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When Cindy submitted her application for Stark Industries, it was on a whim. There’s only one opening for high school students per year, and every high schooler in New York wants it. Cindy’s GPA is good, great even, but in comparison to some of the other people who are applying, she knows her resume was lacking. Only one exception has ever been made to the one accepted applicant rule, and he sits behind her in Spanish class. She had almost no chance of getting in.
And yet here she is, being escorted to the registration desk and given her own company-issue Starkwatch.
“Alright Miss Moon, you’re all set! If you follow me we can get you introduced to everyone in R&D,” Sharon says, smiling warmly.
She’s one of the interns that presented to their team on The Field Trip a few weeks ago the one that flipped everyone’s view of Peter Parker on its head.
Cindy knows Peter, okay? They may not be close, but they’ve been classmates for years. He’s a great, cheerful guy, if a little nerdy and flaky. In freshman year, he’d started going through this phase of trying to maintain his status as a Professional Wallflower while also trying to seem cooler than he was, and it kept happening through most of sophomore year. Cindy had taken it in stride because it didn’t do any harm, even if the idea that he was interning for Tony Stark was ridiculous.
Then The Trip happened, and everyone was made painfully, embarrassingly aware that he’d been telling the truth the whole time. And not only is he working for the Tony Stark, but he’s somehow managed to bag the Johnny Storm. Michelle Cindy can’t make herself call her MJ, that seems reserved for people she actually talks to, like Peter and Ned had laughed at them on the bus ride back, when Peter had been allowed to stay behind.
“Of course he wasn’t lying. He’s Peter,” she’d said, as if that explained everything.
Which, Cindy supposes as she trails behind Sharon, it sort of does.
“Alright nerds!” Sharon calls as they enter what looks like the main lab. Everything is bright silver and the walls are padded with noise-reducing panels, and there’s a ladder leading to what looks like a hammock in the back corner. “Pretend you’re actually working, we gotta make a good impression on the newbie.”
“Too late,” one guy mutters, bent over a tablet. “She’s already met you.”
Sharon leans in to stage whisper to Cindy. “That’s Trent. He’s brilliant, but cranky as hell most of the time.”
“I’m glad it’s not just because I’m here,” Cindy whispers back conspirationally, and Sharon laughs even as Trent rolls his eyes and smiles.
“Nah, that’s just who he is. Anyway, you’re my trainee for the first few months,” Sharon says. She moves across the room, clearly expecting Cindy to follow. “You’ll be working with me on my pet project until you pitch your own or find one you like from what the higher-ups send us.”
Cindy blinks, a little surprised. “Not that I’m complaining, but what about the usual intern gig? Coffee, making copies, all that?”
“Oh, you’ll be doing coffee runs, don’t worry. Everyone does coffee runs, interns or not. But what’s the point in treating you like a secretary when you’re one of the smartest teenagers in New York?”
That’s a fair point, Cindy thinks, so she doesn't being it up again.
Adjusting to working here is easier than she thought it might be. It's not that everyone is super nice, because that's just unrealistic, but there's a comfortable mood in the lab most of the time. Interns seem to be left mostly to their own devices until one of the overseeing employees need something done, and there’s a lot of time for them to work at their own pace, more or less.
Sharon is great to work with. She’s witty and fun, but knows how to buckle down and get work done. She’s a great teacher too, walking Cindy through her face-obscuring technology.
If they know how to trick facial recognition software, she reasons, they can update the software to account for those issues by reverse engineering the trick. It’s fascinating work and Cindy finds herself staying late without even noticing more than a few times. She knows she’s not the only one who’s used the hammock once or twice, but none of them make a habit of it; it’s a bit too high off the ground to be safe.
Everything goes by so fast that before she knows it, Cindy’s been working at SI for two months. School’s out, so she’s spending most of her time in the lab. Whenever she’s not helping Sharon, she’s been brainstorming a new idea for a polymer that could improve medical thread. Knowing SI, it’ll probably end up having a thousand different uses eventually, but for now it’s just the one. Otherwise, knowing her, she’ll get too caught up in ideas and never get anything done completely.
When she mentions it to Sharon, the older woman just snickers quietly. “What are the odds?”
“Huh?” That's not the response she was expecting. Maybe she should think about revamping that water treatment idea.
“No no no, don't get me wrong!” Sharon rushes when she realizes what she's doing. “It's a really great idea and I know you can make it happen. It's just What is it with you Midtown students and polymers?”
It's the first time since Cindy’s been here that someone has even vaguely mentioned Peter, so it takes her a little off guard. “Peter works on polymers?”
Bryce snorts from his desk a few feet away. “All the time. One of them almost killed us once.”
“It just blew out the fuse box, don't be dramatic.” Sharon throws a balled up post-it at his head with startling accuracy, and Bryce sticks out his tongue at her.
“With a polymer?” That's impressive. SI’s wiring is pretty well insulated, and Cindy’s never even seen the fuse box. She wonders how exactly it was fixed.
“It was highly conductive,” Sharon says. “Peter wanted to test its maximum output and tensile strength and overloaded the whole system in the process.”
“Holy crap.”
Sharon just shrugs. “It happens.”
That’s not exactly what Cindy would classify as an it happens scenario, but she’s probably alone in that. Of all the issues that arise working in th labs, budget isn’t one of them. Something tells her that working personally with Tony Stark makes it even less of one. Fixing one lab’s electricity isn’t even a drop in the bucket of resources at Peter Parker’s disposal.
Still, knowing Peter, it probably embarrassed him and he probably apologized fifty times. “He didn’t offer to make you guys cookies or anything, did he? He’s a terrible baker.”
Rather than laughing though, Sharon looks at her in surprise. “Is that what he's like at school?”
“Well yeah.” Now Cindy is the one who's surprised. That’s how he’s always been, so why exactly is it so surprising? Unless maybe the SI interns thought he was just like that with them and was different at school.
Bryce hums and leans back in his chair thoughtfully. “Doesn’t sound like our Peter at all.”
Neither of them seem interested in expanding on that, and Cindy’s learned over time that Bryce and Sharon, on the rare occasions that they agree on something, are a force to be reckoned with. She’s not going to get anything out of them, so she drops it.
There’s no way she’s gonna go very long without seeing what they mean anyway, since according to the interns, Peter is due for a lab visit any day now.
So she goes back to work debugging Sharon’s facial alteration software and brainstorms ideas for her polymer in her free time. She doesn’t have enough brainpower these days to waste wondering about Peter Parker; even when she’s not working on her project for the Stark Internship, she has her own problems to deal with.
It takes another week for someone to mention Peter Parker, and it’s in the strangest possible context.
When Cindy gets back from lunch, everybody who isn’t rushing to put away spare project materials is cleaning up the food that isn’t technically allowed in the lab.
“Oh, Cindy! Glad you’re back, would you mind putting on some hot water? Thanks,” Terrence says without waiting for an answer. His desk is noticeably cleaner, though it’s not totally free of clutter.
Cindy blinks. “Um. Yeah, sure.”
She decides against asking why even the most level headed interns are running around like maniacs, since there’s almost definitely a good reason that she’ll find out eventually.
And she’s right.
Exactly eight minutes later, the lab door opens and in walks Peter Parker or at least, someone that looks startlingly like him but bears next to no resemblance to the boy she knows.
He’s not dressed any different than she would expect him to dress at home, which is surprising in itself; Cindy was under the impression that interns have to dress like office workers under their lab coats, in case of impromptu tours or presentations. But here’s Peter Parker, in a ratty old Star Trek shirt that’s definitely three sizes too big (and isn't he a Star Wars fan? That's odd) and a pair of utterly ridiculous sweatpants with Hello Kitty print on them, and no one seems to be second guessing that.
And even beyond that, past the Annoyingly Attractive Glasses he’d worn during his presentation on The Field Trip, there are dark circles that look almost like bruises under his eyes. He bites his lip as he looks down at his Starkwatch and seems to adjust something before looking up at the room.
“You guys gonna need the testing room anytime soon?” he asks. That’s another brand new thing: the tone in his voice is almost completely dull, like he hasn’t slept in days. Nothing at all like his trademark Peter Parker Cheer.
“I’m in Room B, but Room A is open,” Cameron offers, and there’s something in her voice that Cindy can’t quite place.
“Cool, thanks.” Peter makes a beeline for Room A without another word, and the air in the room seems to grow a little lighter. It’s almost as if the interns are slightly afraid of him, which is kind of laughable.
A supergenius he may be, but something to be afraid of? Not Peter. Not in a million years.
Then a thunderous boom sounds from the testing room and the glass Tony Stark’s patented bulletproof, fireproof, soundproof, explosion proof glass cracks, and Cindy is forced to reassess that thought.
“FRIDAY?” Trent asks, sounding cautious.
“Mr. Parker is in acceptable physical condition. The prototype Widow’s Bite didn’t injure him,” FRIDAY says immediately, seeming to know exactly what Trent is asking. “Boss has asked me to notify you all that any damages to the testing room during Mr. Parker’s time here today will not come out of your department budget but rather the Avengers’.”
A collective sigh of relief goes through the room.
A prototype… for Black Widow… Cindy’s eyes feel like they may fall out of her head, they’re so wide. That’s Peter. Peter Parker, infamous flake, professional wallflower, geek extraordinaire, makes things makes weapons for Natasha Romanoff.
Being an intern at Stark Industries? Okay. He's super smart, so she'd bought that one from the get go. Being Tony Stark’s personal intern? A little far fetched but she’ll buy it since she’s seen the proof. But a weapons designer? That just doesn’t seem possible.
And yet, there he is. BOOM goes the room again as he punches the wall with Black Widow’s gauntlets, the Widow’s Bites. Electricity makes thick arcs through the air and leaves burn marks on the concrete floor. Another crack splits the glass further.
Nobody in the main lab has moved, as if Peter being in a testing room has halted all activity. For her part, Cindy is wondering the exact voltage of those gauntlets and how they’d affect a person. Is it straight electricity? Are they like tasers, designed to stun? Or are they like most of the Avengers’ weapons, designed to kill?
Five minutes ago, the concept of Peter making something so dangerous would have been laughable. He's such a sweet guy, and he's never been great with violence to her knowledge. But seeing this… while she’s still sure he’d never even dream of using it on a person, the fact that he’s able to actually refine an assassin’s weapon makes Cindy more uncomfortably aware of Peter Parker than she’s ever been.
He’s only in the testing room for about fifteen minutes, talking to himself the whole time. He’s probably taking notes with his Starkwatch, but it’s still surreal to see scrawny little Peter punching a wall with a weapon so powerful.
When he comes out, he looks satisfied, if somewhat apologetic. “Sorry about the room guys. Mr. Stark said he’d have a team come in tonight and it should be fixed by the end of the week.”
“Fine by us,” Sharon says. Then she presses a mug of tea into his hand. “Now drink this and go take a nap, please.”
Peter narrows his eyes at her, but takes the mug. “You were put up to this. You know I don’t drink tea to sleep. It doesn’t do anything for me.”
“We’re being paid to do this. Pretty sure there’s a Peter Watch clause in every SI contract.” Sharon rolls her eyes. “Plus, Mr. Stark asked us to when he told us you were coming. Said something about you being in your lab for three days.”
“Mr. Stark is a hypocrite,” Peter says without missing a beat. “He’s even worse than me.”
“He’s also a grown man,” Bryce chimes in from his desk. “And a superhero. I know, it's a conspiracy that we prioritize a kid over our multibillionaire boss.”
At that, Peter rolls his eyes so hard Cindy thinks he might sprain something, then downs the tea in one long drink. It’s silent for a moment.
“Kiddo, we have got to have a conversation about your relationship with boiling hot beverages,” Sharon says finally. “It could kill you one day.”
Peter looks her directly in the eyes. “I’ve had six hours of sleep in the last three days. I don’t fear death, Sharon. Death fears me.”
Six hours in three days is actually really worrying, even for someone as energetic as Peter. Though, when she thinks about it, between working on Sharon’s project and her own, she doesn’t get much sleep herself. It’s still surreal to see Peter like this, though.
“You really are a totally different person here,” she marvels out loud.
Peter blinks and looks at her, seeming to notice that she’s there for the first time since walking in. She takes that as a testament to how exhausted he is. But when he does notice, his eyes widen. “Oh shoot. Hey Cindy! I didn’t know you were here.”
“Have been for a few months.” She laughs. “You look dead on your feet, Peter.”
He shrugs, seeming indifferent. “I’ve been worse.”
Somehow, Cindy doesn’t doubt that. But she doesn’t have the time to say anything before Peter puts his mug down in the sink. “If I take a nap, will you guys let me see your progress on your projects? I haven’t been down in a while so I’m curious.”
“Naturally.” Trent doesn’t sound amused. “So go to sleep before we get fired please.”
“You won’t get fired, I’ll get grounded. Big difference, dude.” Peter yawns, already moving toward the hammock. He scales the ladder and plops down into the hammock carelessly, as if the fact that it’s ten feet up and definitely a safety hazard doesn’t bother him at all. “Someone please wake me up in an hour?”
“Three,” Sharon says immediately.
“Two and that’s my final offer.”
“Two it is,” she says, looking like that was exactly what she wanted in the first place. Cindy has to wonder how tired he is, letting an obvious tactic like that trip him up.
It’s quiet for a bit before people get back to work. A few people come in and out of the lab for collaborative projects. It’s quieter than usual, but not dead silent, which Cindy is grateful for. It almost seems like Peter being here turns the lab on its head, which. She can see why, if all of his experiments are this destructive, but it’s still surreal as hell to see.
Cindy’s still going through Sharon’s code and looking for bugs. It’s taking days, since they’re both going through it separately. The stark black lettering against the white screen gives her headaches if she stares at it for too long, so breaks are a thing and it ends up taking even longer.
She finally asks the question during one of those breaks, as she and Sharon are making themselves some coffee. “So what’s the deal? Why is everyone all bent out of shape over Peter?”
“Hm…” Sharon looks into her coffee, seeming thoughtful. “Well, for all intents and purposes, he’s our boss, because he’s so close to Tony Stark and has some of the highest clearance in the world. But he’s also like our disaster little brother who has no concept of taking care of himself, so we always put anything that might catch his attention away so he’ll actually take a break.”
“Huh.” That doesn’t quite sound like the Peter that Cindy knows. The Peter she knows is as likely as not to be skipping class or completely ignoring assignments during class, in favor of something else
Oh.
Apparently Peter is a much bigger workaholic than anyone thought.
Sharon's voice lowers even further. "And I was only sort of joking about the contract. Mr. Stark is really protective of him."
"What? Why?" That's not something she would expect from Tony Stark.
"No idea. There's a rumor that when we got..." She pauses, choosing her words carefully, and Cindy has an idea why she would. "When half the universe got put out of commission last year, Mr. Stark was with Peter when..."
Oh. That's... awful, actually. Cindy had been locked in her room when her dad was dusted, and she still has nightmares about finding the ash that he'd been. She can't imagine having to actually see it. It makes sense that Mr. Stark would keep an eye on Peter whenever possible.
"I'm sorry," she says, for lack of anything else to say. It's not the right thing to say, doesn't even make sense, but what exactly can a person say to a bombshell like that?
The door to the lab closes suddenly, the overhead lights going red.
The room goes quiet almost immediately. Sharon pulls Cindy slightly closer to her and keeps a firm grip on her arm. Through the viewing window, several men in suits appear to be yelling at each other. Cindy’s breath hitches when she sees that they’re all armed.
"Follow my lead, and stay quiet," Sharon murmurs.
Very, very slowly, she and Cindy sink to the floor, where all the others are. Being lower to the ground means they’re less likely to be noticed, Cindy realizes in a haze.
Across the room, the hammock shifts. “Really? In the middle of my nap? Fine.”
Peter sits up. Luckily, the stupid hammock is too high up to be seen from the viewing window, so the movement doesn’t draw any attention. “Karen, what are they saying? What do they want?”
Karen’s voice rings quietly through the room, probably coming through Peter’s Starkwatch. “It appears that they’re after you, Peter. They’re planning to hold you for ransom. Shall I notify the emergency contact list?”
“Nobody who’s statistically likely to destroy the building,” Peter says immediately, moving down the ladder. “Mr. Stark would be pissed if anything got broken.”
“I’ve sent an alert to Mr. Barton and Mr. Storm. ETA six minutes.”
When he gets to the floor, he turns to face the room with a sheepish grin. “Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to put anyone in danger. This should be taken care of in a few minutes. Clint will get them cleared out.”
Unfortunately, he catches the eye of one of the men. Cindy flinches when they start banging on the windows, yelling for Peter to get out. But it’s the same glass as the testing rooms, so there’s no way they’ll make it through.
So she’s shocked when Peter walks over to the barred door, wringing his hands. “Karen, override the door so I can get out, then close it behind me.”
Nearly everyone in the room protests at that, Cindy included. What is he thinking, trying to give himself up when Hawkeye and Human Torch are probably already on their way?
“I suggest that you stay put, Peter.” Karen’s voice is cool and nonjudgmental, unlike everyone else’s.
“I don’t want them shooting at the glass.” Peter ignores the rest of them. “Those aren’t normal guns. If they were they wouldn’t have gotten past FRIDAY. So if I don’t come out and they shoot, everyone else will get hurt. The door, Karen. Override code 208.”
The door slides up and Peter slips out before it’s even all the way open. As soon as he does, it closes again.
Cindy watches in horror as one of them grabs Peter’s arms and move to restrain him. Peter looks way too calm for the situation he’s in, and she wonders if he’s in shock.
Then he twists so that the other man’s wrist is definitely broken and he drops the gun, and Cindy has to rethink that idea. Actually, she realizes as she watches him take down the attackers, she may have to rethink her vision of Peter Parker entirely.
More of the people show up, but Peter doesn’t seem too surprised. This definitely isn’t the first time he’s been through this sort of thing. Despite the asthma Cindy knows he has, has had since middle school, he’s keeping up with the other men. Must be adrenaline, she thinks.
(Later, when she’s recovered from her own shock and adrenaline, she’ll remember that adrenaline is more likely to hinder than to help in a fight, and it will only add to the growing mystery that is Peter.)
Hawkeye comes rushing down the hall only a little bit later, Johnny Storm in tow. Hawkeye wraps up the men while Johnny gets Peter away from the fighting, grabbing Peter’s face carefully and looking over him for injuries. Once he deems him relatively fine, and Hawkeye has all of the men restrained, Johnny’s face twists into a strange worry-anger that Cindy can’t remember ever seeing during any of his public appearances.
The door to the lab slides open again and Hawkeye walks in. “Everyone okay in here?”
People all over the room murmur confirmations and thanks.
Johnny Storm’s voice carries inside the lab. “ can’t just go picking a fight like that at work when you definitely haven’t slept and already have someone on their way to help you, you idiot!”
“I made the right call,” Peter says wearily, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “Clint, is everyone ok?”
“Yeah Pete, you did good. Nat should be happy you’re putting her lessons to use. Just let Matchstick burn himself out and go home.” Hawkeye looks back at the room, ignoring the indignant squawk Storm lets out. “That goes for the rest of you too. I cleared it with Tony on the way here, but you all get a week off to recover a bit while he beefs up security again.”
Sharon looks a little shaken, but she smiles at Cindy. “You alright kid? Any lasting psychological damage?”
Cindy blinks, feeling like the ground has crumbled beneath her feet. “Plenty.”
“Yeah, I figured. You want a ride home?”
Vacations have never exactly been Cindy’s strong suit. Having too much free time always made her antsy. Now that she’s properly traumatized, it makes her nervous too. The first day of her company-mandated week off, she only barely manages not to work on her polymer formula. She also barely manages to sleep, her mind occupied with too many images of what could have been, if Peter had made even one wrong move before the others got there.
The imagined sound of shattered glass haunts her so often that she starts using plastic cups. That way, if she drops it, the sound won’t send her breathing off the charts.
It’s ridiculous, she thinks on the third night. Peter was the one in all the danger; the would-be kidnappers hadn’t cared about the other interns at all. So why the hell can’t she get the image of those men out of her mind’s eye?
Her phone buzzes almost violently on her desk, making her jump about a foot in the air before she snatches it off the wood to quiet it before her parents wake up.
Peter Parker: Hey Cindy! I know it’s late but I was talking to Bryce earlier and he mentioned that you had an idea for a polymer that could strengthen medical thread. Whenever you’re up to coming back to work, would you be cool showing me what you’ve got? It sounds really interesting!
The last time she’d gotten a text from Peter outside of the decathlon group chat was six months ago, when he’d needed Spanish notes. But proper grammar isn’t his style, so he must be nervous about something.
Me: yeah sure. u free today? im driving myself crazy
The response comes within a minute, and he seems a little less nervous.
Peter Parker: yeah i’m free! ur main lab is still being worked on so we can use mine, i’ll just put away all the big projects ur not allowed to see
also it is 4 IN THE MORNING WYD AWAKE
Me: ur awake too
Peter Parker: im an insomniac whats ur excuse
Cindy snorts quietly. Lately she hasn't been sleeping much even on her best days.
Me: trauma
Peter: w e l l i m e a n
can’t fault u there, insomnia buddy. sorry bout that whole thing btw it kind of happens a lot
i’ll talk to u later, my phone woke up johnny and he’s msfhs
Cindy can’t help the quiet huff of laughter at how easy it is to imagine the Johnny Storm irritatedly wrestling Peter’s phone out of his hand at 4am.
Maybe, she muses as she plugs her phone in for the night and crawls in bed, she doesn’t have to rethink her entire vision of Peter Parker. Some things just can’t be faked.