Jumanji -2-

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Peter involuntarily snapped his head towards what had to be Clint, he knew Tony would never assume something like that from him. The man sitting below him did the same, seemingly startled and knowing at the same time.

"Clint?" Peter called out, a little aprehensive. But his voice was echoed, causing Peter to look down, becoming face to face with the man again.

"Wait- Pete?"

"Mr Stark?"

There seemed to be a trend with the duo saying things at the same time. Peter started at the strangely dressed man, he didn't look like Mr Stark at all. But no one called him Pete that he knew, Peter always made sure of it. The abbreviation was specially reserved for his mentor, and nobody else.

Heavy breaths and gasping suddenly thundered down the necks of the father and son. They swiveled their heads, only to stumble back in shock. There, bending with hands on knees, was a giant punk-like turtle, with fiery red hair and spikes designed around the wrists, neck, ankles and shell. The nose of the overgrown animal was protruding from its face, and every time it's mouth opened, rows of crystal white yet jagged teeth snarled back at your gaze.

"Hang on," the monster choked out with a finger held in the air. Peter and Tony shared a look of dread for whatever was going to happen next. "Gimme a sec, real quick. I feel so much heavier, gotta catch my breath. Wow. . . Hey, did my legs get shorter?"

Then, as if this entire situation was a jigsaw puzzle, Peter had metaphorically placed the last piece into its destined place, revealing the image. He had solved the puzzle.

"Oh my god," he whispered. Rapidly switching his view from who he now knew as his mentor, and the weird, graveling voiced turtle, to his own hands and feet. "I think we're in the game."

"What the hell are you talking about, kid?" Tony replied, eyeing the creature as if warily waiting for any signs of imminent danger. "Stop babbling and get behind me."

"Oh please, you're wearing heels with a tiara, you're not that terrifying," the monster infront of them grinned, causing a flinch to be inflicted on the two as they caught site of the baring teeth.

"Hey, Miss Pepper or Miss Natasha could put on any piece of jewelry they wanted and still be the most scariest women I've ever met." Peter all but protested, crossing his arms with sass.

"True, true," the thing (Ben) agreed with a chuckle. "So Pete, Tony, how do you think we're gonna get out of here?"

"What? I'm missing something," Tony pulled himself up and dusted off his dandelion yellow dress from stray grass and looked around, studying the beast that seemed to know his name.

"Well, I mean it's pretty obvious. We put the game in, suddenly we turned into the exact characters that we had chosen. Free-falling and landing in the exact same level we selected. And if you turn and face north, you can hear the Mario theme song. So, either Peter's doing another one of his weird experiments that involve a lot of drugs, or we jumanji'd into the game." The monster, or now as Peter knew; Bowser aka Clint tried to cross his arms, only to give up when they barely reached in the middle.

"Jumanji? The fu- hell is that?"

"It's a game when if played, the players get transported into the game and have to win to escape. Catch up." Peter tolled his eyes, a trait he had picked up from the many nights of being Spider-Man was being sassy when faced with stressful situations.

"Okay, okay. So, lemme get this straight," Tony went to rake his hand through his hair - his nervous habit when in stressful situations, but stopped as his fingers collided with the firm tiara pushed into his long auburn locks. "We're in a dodgy video game, and we have to win to get out?"

"I hope so," Peter pulled a lazy hand over his face, the unfamiliar features feeling foreign under his skin. "Otherwise, I have no idea how to get out of here."

"So how do we win?" Tony reached up and put his arm around Peter's shoulder, the taller man uncharacteristically looming over the smaller boy.

"I guess we just get our karts and win the cup?" Peter's eyes travelled towards three brightly colored karts, one green with a yellow pattern, one green with a large 'L' and one yellow with the trademark orange daisy on the bonnet. "We should probably stay in teams, just incase. Dibs red team."

"Let's just get this over with so I can take off these annoying heels."

-.-

Sitting in 12th place, Peter nervously gripped the steering wheel. Tony and Clint were calmly feeded him messages of encouragement and advice, because playing the game and being in the game would apparently be different. He let out a ragged breath as he tried not to inhale smoke coming from the not very eco friendly karts infront of him.

"Kiddo, I'll stay with you, okay?" Tony turned to look at him, and Peter still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that beneath all of the looks and hair extensions was his surrogate father, and he couldn't really take him that seriously as he would have done. It didn't help that Clint was constantly ridiculing Tony for the poor character choice- to which Tony would adamantly exclaim that he'd rather look somewhat like his wife than an emo mutant turtle.

"No, Mr Stark," Peter interjected, shaking his head at the Italian accent that he was only used to hearing from his uncle. "We're in teams, remember? You are really good at this kind of stuff so you go ahead and try to win it for all of us, 'kay?"

Tony hesitantly nodded before putting the gearshift into drive, revving the engine at each high pitched beep, in order to get the speed boost that Peter told him about. He noticed how Clint and Peter had both did the same, and grinned when they all flew past the others - who had either smoked their engines or began slowly. Difficulty: easy. Hopefully.

Tony expertly weaved his way through the obstacles, staying on course the entire time. He drifted around the bends of the road and accelerated past many bumps, the control he had on his car was truly professional, like he had been waiting for this moment for his entire life. He kept up a constant conversation with Peter, instructing him when to change gears and how to turn right to go left. (If you know you know).

Clint wasn't doing too bad, but he obviously wasn't as skilled as Tony. He kept up a steady third place, bumper to bumper with Yoshi in front.

Peter wasn't too very well. At all. Despite his speed boost, he just couldn't manage to budge out of eighth place. But there was one thing that the other two experts hadn't thought about: power ups. While the other two avoided the rainbow soaked question boxes thinking they were more obstacles, Peter headed straight for them, crashing through and watching the dial on his dashboard spin, stopping at one of his favorite power ups; the jet black rocket.

As soon as he confirmed it, he felt his neck suddenly snap to his headrest, the air rushing past him with such gusto that he could hardly manage to close his mouth.   He grinned as he watched other cars blow behind him, bringing him up to a clear forth place. He swerved passed a green shell, an adorable grin plastered over his face, enjoying himself despite the life changing position they're in.





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