~Iron Family~

ALiEn SnOt

TW for the next like 10 chapters: blood, gore, and basically medical grossness

Peter awoke to a bright light slamming him in the eyes. He was tied to a chair, and although the bands restricting him were thick, he didn't feel strong enough to break them. Whatever they'd drugged him with, it was powerful.

He was in some kind of interrogation room slash science lab, seated at a table, his mask lying in front of him. And across from him was...

"Happy!" Peter whisper-yelled. The unconscious man didn't respond. There was a little red mark on his forehead, like he'd been knocked out. Peter tried to give Happy's leg a kick with his, but they were restrained to the chair as well.

"Happy, wake up," Peter whisper-yelled louder. "We've gotta get out of here!"

Happy stirred, but continued snoring. Horrible laughter he recognized echoed through the small room. He twisted his head to try and see who it was, but he didn't have to see their face to know. That Guy guy--the CEO of Saberling.

"Oh, I'm afraid you aren't going to get out for a little while," he sneered, coming into the light. His blue eye grew brighter as he smiled, giving Happy's head a little shove.

"Whawhawhat's happenin'? Where's my McDonald's?" he gasped, looking around quickly. "Peter! What did you do?"

"I--"

"He didn't do anything," Guy said, startling Happy so much he probably could've broken out of the restraints if he wanted to. Happy's hands were only tied behind the chair, while all of Peter's limbs were clamped to the sides. They really didn't want him to escape.

"Who are you?" Happy snarled. "I swear, when Tony comes in and hears about this--"

"And how will he hear about it, pray tell?"

Happy and Peter shared a silent look. The tracker--of course! Now all Peter had to do was get his mask on before he showed up and come up with a plausible excuse.

"Oh, and by the way, I feel like we should do something about that tracker..." Guy started, making Peter's hopes plummet. "But I think if you have the suit, it'll be a nice memorial for you to remember. So I took the liberty of ripping out that little bugger."

He held the tracker up in his hands and, as Peter stared, snapped it in half.

"There we go." He dusted off his hands. "Now, are we ready to start business?"

"What do you want with me?" Peter demanded.

"Oh, as I'm sure you know--I have a client very interested in you. Ever since they heard about you, they thought you'd make a good weapon, but there was the matter of getting you to cooperate."

"But--but--the ice cream truck," Peter blurted. "Why not just capture me then? Or all those times you had me cornered, like with the Vulture?"

The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache. "Look, this wasn't my original plan, okay? I was just a guy with some sweet appliance-robots ready to hold the world ransom, but after my client contacted me..." He gave a little chuckle. "Well, let's just say things changed for the better."

"You're sick," Peter spat. "Just let us go home!"

The man slammed his hands down on the table, his blue eye looking over Peter while his other glanced at Happy. Creepy, like Mad Eye Moody from Harry Potter.

"Tell me," he rasped, "everything you know about your powers."

"Uh, how do I put this politely... No way, Jose!"