Hand still clasped tightly onto Peter's shoulder, Happy maneuvers him to the elevator doors.
Peter waves sheepishly at the bewildered receptionist as they pass. " Sorry."
Happy groans. "Tony's gonna lose his shit over this one."
Peter frowns. "He only strangled me. "
Happy sends him a look Peter can't quite identify, ushering him into the elevator. "Exactly."