Spider-Man. The House Of Venom

Come back to bed, honey.'

As he looked over the tall and curvy blonde supermodel let the sheet slip down from her chest. In front of him were two of the largest.

Tony woke with a start. The incredible ache in his chest burned and he wheezed trying to draw a deeper breath than the pain would let him. Trying to sit up he realised he had been strapped to the gurney he was on.

“No, my friend, do not move. The surgery was a success but you must rest now. They have given us much food to help, even water.” The brown-skinned man, grime and sweat covering his face said.

He smiled though as he looked through a wooden crate that Tony could just barely make out over the side of the bed. As he found what he was looking for, he moved to Tony and began examining the bandages around his chest.

As he looked around in a panic he realised he was in a dirty, stinking brown walled room. Boxes and other junk littered the walls and a bare electric bulb hung from loose wires in the ceiling. The air was thick with humidity and the smell of blood and seared flesh,

His flesh. Was I in surgery? He thought.

Looking down he saw the wires coming out of his chest, and as he moved to touch one the man slapped his hand.

“No no no. In the explosion, you suffered a grievous injury. There is shrapnel being pulled to your heart by arterial pressure. I used a small electromagnet to keep them away,” he pointed to a car battery by Tony's side. “It is powering the device, it should keep you alive, well, for now anyway. Here, drink. You will need your strength soon enough." The man handed him a cold cup of something, soup, thin and bitter but to Tony, it was the finest broth he had ever tasted. "Dr Ho Yinsen. I am afraid I did the best I could under the circumstances." He finished examining the bandages, "but it is still very fine work and of course, I already know who you are, Mr Stark."

As Tony watched him he realised he was in some sort of cave, not a hospital. Flies buzzed around a chamber pot in the corner and torn-open boxes littered the floor. They were all the cases from Stark Tech he had brought with him.

Don't remember bringing that many, he thought through the haze of whatever he had been dosed with. As he lifted his hand and waved it in front of his face, heroin. The Middle East still.

He watched while the kind-looking man, thin with wire-framed glasses, worked. He would pick something up. Lift his glasses to peer at it and either shake his head and put it back, or nod and added it to a pile on a workbench.

A flood of memories came back to him, the tour, the soldiers, and finally the explosion.

“I am sorry, none of the men survived and ah, our hosts wish for you to make them something.”

Another middle eastern looking man came in and spoke. He was bald and carrying an assault rifle. His face was not one of kindness or understanding.

“Alive? Good. You will stay that way as soon as you build us those,” and he pointed to a  box. The lid had been pried open and half-assembled Jericho missiles were inside. “Fail and die.”

A sudden sense of terror filled Tony. This wasn't a random terrorist act, he had been targeted by these men to build the rockets for them. It was his own hubris that had cost the brave men and women of his convoy their lives. He had wanted to show off just how effective his tech was at killing and he had made a joke of it. In the end, it had been his own weapons used to attack the convoy and kill those soldiers. As he raised a hand to cover his eyes, he felt the trickle of tears as the reality of his situation hit home.

This was his fault. Not just the convoy but the weapons. He had never considered that the weapons he built would be used on Americans, on him. As he lay, all he could feel was the pain in his chest, a tingle as the magnet thrummed, and the guilt of the lives he had ruined.

He made a vow. If, no, once he made it home, things would change. He would change.

⁂

It had been four months since that conversation. On the workbench was an empty husk. A simple missile casing that they had fabricated from unable scrap. The ruse.

The real project lay under a thick tarpaulin. As Tony looked at the hulking armoured suit, his ‘Iron Man,’ he knew it was time to escape.

As they escaped through the compound, they encountered the forces that held them. Fighting off wave after wave of terrorists, Tony felt a small measure of peace. These men had gotten what they deserved, even if it was death. His only regret was underestimating their number.

As he saw a large group ready to swarm them Ho shouted, grabbed a gun and ran, yelling at them.

"Go, Now!" Ho yelled at him and slammed a huge metal door behind him. Tony heard the gunfire and then screams before the men who survived started to pound on the door. Tony fired the makeshift flamethrower at the door. He could hear the screams of the men as the metal became superheated. It was enough to hold them off.

Ho's sacrifice allowed Tony to escape. As he thudded down the last corridor, he had tears in his eyes. Tony made a vow to return later, once he was recovered and take revenge for the man. Dr Ho Yinsen had sacrificed himself. The men and women of the convoy had sacrificed themselves, and Tony vowed that there would be no more.

The suit had used up the fuel from the Jericho missiles and flown him as far away from the compound as possible. With no guidance systems or even a simple compass, he had no idea where in the world he was, or how far he had travelled.

It had all been rough guesswork, sketched out in secret. As he lay, sweating under the scorching desert sun, he fought back tears. The calculations had been for two.

It was another week before he was rescued. He had walked as far as he could, carrying a small supply of water and a few protein bars. As they ran out, so did his endurance. Tony was a playboy, not an athlete, and even he would admit he never got very far before collapsing.

A passing caravan of camel herders spotted him, lying nearly dead in the sand. He had been brought to a small village where he got a phone. An army convoy was there within the hour. His best and really only friend James Rhodes personally came to rescue him. He broke down as he saw the flags flapping on the armoured truck, “I can go home, I can go home,” he repeated over and over as he wept.

⁂

On the plane ride over he was brought up to speed on everything. His makeshift implant was given a once over and hooked up to a much more reliable power source. The doctor cleaned and checked the wound, tutting as he worked.

Tony was given several booster shots and then hooked up to an IV. A long list of medicine was handed to Pepper, who stared at his unshaven and gaunt face. He had wanted to eat but was only allowed to eat foul-tasting nutrient paste for the first day. His body was starving, injured and dehydrated. It would be a long process to recover but Tony didn't have time. He had a suit to rebuild, and a plan of attack to formulate.

There was more footage of Spider-Man, and Venom, but his leads of Black Cat had petered out. She had vanished, even to Jarvis. His hands clenched into fists as he watched the Easter Day Massacre. He had once had great respect for Osborn. While Tony knew he was smarter, it didn't mean Osborn was any less competent.

The man was clearly insane but he had the right idea. A self-contained armoured suit had just saved his life and he felt that it would again. He wanted to show the public that it wasn't the machines of war that made them dangerous. It was the people that used them. That a shining beacon could be brought forth that made the world a better place.

Weapons manufacturing was needed, armies over the world needed Stark-Tech weapons to survive. He just needed something that the little guy could use as well. He needed to show the world that power could be anyones.

hmm, power, he slid back in his chair and rate another packet of apple jelly. He had cobbled together a makeshift arc reactor using the engines of the Jericho missiles. It was inefficient but still, a beacon huh?

“Jarvis. Get me schematics on the Goblin armour. Find if there are any patents held by Oscorp, buy them and move them to my secure server.” As he ate another packet of paste, "Oh and move all the research on the arc reactor over as well. Kill it on the Stark servers. I want unrestricted access to everything and anything but it is now a black box project."

Tony closed his eyes and began to plan.

⁂

It wasn’t until the betrayal of his mentor that Tony realised just how the greed of men affected the world.

"A new world order is coming Tony," Obadiah yelled from his Ironmonger suit. The fight had been brutal and its helmet was somewhere on the roof of the Stark museum. It didn't matter, Obadiah didn't need it o kill the last hurdle in his plan. "Now, be a good boy and die, just like Howard."

Tony saw the smirk as Obadiah raised his arm. Tony had already messed with the targeting system and even if Obadiah was a crack shot he could miss. But the comment about his father hurt. Tony might have hated the man, but he still missed him. Pointing his own badly damaged repulsor at the centre of Ironmonger's chest he fired.

It whined and career off into the clouds, streaking into the raining New York clouds.

Obadiah laughed, "Always were a useless son of a bitch, Tony."

Tony shrugged, wincing as the broken collarbone shot pain through him. "Yeah, and you always skipped the science part."

People always thought lightning struck from the clouds down. It actually was two trails of energised particles. One travelling down from the clouds, and the other up from the ground. Just like the ones his repulsor just left.

Obadiah screamed as the lightning hit him. Smoke wafted from his cooked flesh as his white eyes stared emptily at Tony.

With the remaining strength he had, Tony simply pushed him backwards. The huge suit toppled down into the prototype reactor below.

The arc reactor powering the Ironmonger suit was Tony's mark two. Unstable and imperfect, and as the two energies met, there was a huge explosion. One big enough to draw not just the civilian authorities but the military as well.

Tony lay on the roof, panting, and happy to be alive. Until Pepper's cracking voice came over his radio.

"I'll deal with this Tony. But You Owe Me," each word was punctuated clearly. Tony shivered slightly. He would rather face Ironminger again than an angry Pepper Potts.

⁂

The announcement wasn't too hard to guess. An armoured man had been spotted flying over New York. It wasn't the green and silver of Goblin though. No, this was a bright red and gold. It didn't stop the fear of a new Goblin rising but Tony worked on his PR and made sure everyone knew he was a good guy.

He stopped an armoured truck robbery. He visited the Middle East and took out the remains of the Ten Rings that captured him. He waved and took pictures with wary but accepting fans. He stopped child slavery rings in Sudan. He made sure he was an at-home hero as well as an international figure.

Jarvis dealt with any intrusive attempts to discover who exactly Iron Man was. It wasn't until Pepper found him in bed with a model, some rich socialite who paraded around in her own designs. Then he remembered the wrath of Pepper.

Within twenty-four hours, the press conference had been called.

⁂

The warehouse watched as Tony Stark held his press conference. He fielded questions about the bright light over New York. The appearance of the armoured hero Iron Man and whether or not they were connected to the Goblin.

“Look, Iron Man isn't some whack job like Osborn. I mean, that guy was into some heavy medical research that got a lot of good people killed, Iron Man, right? Yeah, Iron Man. He went to the Middle East and saved a bunch of people. The explosion was Jebediah messing with my dad's old reactor, Iron Man had nothing to do with that.”

Tony knew lying was part of the job, but outing Jebadiah would only crush Stark Industries. With the government already sniffing around, he didn't want to give them an excuse to seize his suits.

“What's that? Am I Iron Man?” Tony smirked and shook his head. He could see Pepper talking to a serious-looking man in a well-tailored suit. As their eyes met he gave her a small grin and hers went wide, shaking her head and mouthing 'no' at him.

“You know, I've got a lot of cards here. Cards that tell me what to do. What to say. Answers to all the pre-prepared questions you have. All nicely vetted so I don't get too emotional on camera.” The cameras caught Pepper swiping her hand over her throat, letting Tony know to shut up.

“But yeah, I am Iron Man.”

⁂

Peter turned off the TV and the group stared, "So, Iron Man huh?" he said and Liv shrugged,

"I doubt the armour is anything special. It's probably ripped off Goblin tech." She sniffed dismissively. Peter knew she was annoyed Tony was hogging the glory that by rights should have been hers. The Goblin armour was her design, even if Norman bastardised it. "At least without that stupid formula running through his veins, Tony Stark isn't a danger. He'll probably just use it to show off."

Peter nodded. Growing up Tony Stark had been his idol. He was rich, handsome and most of all brilliant. Any schematic or blueprint of his Peter could get his hands on he had. Even delving into the dark web to find stolen or discarded Stark-Tech. He had several half-repaired devices. All pulled from supposedly secure Stark technology destruction facilities.

If he had to be honest, seeing Iron Man filled him with two emotions. One. That he didn't want to ever have to fight him. Two. He was kinda jealous that Stark could just build a suit and go flying in it. It seemed the rich did play by their own rules and Stark was no exception.

"But," Liv added, "if a certain young man is incredibly nice to me, I might be persuaded to build him his very own flight suit.”