Tony wondered if he would skirt around the topic if Peter became the subject of it.
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It started off with a few missing children. Just a few. Five. Maybe six. Peter Parker lost track of the numbers, but with every child he found...
Oh no, another MCU Spider-Man story. Oh yes, it's going to updated fairly quickly?
Oh yesn't, this whole mess isn't my story. I mean, I made it, sure, but not in the right state of mind? Just read the end notes after reading this chapter, alright?
By the way, the story quickly descends to hell in less than five minutes. You have been warned.
(Note: I don't know how to write Irondad, I'm soRRY--)
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▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ —CHAPTER ONE — IN A DULL AND COLD ALLEY
'Okay, so the presentation was pretty standard, I guess? Like, all Mr. Osborn talked about was this new revolutionary technique or material or— or something (sorry, I wasn't paying attention) that could help soldiers in wars and stuff.'
Peter twisted in midair, snapping out his wrists and firing streams of webbing at the thugs running below him. One of them collapsed to the ground under the force of the sticky netting, while the other was flung to the side and plastered against the wall. The purse they stole clattered to the ground and sagged with a resigned sigh.
Spider-Man flipped down from his perch on the wall, landing lightly on his feet to scoop up the purse. He glared at the thugs, the lenses of his mask contracting, as he hissed to them, 'Dunno why you fellas went after that poor woman – for what? Cash? Couldn't you just use the ATM and make a withdrawal?'
The thugs had the audacity to look guilty, and Peter waved to them, letting them stay webbed-up in that small alley until the authorities arrived to pick them up. Shooting a web, Peter flung himself up into their air, purse in hand.
'So, where was I?' Peter started again, swinging back towards the area he had left the woman to whom the purse belonged to. The evening air was chilly and still, and Peter could almost feel his joints pop and crackle with every move he made. 'Oh – right, the tech. Yeah, so Mr. Osborn showed us some specs of his— oh, wait. Should I even be telling you this? Don't businesses have a rule or something that prevents their super-secret projects from being leaked to prevent their ideas from being stolen?'
Silence on the other side of the comms. Peter had only dropped in front of the woman and given her purse back to her when Mr. Stark said, 'Hmm, I don't know, it wouldn't hurt to know one thing now, would it?'
As the woman thanked Spider-Man and ran off, Peter turned and hissed into the comms, 'You are a bad CEO.'
Mr. Stark laughed dryly on the other side of the line. 'Oh, sure,' he drawled, 'me wanting to know what some fellow businessmen like myself are creating.'
'Mr. Stark.'
'Yeah, fine.' Mr. Stark grunted, then said, 'You know, I've never been a fan of Osborn's things. He's a genius, I admit that, but his methods are...questionable. Oscorp's notorious for stealing other corporations' ideas, changing their names and slapping a label on them and declaring them theirs. Then they go ahead to sue the other manufacturers. Osborn just plays dirty; it's a wonder how other biomedical and technology companies have managed to survive this long before being sued to oblivion.'
