Reticent Monsters (Ultimate Spider-Man - Cartoon)

Chapter 15: Teen Troubles

Warning: Light swearing in this chapter.

Crossbones POV

This was why he was never going to have kids.

Crossbones crossed the threshold of his office and sank down into the chair by the desk. The room was exactly what one would think when referring to the word: office. Yes, it had a fancy dark-wood desk with a mobile leather chair, a locked filing cabinet was placed against the wall and a tall lamp shade was by the side. But that was all that could fall into the "office" department of the space.

Throughout the rest of the room was Crossbones own added touches. Weapons hung from the walls, guns, knives, chains, baton, nun-chucks, just about anything. Several target posters were nailed to the wall, already sporting dozens of holes dotting the surface, most of which hung around the bullseye ring. In the center of one particular poster, the Spider-Man mask was pinned, fraying and littered with numerous bullet holes, one of which had shattered the smooth, glossy eye lenses into dozens of fragmented pieces on the floor. A punching bag hung from the ceiling in the corner, and nearby that lay different workout props ranging from dumbbells to pull-up bars. That was where he usually spent his time. Not behind some stuffy desk. He'd rather be moving and fighting, as opposed to scheming or plotting as Arnim Zola Octavius always had.

And look where that got them, he thought mirthfully. One sunk to the bottom of the ocean and the other chained and forced into servitude like a dog. That's what happened when you spent too much time thinking and less time doing.

Aw, but what did Crossbones care. He was in charge until Arnim Zola was back, and who knows how long that's going to take. Honestly, he quite liked being the head of Hydra. It gave him a sense of regality and power. The possibilities were endless with Hydra under his thumb. There were so many things he could, plots he was already planning.

Unfortunately, the only time he would truly succeed with those plans, was when S.H.I.E.L.D was a smoking, burning crater and all its agents were ashes on the ground. Which actually brought him back to his former thoughts.

He looked down at his blood-stained knuckles, flexing his fingers and watching the stained skin roll with the movements. With a small grunt, he grabbed the towel bundled on the desk, put there after his last workout, and wiped the blood from his hands.

Maybe he should've felt guilty for beating a kid, one, in fact, that he already strangled to unconsciousness. But this kid, oh no. The kid was practically begging for it. He should've just left when the kid blacked out, but the frustration from the interrogation AND having lost his biggest advantage really pissed him off. He couldn't hold back the punches once he started.

But the kid would be fine. He had a healing factor. Besides, Morbius would take care of it.

"Peter Parker," Crossbones mumbled, rolling the syllables around on his tongue. What a simple name. What a common name. He would have never pegged Spider-Man's alter ego name as something as innocent or mundane as Peter. Maybe he expected it to be extravagant, or odd. Something to match the heroes cocky and smart-ass personality.

But no. It was Peter.

Peter Parker.

Crossbones liked to think of himself as a decent guy, in terms of being a criminal that is. He didn't usually beat go around taking teenagers, holding them prisoner, and beating them into unconsciousness. He fought people more his level, like Captain America or Iron Man. But this kid...

Oh, THIS kid was something different, that's for sure. The kind of difference that made him want to put a bullet through their brain, teen or no teen. The kid was arrogant, sarcastic, annoying, a pain in the ass, and a hell of a lot tougher than he looked. Not only that, but he was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. But not only an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, he was one of Fury's top heroes.