Flower Child (Peter Parker, MCU)

Prologue: A Good Week

"The Underdog" - Spoon

Peter cursed softly as his precariously balanced textbook slid off his knee. Quick as always to catch it, he placed it back on his lap and pored over the small words. For once, he was able to ignore the shoulder of the stranger roughly jostling him on the subway, as it usually was like someone slamming into his nervous system, igniting his whole body with sensation. At least, with his senses so heightened, it felt that way. But not even the disgruntled New Yorker next to him could ruin his bliss. And Peter might as well have been reading the back of a soup can for all it was worth, as his mind was completely elsewhere.

His wide grin sat on his face the entire morning commute, and on the walk to school, and the walk to his locker. To anyone else, it might've seemed strange that he bore such a large grin when he wore a large bruise over his right eye. And a cut on his temple to complement it. And maybe, had Peter Parker lived anywhere other than New York City, someone other than his aunt would be concerned with his appearance.

But everyone else always had better things to do.

Not that he cared. His head was swimming, his body floating on air as he thought about his last week. Arguably, Peter had had plenty of good weeks before. There was one week in the summer where he and Aunt May went to every niche museum they could find, and bought the dumbest souvenirs that went along with them. Then another week, where he and Ned challenged themselves to build a thousand-piece Lego set every day for seven days. It definitely made a dent in their savings, but it was totally worth it. Then there was the first week he learned how to swing through the skyscrapers around the city on the webbing he'd made himself. That feeling of freedom, the sheer joy knowing nothing could stop him, it was unbeatable.

Until last week, when he came home to his aunt sitting on a couch, serving Tony Stark her walnut date loaf. Tony was quick to usher Peter into his own bedroom, eagerly spitting the loaf into the trash can next to Peter's desk. There was a moment, while the billionaire flashed a video of him dressed up in a red onesie on one of his flashy gadgets, that Peter thought he was done for. He nearly broke the DVD player he'd held in his hands from gripping it so tightly. Surely there was nothing Iron Man could do about what he did in his spare time. Surely he wouldn't try and take away that little slice of freedom he'd carved for himself out of an otherwise extraordinary situation.

And he didn't. In fact, Tony Stark did the exact opposite. He asked Peter what drove him, what gave him the need to be something more than a teenage boy, albeit a brilliant one, but nonetheless ordinary on paper. Peter couldn't help but answer honestly, feeling relieved that he could finally tell someone about his secret. And not just someone. Tony freaking Stark. He explained to Tony that if he continued to be normal when he was far from it, bad things would start to happen. Preventable things. Things that would ultimately be his fault. Peter watched the minute expressions on Tony's face change, and something resolve behind his eyes. The next thing he knew, he was cutting Tony free of the webbing he'd used to attach him to his bedroom door, and the pair were off to Germany.

The rest, as they say, is history. Or, more like current events. As Peter approached his locker, his hearing filtered out the usual buzz of students, picking up snippets of their conversations.

"They're saying Captain America's a fugitive, now."

"What a shame, I heard he was supposed to make more school videos."

"Did you hear about that guy who grew to like fifty feet? I hear Hank Pym designed that suit."

"Yeah, right. And I created the Iron Man suit. That guy's a crackpot, he hasn't made anything worthwhile since he worked for Stark."