Chapter Text
Despite knowing that he had nothing to worry about, Peter’s heart still raced at the thought of going on a field trip to Stark Industries. He wasn’t exactly anxious, per se, it was more that he didn’t want to go there on one of the days he usually wouldn’t go to the tower. He knew that the others were busy with things that couldn’t be delayed, so he didn’t think about how his school trip could be ruined. He knew a lot of the workers there, though, and they knew his schedule… sort of. They knew when he wasn’t there, which was always on the first three days of the week. So they were most likely going to comment on his appearance at the tower, despite not technically needing to be there.
For the past week or so, Stark Industries had been getting a lot of tours. It was always during the last month of school that they had opened them. So from the 2nd to the 16th, the tower was mostly full of classes. They always had a rest day between the tours, so it was an on-and-off pattern. Since he knew that none of these visitors were from his school, he was able to work comfortably, not having to think about how his classmates were there at his workplace.
This Tuesday, though, was his turn. He now had to view the tower from their point of view. The bus ride there felt overwhelming. Not even the teachers could calm down the students, so everyone was practically yelling. Someone at the back was playing music, too, as if Peter couldn’t hear anything else. He already had his headphones in playing some random music Steve had recommended him. Peter wasn’t really one to listen to jazz, but Billie Holiday was starting to grow on him with the ruckus in the background.
As the coach neared the tower, the noise managed to increase even more, so much so that Peter felt as though his eardrums had burst. Stopping in front of the tower, the teacher stood up before any of the students managed to remove their seat belts.
“Before we leave,” the teacher began, making everyone groan, “I’d just like to remind you all of the rules we’ve set before entering the building: don’t touch anything without permission; don’t run off without permission; only ask questions when allowed. Basically you need permission for everything, Stark Industries is very strict with its rules, so it’s best we abide by them.”
After getting everybody to murmur out a half-arsed ‘yes, sir’, Mr. Harrington got everyone out of the coach and into the building. The entrance itself managed to captivate the students. Bringing them from their stupor was an worker Peter was familiar with, but didn’t know the name of. She was tall, had blonde hair and a wide smile that was welcoming to anyone. She held a shallow tray, full of lanyards and a clipboard at the bottom, most likely to tell her where in the tower they were going.
“Hello everyone,” the lady got the class’ attention, “My name is Gwen, I’ll be running the tour with you all today! Before we begin, I’ll have to give you all these lanyards.” She tilted the tray slightly to show off the lanyards in the box. “The cards on these allow you access to the rest of the building, they also have the information needed in case of an emergency, which was the reason we got you to fill out those big stacks of paperwork before coming here!”
And so, one by one, Gwen called out people’s names, they went up there, took the lanyard and rejoined the group. By the end, the tray was empty and Peter had no lanyard. Of course, Flash, who had been surprisingly quiet that whole time, spoke up about it.
“Hey, Gwen,” Flash’s voice was almost grating to Peter, who was taking his own clip-on card from his pocket to place on the front pocket of his shirt, “You didn’t give him a lanyard,”
Flash then looked back at Peter and his card. Gwen furrowed her brows and looked in the tray, which was clearly empty. Taking out the clipboard and walking up to Peter, she asked for his name, to which he responded with it fully.
“Ah, yes, on here it says you already have your own!” Gwen looked at his clip-on lanyard, “Make sure to keep it visible for Happy,”
Peter gave her a small chuckle and nodded, “Will do, Gwen,”
Flash’s bewildered face spoke a thousand words in itself, which Peter noticed and immediately dropped the smile, replacing it was his usual expression. As Flash looked ready to puff out his chest and head over to Peter, Gwen caught their collective attention once again.
“As you go through here, you will hear a voice,” Gwen explained, “This is F.R.I.D.A.Y., an AI designed by Mr. Stark to watch over and help with running the building. She will state your name, so don’t be surprised to hear it,”
After her explanation, Gwen walked through the scanner to show the students how F.R.I.D.A.Y. worked.
“Welcome back, Gwen Stacy. Enjoy the tour trip, the following visitors will be linked to your name,”
The teens marvelled at the voice and, eventually, all went through the scanner, gaining their own little welcomes into the building. Peter had gone last, explaining that it was so the visitors wouldn’t be linked to his card.
“Welcome back, Peter Parker. Although the Boss has been notified of your arrival, I have stated that you are not to head to the laboratory due to a school trip.”
Peter sagged his shoulders, “Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”
He joined up with the rest of his class, who were waiting near the elevators.
“Now that everyone’s here, we can head up.” Gwen looked over her clipboard. “It says here we’re going to be heading up in an orderly manner, which means the first places on our list are the Intern Labs, on floor 7,”
“Going up to Floor 7.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. stated, the elevator began to move.
Peter sensed someone walking up to him, but didn’t move. M.J. began to speak, “Upset your friend isn’t here?”
He tilted his head from side to side, “A bit, Ned would’ve made this a lot more fun,”
Ned was off sick. Stomach bug, throwing up everywhere, apparently. Peter did not want to see that.
“Good thing I’m here to make your life amazing.” M.J. responded, making him chuckle under his breath.
“I guess so…”
Once they had gotten to the floor, F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rung out in the elevator, “Before you enter, please remember that the interns are working. Also remember that they are young IT students and get frightened by the simplest of social gestures.”
Laughter spread among the class, but quietened down quickly as to enter as soon as possible. The tour group entered the room. It wasn’t too quiet in there, but it was a comforting, ‘white noise’ hum that made sure the class wasn’t disruptive in any way. A few interns turned their heads to see what was going on, but after noticing that it was another tour group, they got back to their work.
Gwen went explaining to the students that they mostly go testing the software aspects of new models of Stark technology, telling them that these people make sure there are no bugs or kinks in their programming. Slowly —but not sneakily, to Peter—, Flash made his was over to the Parker and nudged his arm slightly. Peter paid him no mind, but that was just seen as an invitation to continue.
“So, Penis,” Flash began, Peter almost wanted to roll his eyes right there, “Why aren’t they saying anything to you?”
Peter furrowed his brows in disbelief and, without turning to face Flash, muttered, “They’re working, I’m not going to bother them.”
He wanted to add on that he doesn’t really stay in the lower sections of the tower, anyway, but Flash was already scoffing and moving away. When Gwen had finally finished her brief explanation of some of the more calm laboratories of the tower, she ushered the group into the elevator and told them what the second place would be.
“Next, you’re going to be workshop… -ing,” Gwen paused, as if to figure out if that was a verb or not, “there, you will have someone explain what’s going on, I’m not too sure, myself, what you’ll be doing there, I’ve still not understood, and I’ve done two of these now!”
Gwen and the class stepped out of the elevator at floor 12, which Peter noticed was right underneath the cafeteria. Almost on cue, his stomach began to rumble. M.J., who had walked up to him close enough to hear his stomach, laughed.
“Really can’t wait, huh?” M.J. teased. “By the way, you’re with me. They don’t have a choice.”
Peter blinked dumbfounded, he was sure the worker, Nate —he actually knew his name—, hadn’t even began talking yet. “I’m hungry.” He decided to state instead.
In the end, Nate introduced himself and told the students what they were going to be doing. Around the room were different tools and materials, the teens had to choose items and create something unique with them. Peter and M.J. managed to create a little motion-sensor robot that lit its eyes up when close enough to someone. The fun thing about these types of workshops, though, was the fact that you didn’t have to show off to anyone your little creations. Peter grew a liking to the little guy and had to fight the urge to take a picture of it for later. M.J. called him a nerd over that and they went to the cafeteria.
Lunch time was fairly calm. Peter and M.J. sat at one of the tables near the food, talking about random things. Of course, that was until Peter looked behind M.J. to find something familiar. It was a robot Peter had created a while back. It held trays for food and was meant to be filled by someone at the cafeteria. It was made as a way to spite Tony, at first. Peter kept noticing how the man just refused to go back to get himself sustenance, so brought it upon himself to create a bot that both reminded him and brought him food. He must’ve sent it down without a thought though, since it was just sat there, bright, little eyes blinking on a screen that was probably as warm from use as the just-made food sitting on the other side of the counter.
Peter brought it upon himself to get that food to Tony, so he briefly excused himself from the table to go over to the bot. Pressing the button on its cheek, the screen filled with a phrase that only said, ‘GIVE ME THE GOOD SHIT’. Peter was baffled at how Tony could be so academically smart but so utterly dumb. He then turned to the person running the counter at that moment and asked for something Tony would usually order.
The guy, who looked to be in his mid-20’s, gave an exasperated sigh and filled a plate with food. It was roast today, so he filled the plate with mashed potatoes, green beans, a meat that looked to be either chicken or turkey and some gravy over the top. He slid the plate onto the counter and, next to it, placed a can of iced tea. Peter thanked him awkwardly and took the food and drink, putting it on the bot’s tray and giving it a little pat on the head for good luck.
Honestly, at that moment, Peter felt like he needed that too. He then returned to the table, where M.J. was sat facing him, her interest obviously piqued.
“Mr. Stark tends to forget about his food, so I made him a robot that reminds him,” Peter told her, “but the only messages he puts on there are stupid things like, ‘the good shit’ or ‘food’, even though I added the note feature so he could choose which food he wanted,”
M.J. hummed while leaning forward on the table, having already eaten her food.