...
...
...
Eleven: Happy Sends a Prototype
...
...
...
"Happy? Who's Happy?" Brian is pulling his phone back out of his pocket, fingers poised and ready. "What's his number?"
I recite his number haltingly, each breath incredibly painful to take. It feels as if there's a steel rod shoved up my abdomen, running parallel to my spine, and stabbing me in the throat.
"Who is he?" Jeff asks. "Is it your dad?"
I shake my head blearily. I'm freezing. I can't think past any particular… question…
"Hey, it's okay, kid," Jeff reaches over to pat my shoulder. I flinch.
"Hurts there too, huh?" he asks.
"They were… dislocated," I reply.
"What the hell?" Jeff replies. "And they're not now?"
"It's ringing," Brian waves a hand at Jeff to make him shut up.
"This is Happy Hogan speaking, and how did you get this number?" says Happy confusedly.
"Hello - uh - sir," Brian says awkwardly. "My name is Brian McGovern, I'm a paramedic in Manhattan. I, uh, have a patient here that asked me to call you -"
"Who?" Happy asks sharply.
"I don't know his name, uh, sir, but it's Spider-Man. THE Spider-Man?"
"Why isn't he calling me? What's wrong with him?"
"He's been, uh, very - very badly injured, sir. Are you a parent? Or a guardian?"
"I'm worse," Happy growls. "I'm his handler." There's a strange clicking sound. "I'm sure you know I am tracing this call right now - " there's muffled voices in the background, as if he's shouting orders at god-knows-who and using some sort of high tech to pinpoint our location.
"Sure - okay," Brian says unsurely. "I was going to tell you we're at the corner of..."
"Don't bother. It's done. We have your location. Talk to me. What are the extent of his injuries?"
"Multiple lacerations and stab wounds - broken bones - collapsed lung..."
"Oh shit. Damnit, damnit, damnit," I can hear Happy try to curse away from the phone. Still rings clearly. "Is he - how critical are we, here? Is he going to make it?"
"I'm going to go for very - very critical," Brian says. "Deadly injuries if not for - uh - perhaps super-human or enhanced abilities at work here. He is dangerously injured at this juncture. If you are his legal guardian, I would like to call for an ambulance, sir..."
"I must advise against that," Happy replies. "We'll take care of him here."
"Here?" Jeff mouths confusedly, unrolling a IV line and a bag of fluid. "Where's HERE?"
"How do we get him to you, sir?" Brian rolls with it, giving Jeff a shrug.
"We're coming to you. Sit tight. Can you tell me what happened to him?"
Brian looks to Jeff for an explanation.
"You heard what I heard. He said he 'escaped'," Jeff shrugs. "Who the hell would do this... Jesus."
"Is he conscious? Can he talk?" Happy asks urgently.
Brian looks down at me hesitantly.
I nod. "I want to." I use my right hand to try and push the oxygen mask off the rest of the way, Brian slowly pulls it up and over my head, eyes huge.
"How are you talking?" Jeff questions, but a sharp glance from Brian shuts him up. "I'm sticking this IV in your arm now," he whispers, apologetically. "You'll start feeling better really soon."
"I think he's okay to talk for a minute," Brian says.
"Put him on," Happy commands.
Brian holds the phone up to my ear, careful not to touch any of the bruises on the side of my head from one too many punches.
"H-hey Happy," I say, my voice breaking.
"Jesus Christ, kiddo. You're going to be okay. Okay? We're nearly there."
"Uh huh."
"What happened?"
"Long..." deep breath. "...story." Maybe my lung fixed itself. Can it do that?
"We'll be there in... about one minute. We'll bring you back here."
"Here?"
"The complex. Got a whole med team here."
"O...kay." I see a tiny speck of light in the far distance - like a falling star - and get distracted.
"You hurt pretty bad?" Happy asks, even though he knows. As if he somehow needs me to tell him the paramedic isn't just pulling his leg.
"Y-yeah," I moan slightly. "Pretty bad."
"What happened? Short version."
"Uh… shot down... put in a car... tied up... for … a few hours. Got away." It's hard to try and summarize in a few words. Either I sound like I'm making it worse than it is, or I'm making light of it. "He... uh... wanted... information."
Brian's eyes light up in realization. I think part of him believed escaped was from a fight with some criminals, maybe a crime I interrupted. He puts two and two together, and tugs the phone back briefly. "Sir," he says, "McGovern, again, here. I believe Spider-Dude- Man," he corrects quickly, shooting a glare at Jeff. "He was tortured, for a long time, I think. What's your ETA?"
"Soon, nearly there - put him back on - please - just for another second," Happy sounds flustered, as usual, but worried beyond even his capacity.
Brian returns the phone to my ear.
"Who was it?" Happy asks.
"I don't... know," I say. They'll have everything from Karen when she's back online, anyway. There's no reason for me to try and explain it now, especially if she was correct about still having footage data. They would know soon enough.
"Happy… I need… aunt…" I bite back her name at the last second. As much as I am trusting Jeff and Brian right now, the less they know, the better. I won't risk revealing who May is - in turn - risk revealing myself. Even by proxy. These were good guys - but if someone like this whackjob got to them, they'd be goners. They didn't have super-fast-healing-powers resetting their systems every few hours and keeping deadly injuries from being just that.
"Please call my aunt," I whisper brokenly, tears streaming down my face again. Even now - when I'm alive, and here, and rescued… I still feel frightened.
Like fate would see me get to a safe place, only to die there, instead of captivity. A taste of freedom before I lose it entirely.
"We'll get you first. Then her. I promise." Happy swears. "Is your AI disconnected?"
"Electro...magnetic..." I mumble. Whatever is in the IV is lessening the pain. Probably morphine or something. Either way it's making me all woozy… My ears fill with a distant roaring sound, sort of line an approaching sports car. "Karen sorta died… Like a big… flash bang…"
Brian pulls the phone back. "Sir," he says, "Spider-Man's drifting off a bit. We finally got some pain meds into his system. Can we expect that - uh - this transport you're arranging - will it be adequate to make sure my patient here doesn't die of blood loss and…"
The roaring isn't just in my head, it's everywhere now. Not so much a roar as it is an engine sound - growing higher pitched as it approaches. The light in the sky suddenly zooms around a distant skyscraper, black against the dark purple horizon. Definitely not a shooting star, unless they follow flight plans and have their own AI...
"What the hell?" Jeff gasps "Is that Iron Man?"
"Uh - sir," Brian says, "If - if you've somehow - sent Iron Man to come collect him - I will strongly advise...no," his brow furrows and he frowns heavily. "I absolutely forbid you from taking my patient up in the sky like a fucking rag doll and exposing him to the cold air like that - he'd be dead when he arrives, I guaran-effing-tee." He pins the phone to his chest and looks at Jeff. "I'm calling it," he barks. "These guys must be IDIOTS. Call a bus."
Jeff's eyes are wide. "For real?"
"No, no! NOT for 'real'!" Happy's voice echoes right back, though slightly muffled. "Wait just a goddamn second! We have the best medical team in the - He's in far better hands than he would be anywhere else - Hello? Can you hear me? HELLO! DAMNIT!"
The sound of machinery grows louder, and Iron-Man descends over the street. The power of the thrusters in the legs and arms shorten, extend, and shorten again in bursts of light and the sounds of power-torches as they calculate landing in just the right spot - immediately next to us, on the street.
The Iron suit stops, the glow behind the eyes looking robotically dead and intimidating with that slightly angry slant. It's not an ordinary suit. It's mostly silver, with white bands on either arms with a red cross on either shoulder. The blue emblem on the chest looks familiar, like a coat of arms from some old-school pub.
I expect an angry Tony Stark voice to emerge any minute - only it doesn't.
"What exactly am I looking at right now?" Brian asks, bringing the phone back to his ear. "That's… not Iron-Man."
"It's a prototype medsuit," Happy says on the phone. "Just do exactly what it says. It's the safest ambulance you'll never see again."
The suit hisses like a train with steam and begins to unlace itself at the chest, abdomen, and in the seams of the legs and the arms, opening itself to reveal - no one at all. A few dragfins and flaps emerge from the shoulders and legs, condensing in shape like a transformer until the Iron-Man suit itself is shaped more like… a coffin than a person. It's eerie.
A male A.I. voice comes from the mouth.
"Put him in," it says.
Jeff and Brian stare at the medsuit in shock.
"I strongly advise against this," Brian says in a monotone into the phone, not taking his gaze off of the suit.
"I strongly advise not keeping it waiting," Happy intones.
"It's okay," I mutter, trying to push myself up on one elbow. "This… stuff… happens… all th' time."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Brian says quickly, shoving one hand underneath my shoulder to give me some stability. "You - don't need - to go anywhere."
"Hey!" begins Happy.
"Yet," amends Brian. "Jesus. Can you - I don't know - like - make the thing lie down? The kid can't even stand!"
The medsuit contracts and lowers backwards to the ground, making whirring and metallic sounds like Optimus Prime. Jeff is staring at it like he may never fully recover.
"Tell the kid I'll see him soon, I'm going to track down his aunt," Happy says.
"He says he's going to find your aunt," Brian repeats back to me. "And he'll see you soon."
I nod. "O-okay."
"I guess we help him into that," says Jeff.
"You're going to need a new career," Brian snaps.
"I know," bemoans Jeff, standing up and brushing himself off. "Even if no one finds out about this, I'm fired. Or I quit! I don't know! Let's do this."
"Anyone coming?" Brian asks.
Jeff peers down the street. The lights of the emergency vehicles flash, yellow, red and blue, splaying against the sides of the buildings like disco lights. But they're all back behind the police barrier around the corner of the nearest building.
"Nope," he replies.
"Okay," Brian says. "I gotta put the phone down, now, sir."
"I've got a line in the suit," Happy responds. "Do what you need to. And be quick about it, please, and thank you."
Brian sets his phone down and grasps the side of the tarp beneath me. Jeff grabs the other side.
"One, two, three!"
They hoist me up; not too gently, but fast enough. I'm lying inside the hollow suit before I've even had a chance to notice. Whatever is in the IV is definitely working.
"Ow," I mumble. But I don't remember feeling the thump of being placed inside, but reacted nevertheless. Everything is turning gray around me.
I feel like I'm forgetting their names, sliding in and out of the present, forgetting that I spoke to Happy, wondering why I'm in an Iron-Man suit.
"Godspeed, I guess," Jeff says somewhat worriedly, tucking the IV down by my leg. "I am assuming this thing'll… uh… close up like a rocket and transfer you all safe and sound to some hidden base for enhanced gifted peeps with cool powers and…stuff."
"Uh huh," I mumble. "Pro'bly."
My arms don't go into the arm-shapes of the medsuit like they would on a real Iron suit. They remain at my sides, these suit-arms are primarily for steering, not for potentially placing broken limbs. Same with the legs - they only look leg-shaped, but they're sealed together like a sleeping bag, allowing me to stretch out inside. With a whir, they actually withdraw slightly to make up for the height difference. At least I won't be sliding up and down inside while the suit is going at rocket speed. But that doesn't make me comfortable. I feels like sitting in a desk at school.
"Take care of yourself," Brian says stoically, frowning heavily. "If you - uh - if you get jostled around too much in there and start bleeding again, you'll probably lose consciousness… you'll get to where-ever and probably get rushed into surgery. They'll fix up anything damaged by that stab wound in your side, here. Probably getchya a transfusion - you know - from the blood loss… and… well, it's out of our hands now. Just so you… feel prepared." He suddenly looks away and clears his throat. "Be good, kid."
"Th-thanks for helping me," I say nervously. I can hear it in his voice. He thinks this is a bad idea. He hates the idea of sending someone he's helping into a prototype invention that will go skyrocketing at top speeds towards a place that is not a hospital.
"You're welcome," he replies, emotionally. He taps the side of the medsuit.
Jeff nods at me. "Kick ass, lil guy," he says, followed by a gesture at his forehead like he's pulling down the edge of a non existent cap.
"Preparing transport," says the AI voice again, a masculine, robotic tone that sounds like an odd sort of mix of Vision, Mr. Stark, and someone whose nose is getting pinched.
Jeff and Brian both scramble back. Jeff is wringing his hands, looking back and forth from me to Brian. Brian looks upset still, an inner debate raging in his head that I couldn't possibly guess. I don't know much about paramedics… but I am guessing this breaks every rule in the book.
Then the medsuit makes a hydraulic whoosh sound and shuts, sealing me up inside like a tomb with legs.
"Hear me okay, kid?" Happy's voice is somewhere in the pitch black. "I got a doctor waiting there for ya. He's going to take over this channel in a second. I'm on my way to get your aunt. Shouldn't take too long, we'll be there soon."
I can feel the suit move around me, the sounds of the thrusters activating and a strange warmth coming from the feet. I have no idea what it looks like from the outside - still coffin shaped? Or do I look like Rhodes volunteering for the Red Cross?
"Ya hear me?" he repeats.
"Uh huh," I shudder with uncertainty. "A-a-any chance we could get some l-l-ight in here?"
"Initiating emergency interior control," the AI answers creepily.
Much like the AI in my spider suit… when it's working… there's a screen where my eyeline should be, showing me the outside, but with animated graphics in 3D showing me things I don't really care about; like how the suit is pumped with the same sort of oxygen from a normal mask to help me breathe… my vitals and temperature... a percentage of how likely my chances are at surviving the flight…
Wait, what?
PPPPWWWOOOOOOOOSHHHHHBBBBTTTTTTTT…
The suit takes off.
Like being in a roller coaster with your eyes shut, the speed feels incredible - I just can't - see it. The suit does little to quiet the wind rushing by, as loud as being on the back of a motorcycle.
The percentage disappears before I really have a chance to look at it. A lot of things are clicking, changing, and moving from eyeline to peripheral vision and then disappearing. It's making me sick. On the plus side, though, there are tiny lights, like the dashboard of a car. At least it's not nothing.
"Well - this is," I struggle to find the right words. My ears are ringing a little. "...weird."
"Okay - putting the doc on, now, okay?" Happy says. "I promise. We're going to take care of you."
I think I remember speaking with the doctor - at least, a voice comes through the speaker that isn't the AI, and I think I respond. I forget it almost instantly.
And then, silence. Am I alone?
"How… long…?" I struggle to stay awake long enough to hear an answer.
"We are three minutes from our destination," says the AI.
The suit banks a hard left, and despite the fact I am completely compacted inside with no room to wriggle around, the speed of the movement jolts me in all the wrong places. I let out a surprised cry of pain, followed by a long groan.
"What's that?" Happy's voice comes back. "What happened? What's wrong?"
"Shit," I say, trying to shift slightly. There's not a lot of room to do anything, but I am able to lift my arm slightly and touch my side. I'm bleeding again, like Brian thought I might. "Shit - I'm just - I don't know, Happy," I say this childishly, as if he asked who really ate the last cookie, and I stand nearby with crumbs in my hands. "I'm bleeding again."
"Okay," Happy says calmly. "You're going to be okay."
"If I pass out again…" I try to explain. "That's too many times - in one night - Happy... "
My voice trails off just shy of asking what happens if I never wake up from this one. "Can you tell - the thing - to take - it slow?"
"Not really an option, kid," Happy says. "We have medical personnel here."
It's hard to concentrate in the darkness I am submerged in, the colors of the panels blinking out and disappearing on me, then returning and feeling too bright. It's not the suit, though, it's me. My brain is firing up all kinds of wrong signals.
"You're almost here," Happy encourages. "Just hang on."
"Your blood pressure is far below the recommended average," says the AI.
Enough blows to the head and this happens. I check out - mentally, physically. Due to whatever is in the IV, I don't know that I'll remember much of this. I am barely remembering it now - I struggle to remember even getting in. I don't remember how long I've been in it. Brian and Jeff are shadows; voices that brought me out of one hell and then deposited me into something a little less hellish but still not going into a top five. Faces I remembered clearly one minute ago begin to deteriorate.
I don't know what's happening to me. There's too much lightheadedness. The panels glow icy blue and my head feels as if it is swelling like a balloon. There's a sort of body odor I can smell now - my own - a mix of sweating so much while being tortured, and the fresh blood soaking through the gauze on my chest and side. It makes me severely nauseous, and out of it.
I might be unconscious.
...
...
...
Thank you so so much for your kind reviews! Having your feedback means the world to me :) I hate ending chapters with a POV suddenly going unconscious, but I regret it is a habit I have been unable to break, haha! But at least Peter is alive, right? RIGHT?
Love you guys!
...
Coming Up Next:
Peter jets off to the Avenger's complex like a sardine in a tin. A nearly dead, very upset sardine. But help awaits.