A/N: Here's the next chapter! Thank you to all who reviewed, favorited, and followed!

WARNING: Rating may go up.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! I make no profit off of this. This is solely for my enjoyment and hopefully for the enjoyment of others! ;)

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The first thing Peter became aware of when he woke was the faint smell of mildew and the acrid scent of ammonia. He groaned softly at the dull throbbing in his head and slowly blinked open his eyes.

He appeared to be in a cell of some sort. The walls and floor were both made of unembellished grey cement. The only things that broke the monotony of the room were the small toilet on the other side of the room with a little privacy shield, the ratty cot on the floor on which Peter sat, and the minuscule security camera that was directed right at his bed.

The entire front wall of the cell was made of thick iron bars, stretching from floor to ceiling, allowing Peter to see out into the hallway. There were two other cells a little ways either direction from Peter's, but he couldn't see if anyone was inside from his position on the cot.

Voices floated down the corridor, some laughing, some crying, one yelling. Peter felt his heartbeat began to pick up.

Where the hell was he?

With a grunt, he pushed himself up off the bed, the effects of whatever George had injected him with lingering a little. His sudden movement caused a weight to shift off his lap and drop to his sides with an unsettling clanging sound.

He lifted his wrists and found them both encircled by heavy metal cuffs, the chains feeding back into the wall behind him. Peter inhaled deeply, grabbed a handful of the links, and gave a sharp tug. Neither budged. He pulled again, harder this time. Again, the metal didn't move.

The teen released a shaky breath and let his hands fall back to his sides, chains rattling as they dropped. He shook his head and mentally filed that away under things to figure out later.

As he stepped towards the door, a thought struck him. He quickly glanced back down at his hands. His hands that were still gloved in red.

He still had the suit.

Upon closer inspection of his wrists, he could see that his web shooters had been pried off. But no matter, he still had the suit.

Peter's hands flew up to his face and he could've laughed outright as he felt the fabric still covering his visage. How dumb were these people?

Not only had they left on his mask so his identity was still a secret, but right before he'd been taken, Karen had sent out a distress signal to someone. Who she'd sent it to, Peter didn't know, but he could probably guess.

God, his captors were going to feel so dumb when Tony Stark showed up and kicked their asses.

But wait a second.

Something about that wasn't right.

Had Karen actually sent the distress signal? She'd never actually finished her statement. She said that she was going to do it, but she didn't say that she had done it.

Peter shook his head slightly. No. Karen had sent it. Mr. Stark would come looking for him.

He jolted slightly as the length of his chains attached to his arms ran out, only allowing him to go halfway to the door. He leaned his weight onto the front of his toes, straining to see out into the hallway. Unfortunately, this vantage point wasn't much better than the last.

"Karen?" He whispered, hoping that, by some miracle, his AI had returned. What could have killed his suit like that? Mr. Stark's technology was some of the best stuff out there and for it to be taken down so easily in some back alley where Peter had been attacked by a literally six year was kinda scary to think about.

Silence met his timorous call. Peter signed softly and distributed his weight evenly on his feet again, relieving the pressure on his shoulders and wrists.

He made his way back over the cot and dropped down onto it, facing the door. There wasn't anything else to do but wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

Not five minutes after he sat down, three figures appeared at the door to his cell. Two of the faces are unfamiliar, but the one in the front had Peter jumping to his feet and pointing an accusing finger at the man's chest.

"You!" He shouts, astonishment leaking into his voice as the man unlocks the door.

It was the green-haired man from the street that Peter had been following, that one that had seemingly melted into the shadows of the alleyway. He grinned toothily as he swung open the heavy door, shoving his hands in his pockets as he swaggered in.

The man's spiky green hair was gelled to attention over a set of thick, dark eyebrows, one of which was set with a gleaming silver ring. He swiped a finger under his nose quickly and Peter saw that the man's entire right arm was covered in colorful tattoos. Of what, the teen couldn't quite make out.

He was dressed plainly: jeans, a t-shirt, and pair of blue and yellow sneakers.

"Me," said Greenie, as Peter had mentally dubbed him. "You know, you woke up a lot quicker than we was expecting," he said in a Southern twang, quirking an eyebrow at Peter, toothy grin still firmly in place.

"Yeah well, what'd you expect? You guys gave me the crappiest mattress on the face of the planet. Would you sleep for a long time if you had that?" Peter bit out.

Greenie's lips closed around his teeth, but his smile didn't disappear. "Let me introduce you to my boys," he said with a grand sweep of his arm at the two men standing behind him. "That's Cabbage."

He pointed at a man about three times Peter's size with a body built like a tank and about twelve face tattoos. "We call him Cabbage because…well it doesn't really matter why," Greenie said with a wave of his hand. "Anyways, that's Jason–" He pointed at the second guy who Peter assumed had been abducted from an insurance firm somewhere. He looked like your average cookie cutter dad who worked a 9-5 and drank a beer in front of the tv every night.

"We call him Jason cause that's his name." Greenie clapped his hands together. "Now!"

Peter flinched slightly at the sudden raised tone and switched his gaze back to the man who was talking.

"What about you, little Spider?" Greenie said, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. "What's your name?"

Peter swallowed heavily. "What do you want?" He asked, evading the question.

Greenie pursed his lips, cocking his head slightly. "What do I want? What do I want? What do I want?" He muttered quickly. "What do we want, boys?" He twisted his torso slightly to ask the two men standing behind him.

"We want to win." It was Cabbage who spoke, his voice deep and flat.

The leader of the group smiled and nodded at the statement. "I agree. We want to win," he repeated, turning back to face the teenager. "Ever heard of The Pitbulls, Spidey?"

Peter hesitated before he shook his head slowly.

"No? 'Kay, well originally The Pitbulls were a wrestling team. Long story short: they kinda sucked. So when they disbanded, the name was up for grabs. The Pitbulls is the name of our team now."

"So…what? You're a wrestling team? What's that got to do with me?" Peter asked, confusion scrawled across his face underneath the mask.

"Hey hey!" Greenie brandished a finger at Peter. "Let me finish." When Peter stayed silent, the man continued. "Mattermind is the… underground wrestling ring, if you will. All of the Pitbulls's contestants have never made it so far as the semi-finals. But you…" Greenie slowly stalked forward, a look Peter would almost call hunger on his face. "You're going to win this for us."

Peter stepped back as the man continued to advance, only stopping as his back hit the wall. "I don't–"

"I'm only going to ask you one more time today," Greenie said, nostrils flaring slightly, "and believe you me, it would be in your best interest to answer the question. What's your name?"

Silence reigned as neither male said anything. Peter lifted his chin and pressed his lips together tightly. An unpleasant smile stretched the corners of Greenie's mouth as the silence stretched.

"Okay," he said with nod, stepping back. "Cabbage," he called over his shoulder. "You got that camera?"

Despite himself, Peter felt a flutter of anxiety ripple through his stomach as the brawny man stalked over, a digital camera held in his hand.

"Great, you'll want to be ready with that," Greenie said and, without any warning, drove his open left palm across Peter's face. The teen, wholly unprepared for the attack, gasped at the sudden sting on his cheek.

Greenie didn't give him time to recover as he quickly socked Peter in the jaw, snapping his head the other direction. He immediately followed up with punch to the gut that left the teen hunched over and gasping before he rapidly jerked his knee into the masked teen's chin.

Peter's head snapped back with so much force that it hit the wall, leaving him seeing stars for the second time that evening. He slid down the wall with a groan as Greenie stepped back, shaking out his bruised knuckles.

"You'll want to get this one, now." Peter heard before the green-haired man was suddenly crouching in front of him, one hand on top of Peter's head, the other pressed against his sternum. It registered in Peter's mind what the man was going to do a second before it happened.

"No!" He cried, hands flying up to stop Greenie, but it was too late. The man seized a handful of the mask and pulled it off with one sharp tug.

Peter blinked up at the man, panting as he tried to gauge his expression. At first it was one of triumph. Then it morphed into one of confusion before finally settling on amusement.

A giggle burst from the green-haired man's mouth as Cabbage's camera clicked away. The giggle grew into a full blown belly laugh until the man had to stand up and walk away to compose himself.

"Oh this is too much!" He choked, swiping tears of mirth from his cheeks. "Do you have any idea who I thought you'd be?" He hacked through another bought of cackles. "Oh good heavens, the way you protect your identity, I thought you'd be some famous person like Stark, or maybe an Osborn, or hell, I don't know the mayor's kid or something. But you!" He slapped his knee and howled for a good minute.

"You're nobody!" He finally managed, staring at Peter with incredulous eyes. "What the hell, kid?" He scrubbed his hands over his cheeks again, ridding them of any and all traces of wetness.

"Alright," Greenie sniffed, snatching the camera out of Cabbage's meaty hands. "Let's take a selfie right quick. I may not know who the hell you are, but we've at least gotta document all this, right?"

He squatted down on floor in front of Peter for the second time. "Smile real pretty for the camera now."

Peter did no such thing, choosing instead to glare daggers at the back of the man's head as he snapped the picture.

"Training starts in the morning, Spidey," Greenie said, hopping to his feet. "Get yourself some sleep. You're going to need it."

And with a wink, he and his two crones were gone, leaving Peter sitting on the floor, mask strewn aside, feeling way more exposed than he should.

He swiped at the blood he feel leaking from his nose thanks to that wonderful knee jerk. He let his head fall back against the wall with a sigh, Greenie's words playing back in his head.

"You're nobody!"

Maybe the man was right. Maybe he was just a nobody. Maybe Peter had been wrong in thinking that Mr. Stark would come looking for him.

Who cared about a nobody?

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