Chapter Text
The sun rose over Manhattan. Soft light, golden and hazy, spilled through the floor to ceiling windows of the 92nd floor of Stark Tower. Outside, the sky threatened rain — warm September rain, too early and too stubborn for the season — and the city far below buzzed, low and constant.
Penny Stark was already dressed and halfway through packing her bag when her dad stumbled into the kitchen.
“Why,” Tony Stark asked, rubbing one eye and blindly reaching for the coffee pot, “do field trips start before the legal definition of morning?”
Penny didn’t look up from her toast. “Because some of us still have to learn things. Can’t coast through life on our brains and cheekbones.”
“Excuse you, these cheekbones are the product of genetic perfection and $200 moisturizer.” He poured coffee into a mug that read World’s Okayest Parent and leaned against the counter. “You’re very mouthy for someone who’s asking me to sign a permission slip for a dangerous chemical lab tour.”
“Oscorp is not dangerous,” she said, straightening the collar of her maroon school blazer. “It’s science. Plus, you know, security. And chaperones. And Ned.”
“Ned’s a chaperone now?”
“No, but he’s very protective. Especially when there are snacks involved.”
Tony sipped his coffee and watched her move around the kitchen like a human hurricane — bag slung over one shoulder, toast in her mouth, scrawling notes on a tablet with the other hand.
“Okay, Inspector Gadget,” he said, “let’s see the slip.”
Penny slid the paper across the island.
He looked at it for half a second and signed with a flourish. “Try not to come home with glowing hands or extra limbs.”
“Don’t jinx it,” she said, grabbing the form and shoving it into her bag. “I’ve already got that mole on my shoulder that keeps changing shape.”
Tony nearly dropped his mug. “What?!”
“Kidding.” She smiled, devilish. “Mostly.”
He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“I get it from my dad,” she said sweetly, biting into her toast.
He stepped over and brushed a crumb off her cheek. “Don’t forget your inhaler.”
Penny made a face. “Dad, I haven’t needed it in like three weeks.”
“Three weeks is not a lifetime. It’s a Netflix binge.” He grabbed it from the drawer and tossed it into her backpack. “Humor me.”
“Fine.”
Outside, the clouds broke just enough for the sun to throw light across the breakfast nook. On the ledge a particularly brave pigeon with only one foot was aggressively pecking at the windowsill, clearly in a fight with its own reflection. Somewhere far below, someone was laying on a car horn like it was a life choice.
Tony glanced at the time. “Where’s the driver?”
“Happy said she’s still doing a loop around Midtown — construction on 5th.”
Tony grumbled. “Take the express elevator. And text me when you reach enemy territory. If anything explodes, you’re allowed to panic-call me.”
“Good to know.”
Penny slung her backpack over both shoulders and stopped at the doorway.
She hesitated, just for a second, then turned.
“I know you’re busy with the StarkSat launch this week.”
Tony raised an eyebrow, sipping his coffee carefully.
“But if you wanted to do dinner tonight…” She shrugged like she didn’t care. “Maybe Happy’s favorite diner? Cheeseburgers?”
Tony’s heart did a full somersault. “Kid, if you’d asked me to cancel a shareholder meeting and fly to Osaka for dumplings I’d already be halfway there.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she said. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that time you said no to cupcakes and then flew to Monaco.”
“That was ten years ago.”
“I was four. It left a mark.”
He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Dinner. Six o’clock. You and me and a very questionable milkshake.”
Penny smiled. “You’re the best.”
Tony watched her walk into the elevator and vanish behind polished steel doors. The moment she was gone, he grabbed his phone.
“FRI, patch me through to Happy.”
“Right away, boss.”
Tony took another sip of coffee and looked toward the windows, where the pigeon had now gained the upper wing and was headbutting the glass like it owed him money.
“Tell him to have the driver take the long route. Oscorp’s security is crap and I don’t trust Norman’s interns not to have acid spit or eye lasers.”
“Understood.”
Tony ran a hand through his hair. He told himself she’d be fine.
He told himself she was always fine.
It wasn’t until she was gone that the silence of the apartment felt just a little too big. A little too still. He gave himself a full body shake and stretched his neck, taking his coffee back toward the bedroom.
“Fri, read my schedule for the day and ask Pepper where that red tie I like is.”
The Oscorp building was glass and chrome and tried too hard to look cool.
Penny leaned on the railing outside the tour hall, phone in hand, taking video of Ned doing his best tour guide impression.
“And to our left,” Ned said, affecting a deep British accent, “you’ll see corporate corruption in its natural habitat.”
“Shh, Ned!” Penny chided, laughing behind her phone.
They followed a bored looking intern through the halls of Oscorp, first visiting an R&D lab that Penny and Ned agreed was almost sad compared to the one at SI. Then came a short video presentation on Oscorp’s innovations and contributions to the field of science for the last 20 years. They were all given a pair or Oscorp branded sunglasses and a pen, which Penny was already planning to wear to the diner with her dad that evening, just to see the dramatics he would pull.
She laughed to herself, picturing his face, and followed along behind they were led through a series of research labs. The intern leading the tour droned on about Oscorp’s mission statement and commitment to scientific advancement, Penny tuned out until they entered a room that was filled with bio-containment chambers and experimental ecosystems.
A clear panel on the wall displayed different spider strains, each with color-coded DNA overlays, drawing Penny’s curiosity. She tilted her head at the display - a vast array of spiders of different sizes and colors, and glow levels - muttering to herself about genetically modified radioactive insects (so uncool, spider’s can’t give consent!) when it happened.
She felt a pinprick on the back of her hand and jerked back.
She looked down, expecting a splinter or dust or maybe a sliver of broken glass.
Instead — nothing.
No wound. No redness. Just a tingle. On her hand.
She rubbed her palm on her skirt and looked up.
“You okay?” Ned whispered, clearly having noticed Penny’s fidgeting.
Penny nodded, “yeah I just thought…yeah. It’s nothing.” She smiled to put him at ease and fell back in step as the class moved out of the lab and on with the tour.
By the time they got to the bus, her vision was slightly blurry and her head was starting to pound. She pulled off her glasses, wiping them on the back of her tie, but it didn’t help.
Must be from the weird lighting, she figured. Or maybe just low blood sugar.
She ignored the chill at the base of her spine and pulled a protein bar out of her backpack.
Her hand shook when she reached for seat backs on the bus, pulling herself down the narrow aisle, and slumped into her assigned seat, Ned joining her a moment later.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Penny just nodded, closing her eyes and leaning against the window. She’d be fine once the protein bar hit her system, she was sure of it.
By the time the sun started to dip behind the Manhattan skyscrapers, the rain had started.
Warm, unseasonable rain that hit the windows in slow, lazy splashes.
Tony was in a strategy meeting for the StarkSat launch, frowning down at a framework timeline while the head of PR explained how they could leverage Social Media in a sort of grassroots guerrilla marketing introduction.
He wasn’t expecting to hear from Penny until their dinner at six, so when he caught her name in FRIDAY’s notification at the top of his tablet at half past three he swiped through to see the full message.
Boss — Miss Stark just returned from her field trip.
Tony frowned, wondering why FRIDAY felt the need to notify him. This was the normal time for Penny to get home from school.
Great. Anything I should know?
Her vitals are outside of normal parameters. She appears unwell.
Tony was halfway to the elevator before the PR guy even realized he was gone.