IronDad and SpideySon Oneshots Vol. 2 [REQUESTS ARE CLOSED FOR NOW]

The Group

Ok, so this is an idea for a story I'm writing down

Um, I turned it into IronDad.

Hope you enjoy.

Tony's still making weapons and is in a spiral of depression when Harley and Peter come along. Chaos and humor ensues.

Yea.
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3rd Person POV

   "Erg, my head..." Tony groaned, sitting up. Another day, another hangover. It's really no wonder, after all, his partying habits have returned, full force at that. No wonder that she left him.

   The love of his life, left him. Finally sick of the suits, the drinking, the danger, the torment that came with being affiliated with Tony, Pepper finally give up on saving him. Honestly, Tony can't blame her. He can only blame himself, after all, he had taken it out on her. So, he went back. Back to everything he told everyone that he wouldn't do anymore. It's a shame, really, how much of a disappointment he was being by going back to everything he swore he was done with.

But now it was quiet. And Tony was quiet. Then he realized 2 very strange things.

1. This is not his house. And 2. That there were sounds coming from the only door in the room.

Now, this means one of two things: He's been kidnapped, or this is death and they're gonna tell him he's going to Hell soon. Neither were great options, but if this was a kidnapping, at least he can handle that. Tony got up, thankful he wasn't chained down or anything, and looked around the room.

It seemed like an old cabin. Wood paneling covered the room, along with a closet, dresser, and a chair with a cloth over it. It looked like it hadn't really been used, but was there for decor. Assumption 1. He's been kidnapped by Grandma. He saw an old lamp, a small glass one, sitting on the dresser. Careful not to make a sound, he walked over, grabbed the lamp, and began to walk to the door. Quietly turning the knob, he creeped out into what looked like a kitchen. A brown haired boy was standing there, cooking something. Tony hesitated, before chucking it at him.

As it was about to hit him though, a force field came up and the glass shattered around him. The boy, not even looking fazed, said, "You're up early. And that's the 3rd one this week."

The boy turned, his messy hair covering his face, but Tony recognized him. "Harley...?" He whispered.

"Hey old man. We can skip introductions for now, I've gotta get Peter." Harley said. "In the meantime, sit. Stay for a while. We've got a lot to discuss." He gestured to the living room, which had a few dusty couches, a small coffee table, and a roaring fire. Tony sat down, millions of questions running through his head. He hasn't seen Harley in AGES, there's been so much going on. Why was the kid here? This didn't look like his house. And who's Peter?

Harley walked back in sighing, and said, "Peters caught up in a project. We'll start without him for now." He say down and said, "Welcome. You're probably wondering where you are, who's Peter, etc. Hopefully we can clear all this up quickly so I can get back to cooking."

   "We'll start with why you're here. You did something, or did a bunch of stuff, that makes you a grade-A asshole right now. When it came to our attention, we had no choice but to intervene."

   "Who's we?" Tony asked, confusion covering his face.

   "The Group."

   "Yeah, who's 'The Group' or whatever?" Tony asked, getting annoyed. This was a kidnapping after all.

   "Well, we're a group of Generation Z kids who happen to have a bit of magic and don't want humanity to destroy the earth with Pollution, Nuclear Weapons, etc. We want a future. That leaves two choices: Eliminate the people causing the problems, OR—" Harley holds his hand up before Tony could say anything. "—redeem the problem people so they make the right decision. Now, we are not up for killing, so we are not doing that for the foreseeable future, but we do plan to get all the assholes and wack some sense into them."

   Tony sat back. "I still have questions."

   "Yeah, I'm getting to them." Harley grumbled. "You're here because you're making weapons. We don't need weapons, especially in a time like this. Hopefully we can drill it in your brain why we can't let you make these weapons. You've also been an asshole to the people around you, so seeing as they can't solve the problem, we have to step in."

   "So how'd you get here? And who's Peter?" Tony said sullenly. Being told what to do by kids who probably aren't out of High School is less than ideal.

   "I'm here because we have a shared goal, having a world that isn't fucked up. It'd be great to get to my 30's and 40's without having to deal with this shit. As for Peter, well, you'll see." Harley said.

   "So that's it, huh? You finally come see me to tell me off, is that it?" Tony growled.

   "I already tried to come and see you. You just don't remember." Harley said, a flash of rage making him scowl, before saying, "Go outside. I've got work to do, and frankly you're not good company."

   Tony huffed, getting up and muttering, "Whatever."

   Walking outside, Tony examined the terrain. This could be somewhere in the south, mainly because of the blazing heat and the sweet tea sitting on a small wooden table. Definitely a suburban area, as the scents of smog and the constant noise that came with the city wasn't at all present at all here. A forest lined the end of the property, making a full circle around the cabin style house, and fields stretched on for at least 2 miles. Walking out from the porch, the heat hit full force. 'What is it, 110 degrees?!' He thought, as he already started to sweat, one of the downsides to the rather pleasant place. A shed sat near the end of the property, a windy dirt road leading to it.

"GO TO THE SHED!" Harley yelled from inside.

   Tony seriously considered going back and punching him, but if what Harley said is true, then that'll only make him stay longer. So, gritting his teeth, he made his way to the shed.

   Opening the door when he finally got there, he saw a long stair case leading down to a room. Groaning at all the walking he had to do, Tony begrudgingly walked down, his feet aching.

   Only to find a brown haired boy leaning over something.

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1133 words

Yeah imma just

Leave ya with that

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