A familiar face twists into a sneer.
Buzzed hair. Broad shoulders. Hanson.
Jacob Hanson. One of the lab guys from my first visit with Dr. Banner. The memory hits like a bad aftertaste.
"Who are you?" he demands. "You need clearance to be in here. Where's your badge?"
He steps forward. Heavy boots. Slow. Deliberate. Each step echoes against the sterile tile, and my chest tightens with it.
Not again.
I straighten my spine, even as my hands shake. "I—I left it upstairs. I'm Peter. Mr Stark's intern. He asked me to grab some tools for our work."
For a split second, I almost believe it will work.
Then Hanson laughs.
It's loud. Sharp. Mean.
The kind of laugh that doesn't just mock—it erases. Like I'm something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
"Mr Stark doesn't have an intern," he says. "And even if he did, it wouldn't be some scrawny high school kid."
He turns to the other tech. "Roger. Call security."
Cold dread floods my veins.
"No—wait—" I start, but Hanson's already closing the distance.
His hand slams into my chest, shoving me back into the glass wall. The impact knocks the breath out of me, and the lab lights blur overhead. His fist bunches my shirt, fabric biting into my collarbone.
"You think you can walk in here like you matter?" he snarls, breath hot against my face. "Like you're special? You're nothing, kid. Not worth anyone's time."
The doors burst open.
Security.
Hands grab my arms before I can react. Strong. Unyielding. They haul me backward, and instinct tells me to fight—but I don't. I go limp instead, heart pounding, head screaming.
This isn't Spider-Man territory. This is Peter Parker being dragged through a building full of people who already think he doesn't belong.
They shove me toward the front desk.
Emma.
I catch her eye, panic breaking through my composure. My mouth opens—help, please, anything—
Her expression shifts instantly. Shock. Recognition. Fury.
"Stop!" she shouts. "What do you think you're doing?"
The guard barely slows. "Level Eight request. Kid has no badge. No clearance."
He pushes me forward, hard.
I hit the curb outside, skin scraping painfully against concrete. My palms burn. My knees sting. The air feels too loud.
Behind me, Emma explodes.
"Are you stupid?" she yells. "He has Level Ten clearance! He practically lives here!"
"And who are you?" the guard snaps. "You're just a desk lady."
The sound that follows is unmistakable.
Skin on skin.
A sharp, ringing slap.
Everything freezes.
Emma rips the badge straight off his chest, fingers shaking as she reads the name. The guard staggers back, stunned, then lunges for it—
"Give me the badge, Emma."
The voice is calm.
Dangerously calm.
Tony Stark.
The guard stiffens. "This doesn't concern you—"
"I pay your wages," Tony cuts in. "It concerns me."
Silence crashes down like a guillotine.
"What exactly do you think you're doing," Tony continues, voice rising just enough to slice, "dragging my intern out of my building?"
The guard goes pale.
"I—I didn't know—"
"Clearly." Tony doesn't even look at him anymore. "Pack your things. You're done here."
The guard swallows hard. "L-Level Eight Hanson sent me."
Tony's eyebrow lifts. "Of course he did."
The guard bolts.
Tony turns to Emma first. "You okay?"
She nods, still furious. "Every time."
Then he's kneeling in front of me, offering a hand.
"You alright, kid?" His voice is different now. Careful. Controlled. "Where's your badge?"
"I left it in your workshop," I mumble, staring at my scraped hands. Shame coils tight in my chest. This shouldn't have happened. I should have known better.
Tony sighs. "We'll deal with Level Eight."
He helps me up, steadying me longer than necessary. "Go clean up. Lunch in the kitchen. We'll talk."
I nod and bolt for the elevator before my face gives me away.
Inside, I tell FRIDAY to take me to my room.
The doors open to the hallway, and people smile at me—Nat, Clint, even Steve—but I can't handle it. I brush past them, barely registering the way their expressions fall.
I reach my room.
Lock the door.
Disable access.
Only then do I slide down against it, heart racing, hands shaking, the echo of Hanson's laugh still ringing in my ears.
I thought being here meant I was safe.
I was wrong.
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Bruised But Not Broken - Irondad/spiderson
FanfictionPeter Parker is tired. Tired of scraping by, of pretending he's fine, of enduring a school bully while carrying struggles no one knows about. Living in a cramped apartment with his aunt, Peter learns how to disappear - how to survive quietly. A scho...
