Chapter Text
"Is anything happening, Karen?"
Peter pulled his mask back over his mouth once he finished the last of the much too salty pretzel he had gotten from a very perplexed street vendor earlier, asking Karen to fill him in on possible crime going on in the area as he swallowed. The blue lights on his screen lit up in response, indicating that Karen was searching through police scanners.
"Nothing appears to be happening at the moment, Peter," his faithful AI responded.
Peter blew out a deep breath and huffed. Typical. Nothing ever happened on a Saturday, much less in the middle of the afternoon. Was it all the criminals' day off? Lunch break, maybe? Whatever it was, it was annoying. The teen impatiently kicked his legs up against the side of the building he was currently sitting on, his heels bouncing against the hard brick.
"What about now?" he asked, hoping, but not really expecting, for something new to have happened in the next twelve seconds.
"That would be a no, Peter,"
This time he let out a loud groan, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. You'd think being a superhero would be more interesting, but nope. Well, maybe it was more interesting for an actual Avenger rather than your average Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man and Avenger-in-Training.
"Maybe I'll just swing around then. I'm sure something's bound to pop up, and it's better than sitting around anyway," he rambled off to Karen, who promptly agreed and outlined a more scenic route for him.
He followed the route, taking his time to do flips and spins, much to the joy of onlookers below, if the few hollers he got were anything to go by. There was, thankfully, a bit of crime on the way. Nothing big, a couple of bicycle thieves and someone who tried to steal an old lady's purse-what kind of monster steals from an old lady anyway? So, all in all, his Saturday had been going pretty well.
Spider-Man was nearing Central Park when Karen spoke up in what sounded like an anxious tone. Mr. Stark's AIs had a lot of expression and personality, a lot more than most would care to admit.
"Peter, my scan indicates that something has breached the atmosphere,"
He paused mid-swing at her words, quickly recovering from his shock so as to not crash into a nearby building.
"Entered the atmosphere? Like-like an asteroid? Is it not burning up?"
"My scans from the Stark Industries Satellite indicate that it is resistant to the friction in the mesosphere and is, in fact, holding together,"
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, pausing on a billboard to think.
"Would you like to see images of the object?"
"I have access to that!? Never mind! Yes, pictures would be great, Karen!"
A couple of photos appeared in front of him, presumably taken from Mr. Stark's satellite. They displayed Earth in the background corner, the deep black of space dotted with stars covered what wasn't blotted out by Earth. What stood out in both of these pictures, however, was the large ship that had moved a considerable difference between the two photos taken. So, for some reason, there was a spaceship headed towards Earth that was really fast. Great.
"Uhhh, should-should we alert Mr. Stark of the spaceship? Oh! Can you track that things projection, try and find out where it's headed?" he stuttered out, itching to move but knowing he can't do anything while the spaceship is a couple of hundred miles out. What was going to happen? Was it an invasion? Thor? Did Thor even have a spaceship?
"Mr. Stark is currently in a meeting in Washington D.C. and Friday has most likely already sent out a warning to him as well, but I can send another if you would like,"
"Uh, no, Karen. You don't need to do that, but the spaceship? Whe-where do you think it's going to be?"
"Currently working on projections, they'll be done in approximately thirty seconds,"
"Oh, okay. Thanks, Karen," and so he waits. But he swears it's longer than thirty seconds. Maybe he's just dramatic, maybe he's just anxious about the whole thing. Who knows?
"Approximations complete. The spaceship will land around the coordinates 40 degrees North, 74 degrees West, New York City, in about 5 minutes,"
New York? Why was it always New York? Why not, like, Ohio or something!?
"Shit! Shit, shitshitshit!" he muttered frantically, quickly webbing away. To where, he didn't know, but moving helped him think, helped him calm down, "Is-does this mean aliens? Is Mr. Stark coming? Aliens are a big deal, right? The kind of thing you need an Avenger for?"
"I cannot access what Mr. Stark is currently doing, but I can notify him that you are requesting for him?"
"No, I'm-I'm sure he's on the way. He probably already knows, no need to-" he cut himself off, both talking and web-slinging, sticking to the side of a tall building as a shadow cast the street into darkness. Peter stared at the sky in barely concealed apprehension, his body tight with panic.
The spaceship had arrived, a rather aerodynamic looking one at that, stirring up dust and creating wind that whipped trash, signs, and street vendors' products through the street.
"Oh god,"
It took Peter a moment to get himself moving again, shocked into stillness, but he immediately headed over to where the ship was decelerating, which was Central Park. With his enhanced senses he could already hear the screams of those that had spotted the alien ship and were, hopefully, evacuating.
"Karen, alert First Responders, um-call the police or something. We need to make sure civilians get out of the way,"
"Alerting First Responders now,"
He arrived in Central Park in less than a minute, webbing through the leafy foliage at the park's entrance to get to where the spaceship was located. The vigilante rushed over the heads of people who were running out of the park, away from whatever would greet him when he got there. Good, the less civilians the better. However, when he arrived at where the spaceship was currently hovering a few hundred feet above, he still saw plenty of people. He didn't know if they were brave or just plain stupid.
Just about everyone who hadn't evacuated was filming, their phones pointed at the alien technology. He was amazed by their tenacity, holding steady against the wind that was created by the arrival of the thing they were filming, but it also irked him. New Yorkers had no sense of self-preservation and it made his job so much harder.
"Okay, people! Time to move it!" came a familiar voice in the crowd. Peter looked over to see MJ trying to get the idiots who had stayed behind to get out of Central Park. Unfortunately, nobody made a move to leave. For a fleeting second, he and his classmate made eye contact. It felt like it stretched on for ages, only ending when he finally looked away, surely blushing as bright red as his suit.
"She's right people! You need to leave, like, now!" Peter tried to encourage them, putting on a deep New York accent to cover up his secret identity. MJ was already suspicious enough.
Thankfully, they seemed more interested in listening to a superhero than they did MJ, and started to leave, but not before taking pictures and videos of him as they passed. MJ didn't leave, however, and instead she walked right up to him and crossed her arms.
"Uhh, thanks for the help, Miss. But you should go now. It's not safe,"
She narrowed her eyes at him, but turned to leave all the same, unfortunately, a bright blue beam exited the spaceship, stopping her in her tracks. Both him and MJ stood frozen in shock as the bright blue light appeared and then was gone in a matter of seconds, leaving a towering alien. It looked kind of humanoid, but it was at least twice his height, with scaly bluish-gray skin and two sets of arms, as well as large clawed feet. It held some sort of weapon that looked vaguely like a gun, but could be a sword for all he knew. Its eyes were small and on the side of its head, which reminded him of a T-Rex, though the face shape more closely resembled a human's. It almost kind of reminded him of a very ugly Machamp.
Unsure whether this was friend or foe, he stepped protectively in front of MJ, waiting for the alien to make the first move. Which it did. Its movements were slow as it took large, thundering steps towards them. With each step it took towards them he and MJ shuffled backwards just a little. His spidey senses were ringing louder with each step it took, so he kind of doubted that this alien was going to say, 'We come in peace,'
His instincts were right because when the alien came close enough it reached out with two of its four arms to grab him and MJ. Acting on instinct, he lunged backwards and swiftly gathered MJ in his arms, taking a large leap to deposit MJ away from the ugly Machamp. She let out a hoarse scream when he jumped, making Peter flinch slightly.
"Sorry about that, Miss," he told her, adopting his rough New Yorker accent, "Just-umm, try and lay low and get out of the park. So, bye!"
He turned back to the alien before she could respond, webbing towards it so as to distract it from MJ. He landed a kick on Machamp's chest, effectively knocking him back. It let out what sounded like a mix between a gurgle and a roar, showing off rows of small serrated teeth.
"Jeez, the dentist must be a pain with all those teeth! What's the bill like?" he quipped, before dodging out of the way as Machamp lunged for him again. He wasn't fast enough though. A clawed hand clamped around his wrist, pulling him back, and the alien flipped him over. His back hit the ground hard and Peter was just grateful that they were fighting on grass instead of concrete, "Karen? Is Mr. Stark on the way?"
"I am alerting Mr. Stark to your predicament now. I will let you know when he relays any information," his AI responded smoothly.
"Thanks, Karen," he replied, leaping up and darting out of range of the alien.
So, the big question, why was the alien here? It obviously didn't come in peace, but what did it want? World domination? Seemed unlikely, there was only one alien, nothing like The Battle of New York. Whatever it was, he just needed to try and keep the Machamp knockoff preoccupied until Mr. Stark arrived.
Spider-Man was about to jump back into the fray when the alien started running over to a patch of trees. He watched Machamp curiously for a moment, confused as to why it was going over there. His confusion was lost, however, when Machamp grabbed MJ from the branches of a rather large tree she had managed to climb. She was wriggling around and screaming profanities at the alien, making the teen's blood run cold. Without a second thought, he charged at the alien, but it seemed Machamp anticipated his attack.
It effortlessly aimed its gun at him and shot it. It was so quick and efficient that he didn't have any time to react. The blast from the alien gun knocked him onto the floor and left him temporarily stunned, his muscles seizing and cramping, leaving him a shaky mess. God, whatever that thing was, he hated it. He hated all alien tech actually. He was so very very very done with it.
Machamp leaned down and picked him up around the waist, he struggled weakly in response, unable to actually land a blow. It made him feel incredibly helpless, being completely aware of the world around him but barely able to move. Machamp began walking away with them, moving towards the large gray spaceship that was still hovering stories above them.
"Incoming call from Tony Stark,"
"What? Oh my God, answer it," Peter ordered Karen weakly, finding it difficult to catch his breath after being hit by an alien stun gun. Mr. Stark's face suddenly filled his screen. He was surrounded by little holograms that centered around his eye and the sound of rushing wind made the limp teen think that his mentor was in the suit.
"Hey, kid. Heard there was an alien problem, so sit tight. I've sent something over and I'm on my way,"
"Uhhh, it might be a little late for that, Mr. Stark," Peter responded wearily, his voice tight. They were now directly under the spaceship, the bright sun no longer in his eyes from the shadow of the large spaceship. MJ hadn't ceased her attempts to try and escape from the aliens grasp and Peter was still finding it hard to land a hit. Though he was regaining control of his limbs rapidly and was starting to fight back as well.
"'A little late for that?'" came the incredulous voice of his mentor, who was giving him a rather steely look of exasperation, "What the hell does that mean?"
Before he could respond something cold clasped onto his back, causing him to gasp in surprise, and spread over his body like liquid, closing over his hands and face, effectively creating a new suit. Peter recognized he was wearing the Iron Spider suit, he remembered helping Mr. Stark upgrade it in the lab, working on the nanotech. It also meant that he knew of its abilities. He quickly dismissed the video call with Mr. Stark but kept him on the line.
"It means," he panted, "that our new alien friend has other ideas,"
His suit's extra legs sprouted out of his back and gripped onto the fist and arm holding him. Machamp dropped him with a loud growl, though he didn't know if it was surprise or pain from the sharp tips of his mechanical legs.
Before either of them could make any move to attack, a blinding blue light shot down from the ship above them. He closed his eyes hard in response to the harsh light, but snapped them open as a weightless feeling overtook him. A quick look down showed that they were being lifted up from the ground. Rapidly. He glanced over at MJ, who looked nothing like she usually did. Her calamity and composure were thrown out the window, her dark eyes wide and frightened.
"Peter," snapped Mr. Stark in his ear, worry evident in his voice, "How long can you stall for? I'm still a couple minutes out,"
The teen gulped, unsure that he would be able to occupy the alien long enough for Mr. Stark to arrive. Before he knew it they were in the spaceship and the alien was shifting his gun back around. He quickly looked around the ship, which had a rather simple layout. There was what looked like a cell, but the cell bars were some kind of laser instead of metal. On the other side of the ship there was a window and some kind of control panel that Peter assumed was how Machamp commandeered the ship.
If he could keep the alien preoccupied, even for just a couple of minutes, Mr. Stark would be able to get to them. All he needed to do was not get shot. Easy, right? He dodged guns all the time, though it usually wasn't in a spaceship.
"Yeah, Mr. Stark. I'll stall, though I don't know how long I can," Peter answered as confidently as he could, jumping over to the control panel. Maybe if he could get Machamp to shoot the controls it would make it unable to take off from Earth and give Mr. Stark enough time to reach them.
Machamp aimed its gun at Peter, shooting at him multiple times as he dove out of the way. But the stun gun had no impact on the controls, leaving barely a trace. And out of nowhere, Machamp suddenly seemed to grow a brain. It aimed the gun at Michelle's head. She had shown no signs of slowing down on her attempts to escape and hitting the alien, but stilled when she realized an alien weapon was now being pointed at her.
Machamp let out a series of indistinguishable growls and gurgles that Peter didn't understand. He did get the idea behind it though, 'Surrender or she gets shot.' Peter weighed his options. He had survived when he was blasted, in fact he was fine now, but he wasn't a normal human and didn't get hit in the head. So, he stayed still, surrendered.
"We're going to be okay, MJ," he assured her, but cursed himself internally for calling her by her name.
"Clearly, we're doing just fine," she said bitingly, scowling. Yeah, that was fair.
"Kid," came his mentor's voice, "I'm almost there. Just sit tight,"
Peter muttered a quick 'ok' in response, eyes trained on the alien, which had grabbed him by his arm and was dragging him along. It still kept the weapon trained on MJ so as to encourage Peter to try and not fight back. They were both shoved unceremoniously into the cell, the laser bars trapping them in, creating a light blue hue.
"Uhh, are-are you okay, Miss?" he asked MJ, deepening his voice slightly. She gave him an irritated look, as though she couldn't believe him.
"Cut the shit, Parker. How are we getting out of here?" she snapped. Peter just stared at her, his mouth agape in complete shock, which just made her roll her eyes, "You're not exactly subtle, Peter. Did you think I wouldn't be able to figure out?"
"I-I-um," he stammered, his voice breaking.
Before he could actually manage to say anything comprehensible, the ship zoomed off, causing MJ to stumble back. He managed to catch her before she fell, grabbing her by her arms and holding her steady, rooted to the spot with his stickiness. She fixed him with a frightening glare, looking as though she were ready to take on the Machamp ripoff by herself.
"Pete, you're going real high real fast. What's happening, kid?" Mr. Stark said, sounding slightly panicked.
"The spaceship's taken off, Mr. Stark. And MJ and I are kind of...on it?"
"Fuck," the man muttered under his breath, "You're---aving the atmosphere,"
His heart dropped at the news disrupted by the static. They were leaving the atmosphere?
"We're--but y-you're almost here, right?"
"I----ew--utes-t,"
He couldn't understand that at all. Had they left the atmosphere already? Could he no longer communicate with Mr. Stark? This was bad. Reallyreally really bad.
"Mr. Stark?" no response, "Mr. Stark!?"
"What's happening? Is Stark on his way?" MJ spoke up, still holding onto his arms.
"He's on his way, but, I think we've left the atmosphere. I can't talk to him anymore," he answered as confidently as he could, though he couldn't stop his voice from wavering. He knew MJ heard it, too. Nothing could get past her, not even, apparently, his identity.
"Am I really that obvious?"
"...in accordance with the Sokovia Accords, under Section 11, Paragraph 12, it clearly states..."
The man's gravelly voice filtered in and out of focus, giving Tony a headache. This meeting had been going on for too long. It had been too long when the meeting first started three hours ago. He'd give anything for it to end so he could just head back to New York. Looking back on it, he wished that there had never been an excuse to leave in the first place.
"Boss," Friday spoke up, cutting across the UN Director, "Something has entered the atmosphere. From pictures taken from the Stark Industries Satellite , I've identified it as Alien Spacecraft,"
That wasn't really the excuse he was looking for.
Tony turned to the board of UN Officials, who had all frozen at the news that Friday had delivered.
"Well, I do believe that is my cue. This will have to be rescheduled for some other time," he quipped to the group of stunned Officials, who returned his statement with a few remarks to 'do his job.' He left quickly, trying to bar panic from his mind as flashes of the Chitauri Invasion whipped around his head. He couldn't afford that right now, not with the possible threat of something so sinister, "What do you got for me, Fri?"
His AI pulled up a couple of photos, which showed a large spaceship and its difference in moving from one spot to the other. So it was fast, big, and he had no idea whether it was friendly or not. Based on past experiences, though, he doubted that they were coming for a cup of tea.
"Karen has already calculated where the spaceship is projected to land, per Mr. Parker's request,"
"Great, the kid's already on the case," he remarked sarcastically, stomach plummeting at the idea of Peter being involved. He tapped the arc reactor on his chest to activate the nanobots and forming his suit, "Where's it headed?"
"New York City, boss,"
"Well that's just fantastic, " he snapped, firing off into the air and heading towards the predetermined destination. He engaged the thrusters on his suit, trying to reach New York as soon as possible. Thankfully, he was set to arrive in about five minutes. Apparently though, five minutes is too long.
"Boss, Mr. Parker is engaged in combat with an alien. Karen has notified me that he is sustaining injuries," Friday informs him, his heart is in his throat, making him unable to answer for a few moments. He needed to get to Peter, needed to make sure he was alright.
"Call-call Peter, Friday!" he choked out, his voice tipping on the edge of yelling, "Force it through if you have to! And unlock 17-A,"
"Yes, boss. Calling Mr. Parker," it rang a couple of seconds before Peter answered. The kid's face filled his screen, it was pained and his teeth were gritted in a tight grimace. He quickly deduced that whatever was going on was not going well.
"Hey, kid. Heard there was an alien problem, so sit tight. I've sent something over and I'm on my way," he ordered in a reassuring tone, keeping his voice light. Hopefully, if he could get Peter to avoid the situation, or at least stay on the sidelines, then he wouldn't get hurt and Tony could take care of it. Preferably by himself. Unfortunately, life never went the way you planned.
"Uhhh, it might be a little late for that, Mr. Stark," Peter said, his voice tight, making Tony fix the kid with a steely look.
"'A little late for that?'" he repeated incredulously. How was this kid always in trouble? "What the hell does that mean?"
It looked as though Peter was about to respond but was cut off by something that Tony couldn't see, though the kid's shocked expression that quickly changed to one of relief gave him a couple of hints. He breathed a little easier knowing that he was more protected in the Iron Spider suit.
"It means that our new alien friend has other ideas," his protege said, dismissing the video call so that he could see what he was doing. He thankfully had enough sense to keep Tony on the line though. Alien friend? Did that mean there was only one? God he hoped so, there wasn't enough of him to stave off an entire invasion.
Peter's grunts and whoops let him know that the kid was fighting at the moment, but he didn't understand the full scope of the situation until he had Friday play live feed of the Baby Monitor Protocol.
The alien was huge, much larger than the Chitauri, as well as rather scaly. Though most notable was the two sets of arms and the fact that a teenage girl was being held in the alien's undoubtedly strong grip. Before either Peter or the alien could make a move, blue light filled the screen a--were they floating? Of course they were. Classic alien sucky beam.
Tony glanced over at his ETA, dismayed to find that he was still a couple of minutes out. Too far out to protect the kid.
"Peter," he snapped, making sure he had his attention, "How long can you stall for? I'm still a couple minutes out,"
The enhanced teen hesitated before his faux confident voice answered, "Yeah, Mr. Stark. I'll stall, but I don't know how long I can,"
He kept an eye on the kid as he continued to fly to New York with a new set of determination. Unfortunately, stalling didn't end up working. The alien was relatively smart it seemed, as it held its weapon to the girl's head(who he had since recognized as MJ from seeing her at Decathlon Meets), forcing Peter to surrender. He appreciated that the teen was staying calm, trying to reassure MJ of their safety, even though it was debatable. Something which MJ knew, if her biting comment was anything to go by.
"Kid, I'm almost there. Just sit tight," he told the kid again, hoping that if he said it enough, maybe it would come true. He was going to make sure that Peter was alright. Aliens wouldn't become a staple of fear for the kid like they were for him. They'd just stay a relative figment of the imagination in movies. Relative as Peter obviously knew plenty about the Chitauri Invasion.
"Okay," he muttered in response, the alien grabbing coming to grab the kid by the arm.
Just as Iron Man was only a couple minutes out--so close to reaching Peter--Peter's tracker began to move inhumanly fast, which Peter was, but the kid could not move as fast as he currently was. That's not good.
"Pete, you're going real high real fast. What's happening, kid?"
"The spaceship's taken off, Mr. Stark. And MJ and I are kind of...on it?"
"Fuck," he muttered, watching as Spider-Man's tracker continued to go higher and higher. It was one of the fastest things he had ever seen. He turned up instead of going straight to New York, hoping he could get to Peter faster, "You're leaving the atmosphere,"
"We're--but y---re al--re, ri--?" Peter tried to respond, whatever he was saying was lost in the static. Shit.
"Don't worry," he swallowed, knowing that the kid probably couldn't hear what he was saying, but continued on anyway, "I'm coming for you, kid,"
There was no response.
"Friday? A little help, please," he grunted out. His AI responded by increasing the power on his boots, making his suit more rocket-like. He was far above the clouds by now, and growing desperate. Peter had been kidnapped by aliens--or well, he was trapped on an alien spaceship, technically kidnapping had to be the intent. How was that even possible? It sounded too much like those stupid mystery shows the kid had forced him to watch. But Peter wouldn't disappear, never to return, he would make sure of it.
That's when he saw it, a huge spaceship, and by huge he meant huge. Colossal even. It had to be miles long, but there was no way something like that had landed in the middle of New York. Getting closer, he noticed that some kind of door was closing, shielding what looked like a much smaller spaceship from view. Tony continued towards the ship, barely noticing how cold he was. All he knew was that Peter was somewhere on that spaceship and he needed to get to him.
He was still a couple hundred yards out when it began glowing, the exterior of it seeming to vibrate with energy. He assumed it was some kind of lightspeed-hyperspace thing, because he blinked and suddenly it was gone, the force of its leave launching him back. Tony quickly pushed his hands backwards to reorient himself, immediately looking back towards the now gone spaceship once he was righted. The only thing that even confirmed that there had been a spaceship there seconds before was the rapidly fading trail of light.
"No," he breathed out, blinking rapidly, sure that being in space was messing with him somehow. Yet, every time his eyes blinked open, it was still gone, "No. Nonono nonono !!! NO!! PETER!!!"
He yelled, and screamed, only aware of how useless it was. His entire being felt cold from shock, and maybe being in space too. At this point he couldn't tell. All he could think about was that Peter was gone. Gone, lost in space, with the stars and aliens and wormholes and--
"Friday," he choked out, "Follow-follow the-"
"Boss," his AI interrupted gently, "You cannot follow Peter. Your suit is not designed for deep space travel,"
He never answered. How could he? His kid had just been abducted by aliens. And as dumb as it sounded, it frightened him more than anything ever had.
The alien came for them after a few minutes, though this time another one accompanied it. The new one was slightly shorter than the other one, its scaly skin a bit darker, though it was clear they were the same species. Alright, he needed a new system. Machamp and...Four Arms, his new alien friends! After all, friends dragged each other into spaceships after attacking them, right?
Four Arms gargled something in their weird alien language and Machamp responded in kind before pressing some sort of keypad, opening their cell. He and MJ backed up, and he pushed her behind him protectively, his mechanical legs arching over him in preparation of an attack. The aliens were ready for this, it seemed. Each had two guns that were trained on him and MJ, Four Arms holding what resembled cuffs that he held out, letting out a terse roar. He got the message to stand down, and though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he knew he couldn't take on Machamp and Four Arms, not by himself, not while MJ was in the line of fire. Besides, Mr. Stark was on his way. He would rescue them.
The cuffs spread and closed around his fists, similar to the nanotechnology he and Mr. Stark had been engineering. Peter examined them curiously, losing himself for a moment as he marveled at the alien technology. It was really fascinating, looking at the similarities and the differences between tech on Earth and tech from...wherever these guys were from.
It wasn't until the teen was shoved hardly in the back by the butt of a gun did he realize that he had been lost in thought. Was he seriously that incapable of paying attention?
Maybe Mr. Stark was right about his attention span. Damn.
He and MJ were herded off of the spaceship they had just been in into what he assumed was a much larger one, not that he could see it. His best guess was from the sheer size of the ceilings and halls. Four Arms took the lead while Machamp remained in the back. He wondered where they were being taken. Maybe the alien leader? Like their Queen or something? He pondered this for a bit more as they were taken down another corridor(was it just him or did this spaceship seem to go on forever?) but was stopped from his pondering by the strangest sight he had ever seen.
Now, both as a Superhero and a New Yorker he had seen a lot of strange and frightening things. Like alien weapons, the Avengers fighting in an airport, Mr. Stark without coffee in the morning, and one time a drunk man dressed up as Hello Kitty running around Central Park screaming about eels at 7 pm. But this topped anything and everything he had ever encountered-by a long shot. Well, Mr. Stark without his coffee was a close second.
In front of Peter and MJ stretched a long corridor, so long that he barely noticed the curve of the floor, lined with large clear glass broken up into different squares. That in and of itself was not strange(well, maybe a little, but everything kind of was at this point), nor frightening. But the creatures that lay beyond the windows were extremely so.
Aliens of all different types resided in the exhibits cut off by the windows, reminding him of a zoo. He stared in disbelief, his jaw dropped, at the aliens as he and MJ were marched through the foyer. He could tell by her sharp intake of breath, that MJ was clearly caught off guard too.
"Wh-They look...sad," MJ spoke quietly, squinting at a deep purple alien with pointed feet as they passed, "Why do they look sad?"
Now that she had pointed it out, they did look sad. He observed them with a watchful eye, looking over their morose faces. At least, he thought they were morose, they were aliens after all, but they all had similar characteristics. Not biologically, but rather in how they acted. They were hunched over, or restlessly pacing, movements slow, if they moved at all. Their faces-if they had any-showed anger, though most looked hopeless and weary.
"Yeah," he breathed, eyeing a different exhibit with two orange aliens that vaguely reminded him of vultures, though they had what looked like fur instead of feathers. He turned his head to face hers, speaking quietly he asked, "What do you think this place is?"
"Some kind of...alien horror story," she shrugged, smirking a little, as though she wasn't afraid. His heart skipped a beat, admiring her ability to remain so calm. He let out a small chuckle, hoping that he masked his as well as she did hers.
They didn't talk the rest of the way, just continued observing the extraterrestrials as they walked, trying to decipher the alien language engraved in shiny looking boards that he guessed was what the aliens were called. After a couple of minutes, they arrived at an empty cell--well, empty of aliens. He had noticed that the other exhibits had been filled with flora--he guessed from the respective planets of the residents--as well as strange-looking furniture that accommodated for the aliens' physiology. The cell he stood in front looked almost like a hotel room. Almost.
There was a queen-sized bed sitting on a simple looking wooden stand up against a window that showed the intensity of deep space. The bed itself had dark gray covers and a couple of rather large blood-red pillows. There was a purple rug and some matching green flower-print chairs which surrounded a metal table you might see outside at restaurants, as well as shelves that were a very dark brown. They held a couple of pots with some small plants, like cacti and a few lone flowers. There was also a small bathroom area in the back corner, with a black toilet and a shower that connected to a tub. The only bit of privacy was provided by a shower curtain with a Spongebob print. Whoever had decorated clearly had no sense of taste, or color. Maybe they saw different colors than they did? Either way, the entire thing looked as though someone had chosen random furniture from Ikea and slapped it into a one-roomed apartment.
Machamp said something undecipherable to his ears to Four Arms, who responded with a low grunt and pressed his hand on a sleek keypad. It lit up yellow and let out a happy ding. The keypad was apparently the lock to the hotel imposter, because the glass lifted, allowing them access to the strange room. Machamp let out a gurgle as Four Arms took off their restraints and gestured towards the room but neither he nor MJ moved until they were forced in, knocked harshly by the butt of the aliens' guns.
He stumbled into the room, his amazingly weird balance keeping him from falling, and managed to grab MJ before she could fall. He looked up sharply, just quick enough to see the glass door snap shut. Machamp and Four Arms were nowhere in sight, having already sauntered off. Gee, what great friends.
"So this is fun," MJ quipped, drawing herself to her full height as she glared at the door in malcontent. Despite her confident posture, her voice wavered with an obvious note of panic, "This is exactly how I wanted to spend my Saturday. Kidnapped by aliens and trapped in the ugliest room ever," she gave him a side-eye, "But now I have at least had my theory confirmed that you're Spider-Man, Peter Parker, "
The nanobots retracted around his face, allowing him to take off his cloth mask connected to his other suit still underneath the nanotech, letting MJ see his face.
"Now's not really the time, MJ," he remarked, his voice high and strained, "How did you even know?"
Her head tilted as she gave him her best 'resting bitch face,' which made his skin prickle. She had a rather good one. His crush looked thoroughly unimpressed as she kept up eye contact with him, not stopping until he looked down at his feet.
"I mean...it's kind of obvious,"
"What?! No it's not! It's not that obvious!" he paused uncertainly, "Is it?"
Damn his squeaky voice.
MJ just nodded in response, crossing her arms and keeping up her unimpressed look which was kind of ruined by the way she was holding back a smile. Despite the situation she actually seemed kind of giddy at the fact she knew who he was.
Peter, feeling awkward and flushed, steeled himself to take a better look around the room. Where had they even gotten all this stuff? What, did the Chitauri attack New York just to grab Spongebob shower curtains? To be fair, they were pretty cool curtains, they even included the mocking Spongebob.
"Uhh, Peter?" came MJ's voice, unusually tentative.
"Yeah?" he responded, still trying to make sense of the room that was beginning to hurt his eyes. Seriously, every single color was way too saturated.
"When is Stark going to get here?"
"Soon. He'll be here, don't worry,"
"It might be a bit late for that,"
What?
He turned on his heels sharply, catching sight of MJ. She stared at the large window that displayed the deep confines of space, her face contorted in confusion and fear. The teen's heart skipped a beat in fear and he jogged over to her, his steps faltering when he saw what she was looking at. The stars were blurred, shining colored streaks contrasting against the black of space. What was happening? Stars didn't look like that! Like a puzzle piece fitting into place, it all pieced itself together.
They were moving. Fast, incredibly fast--as in light speed fast. There was no way they were near Earth anymore, and the odds that Mr. Stark had somehow made his way onto the spaceship were low. And even if he had, their odds of getting back to Earth were still slim. MJ gave him a fleeting look, her eyes wide and--thanks to his super hearing--her heart erratic.
"What the fuck are we going to do?"