Tony absently swirled the scotch in the bottom of his glass as he listened to the man talk. Errol something or other. He hadn't really been paying close attention when he introduced himself.
Pepper would know. Pepper was always on about addressing people by name instead of whatever nickname Tony made up. But really, how was supposed to remember the name of everybody he ever interacted with? There were hundreds of employees at Stark Industries alone. And then there were the outside contractors, construction crews, government liaisons, and any number of people ready with ideas for new Stark products.
The Errol guy fell under the last category. He had come up to Tony at the last charity gala with claims of a revolutionary new fuel injection system that would improve the Quinjet's efficiency almost thirty percent.
Tony had disliked him on the spot. He reminded him way too much of Aldrich Killian. He looked like a normal, middle-aged businessman with thinning hair, but the desperate eagerness to talk about his project just seemed to echo Killian's obsession.
Pepper, of course thought he was being ridiculous. She had reminded him of all the other people's ideas Tony had brushed off that very night.
Okay, so maybe Tony wasn't good at working with others. He was trying to do better.
So when Tony had happened to run into Errol on a late-night Starbucks run, he had thought, why not? Why not just get it over with and listen to his sales pitch for an hour? Then when he decided not to work with him, he could at least tell Pepper he had given the guy the benefit of the doubt.
But Tony had only been sitting in the man's den for half an hour and he was already bored. All Errol really seemed to want to talk about were his team of scientists and their amazing work doing something with chemicals Tony really didn't care about.
Tony took another swallow of his scotch and tried to suppress a yawn.
"More scotch, Mr. Stark?" Errol asked with what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile.
"Sure," Tony said. It was good scotch, probably the only good thing about the entire meeting.
Errol smiled as he poured Tony another full glass. "I'm a martini man myself, but I agree scotch is best over business deals. My father used to measure the length of a meeting by how many glasses of scotch it took to get through it."
Tony hid a grimace around the mouth of the glass. God, this man was so insufferable. It wasn't even midnight yet and Tony was already feeling like calling it a night. He could doze off right on the sofa. It was a pretty comfortable sofa. So, maybe the second good thing about the entire meeting.
"More scotch, Mr. Stark?"
Tony blinked. "Didn't you-didn't you just?" He was a little surprised to find his glass was almost empty again.
"It's good scotch, isn't it? Goes down nice and smooth. You barely feel it."
Wow, had he actually dozed off for a second? Tony was long past feeling any shame. Some people really were that boring and he couldn't help that, no matter what Pepper said. They key was that Errol hadn't taken offense.
"I think 'm good," Tony mumbled. Maybe he had a reputation for impulsive behavior, but it was a bad idea to do any business negotiations drunk.
"Nonsense," Errol said. "The night is young and we've just gotten to the exciting part."
Oh, the exciting part, was it? Tony had seen more excitement in a graveyard.
Errol raised his own glass and took a delicate sip. "We have a long night ahead of us, like a long, slow burn. Fitting, isn't it?"
Tony took a sip and with great effort, set the glass down on the coffee table. "I really, I need to call a cab I think." Everything was starting to blur around him and there was no way he'd be able to read any of Errol's papers.
"Leaving so soon?" Errol said. "But there's so much work to be done."
"I can't." Tony rose unsteadily to his feet, clutching his head as the room swam.
Jesus. He had only had three glasses and he was already three sheets to the wind.
Errol was at his side in an instant. "I'll make sure you get home safely, Mr. Stark. But perhaps one more drink for the road."
"No, that's, I think that's a bad idea," Tony protested, but when the drink was pressed into his hands, he couldn't do much to fight it.
"That's it," Errol said as he took away the empty glass. "Feeling better now, aren't you?"
"Think I need to lie down for awhile," Tony murmured, collapsing back onto the couch.
—-
Tony woke up with a blistering headache and the desire to curl under his blankets until the horrible bright daylight was gone. But to his surprise, he found he couldn't roll over.
He pried his eyes open and sucked in a breath at the sight before him. He couldn't roll over because he was on a hospital gurney with restraints over his waist, chest, and legs and an I.V. in his left arm.
How the hell had he ended up in the hospital? He made a point of telling everyone he knew to never take him to a hospital under pain of death.
Actually, now that Tony's eyes had started to adjust, it didn't look much like a hospital. It was a big, open room and there were plenty of men in white coats looking at things under microscopes and mixing chemical concoctions at different stations.
Oh fuck, it was some kind of underground lab.
Goddamnit, Tony had known the guy was crazy like Killian. But instead of kidnapping Pepper, he had taken him. When he got out of here, he was never letting her hear the end of it.
"Good, you're finally awake," Errol said at his side.
Tony turned his head to glare at him. "What the hell do you want from me? There's no way in hell I'm building any weapons for you."
"No, Mr. Stark. We have other plans for you." The man held up a framed painting.
It had obviously been done by a talented artist. Tony would have assumed it was a photograph if he didn't know mermen were just fantasy creatures. And he had spent enough time with Steve to know how hard it was to make art look realistic. It had to have taken hours and hours and hours to make the crimson scales look like they had texture, like they reflected the golden rays of sunlight streaming through the water. And then somehow create the effect of water over the bronze skin and the dark hair streaming behind him. Weirdly, the merman's face looked a lot like Tony's. The similarities were uncanny. But then, that probably explained the whole kidnapping. The guy had to be a crazed fan.
If the guy was kidnapping him so he'd praise his artwork, well, Tony didn't have a problem with that. With the kidnapping part, sure, but being forced to look at nice art was by far the most harmless thing a villain had ever done.
"It's a real nice piece," Tony said. "It'd look good in the den. If you let me go, I'll give you half a mil for it."
Errol smiled. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Stark. I think you'd look much better in my den."
Tony's stomach dropped as the implication sunk in. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," he said. "There's no way you can make me a merman. Maybe you've seen Bucky and thought 'hey, that could work', but trust me, it won't. You can't just saw off my legs and stick a fish tail on me. I'll die."
"I wouldn't dream of anything so barbaric," Errol said with a shake of his head. "When I first decided I wanted a merman of my own, I hired several scientists to start working on a transformation serum for me. And now it's finally ready. They're very capable men and I assure you it's perfectly safe."
Tony squirmed against the restraints. He had a very different idea of "perfectly safe".
"Can I get you anything while we wait?" Errol inquired. "Another drink, perhaps?"
"Oh, fuck you," Tony said. "I'm not taking anything from you."
"Are you sure? It'll be your last drink as a human." Errol stroked the I.V. bag. "The transformation serum is already working its way through your veins."
"Doesn't seem to be working," Tony said, noting with satisfaction that the I.V. bag was almost empty. He didn't feel any different and when he had checked out the restraints earlier, he hadn't seen any sign of a tail.
"Give it time," Errol said. "The transformation process is very complex and we want to do things gradually to make it easier on your body."
"It's not going to work," Tony insisted. "Turning someone into a merman is impossible."
"That's what they said about the Supersoldier Serum, isn't it? That there was no way they could do anything with such a small subject? And look how Captain America turned out."
"Okay, that's not the same thing at all. The serum just made Steve a better man. Increased strength, increased stamina, bigger muscles. It didn't turn him into a fucking mythological creature."
"For a creative genius, you're awfully unimaginative. But I'm so certain that it will work that I've already made all the preparations for your new home after the transformation. Kevin, will you show Mr. Stark the habitat?"
One of the scientists reached up and flicked a switch on the wall. With a loud, hydraulic groan, the back wall slid away to reveal a giant tank.
"I spared no expense," Errol said proudly. "This whole thing is fifty feet deep and extends all the way up into the den upstairs. I lost almost 300 square feet from my living space, but the sacrifice was worth it. I had to have plenty of room for my beautiful pet to swim and for some nice seaweed and this underwater cave to complete the habitat. I think you'll really love your new home."
"I don't know if anybody's ever told you this, but I don't do caves," Tony said, staring uneasily at the monstrous rock formation. He had no way to tell, but he was pretty sure the thing stretched all the way to the top of the tank.
"PTSD after your captivity in Afghanistan. Yes, I've heard. But with my transformation serum, you'll have a clean slate. No more nightmares to plague you. Just the total freedom of your new life."
"You're insane," Tony said. "Absolutely insane. You think you can kidnap me, transform me into a merman and then make me enjoy it? Abso-fucking-lutely insane."
"It's happening as we speak," Errol said, gesturing to the empty I.V. bag. "Donovan, will you start another I.V. drip for Mr. Stark?"
"Right away, sir." Another one of the scientists approached Tony's side and began working on attaching another I.V. bag. He smiled down at Tony. "We're about halfway through the process. It shouldn't be much longer now before you start seeing results."
Tony swallowed convulsively. "You know who I am, right?"
"Of course, Mr. Stark." He looked back over his shoulder with a smile. "The boss would have no one else. From the moment he saw that stunning aerial rescue in Virginia, he's talked non-stop about how graceful you'd look swimming through the water."
Tony suppressed a shudder. So apparently he'd had a crazed stalker for over a year and he hadn't had a clue. Oh, Pepper had been so right. He really needed to start paying more attention to the people he interacted with.
"You're not going to get away with this," he said sternly. It was hard to seem threatening while strapped down on a gurney, but Tony put as much force into his glare as he could. "My team will come for me and when they do, they'll make you wish you had drowned yourself in that stupid tank."
"And how will they find you? No one knows you're here. We just ran into each other in Starbucks, you remember?"
Goddamnit, he was right. But his team was the best in the world. Surely somebody would notice he was missing, figure out he had to have gone out for coffee, and track him down to Errol's mansion.
He shifted uneasily in the restraints. There was no telling how long he had already been down here. Only a few hours, probably. Not long enough for anybody to miss him and start looking for him. But it felt like a lot longer. His back was protesting the time spent lying on the stupid gurney and his skin chafed under the restraints. And if he was being really honest, he was almost thirsty enough to want the drink Errol had offered him. But fuck that guy. Tony wasn't going to take anything from him. It was probably spiked again.
"You can feel it, can't you?" Errol said in a low voice, his eyes wide with delight. "The transformation is starting."
"I don't feel shit," Tony insisted. "Nothing's happening."
Errol patted Tony's shoulder. "It's a long, slow process to be sure, but I can already see the changes happening. We need to do so much more than just give you a tail. You'll need gills to breathe underwater, a protective layer over your eyes so they won't be irritated by the saltwater, sharper teeth for your new-"
"Look, I'm the last person to judge anyone's weird fetish, but you've put way too much thought into this."
Goddamnit. His I.V. site was itching which made him want to yank the damn thing out even more. But the restraints kept him locked in place so well he could barely rub his arm against the gurney to get relief.
"i'm sure you'll appreciate it later," Errol said cheerfully. "When you're happily thriving in your new home."
So Errol was definitely insane. There was no other explanation for his reactions. Most villains got annoyed when Tony sassed them and threatened to gag him if he couldn't keep quiet. But Errol was just so absorbed in his own plan that all of Tony's mockery was coming across like regular conversation. And crazy people always seemed to live in their own reality.
God, Tony wished he could escape reality for just a little while. The itching was driving him crazy. It was radiating all the way up to his shoulder now. If he stopped focusing on it for a moment, the feeling would probably pass, but it wasn't like Tony had anything better to do.
"So, I think your guy did the I.V. wrong," Tony said, wiggling his fingers restlessly. "I'm going to get an infection."
"I doubt it, Mr. Stark. Donovan is a highly trained professional. I hired him straight from the-"
"I don't care where he's from," Tony cut in sharply. "He's a fucking idiot. And so are you. Are you trying to kill me or what? Just what the hell did you put in this serum of yours?"
"Relax, Mr. Stark."
"Relax? How the hell am I supposed to relax? My skin is on fire. I don't know what the fuck is in this, but it's giving me one hell of an allergic reaction."
Errol frowned thoughtfully and reached down to undo the strap across Tony's waist. He grasped Tony's wrist and turned it over, apparently checking for any signs of a reaction. "No, everything appears to be just fine."
Tony growled, ready to have more words about just what "just fine" mean when he made the mistake of looking down at his hands.
They weren't his hands anymore. The fingers were long and slender, ending in a sharp, curved claw. And on the back of his hands was a layer of glittering gold and ruby red scales.
"Oh fuck," Tony said faintly.
"You see?" Errol said cheerfully. "Everything is going according to plan."
"I thought I was going to be a merman, not a fucking monster." Tony shuddered as he turned his hands over to get a better look. Oh god, they were webbed at the bottom.
"They're necessary for your survival. How do you expect to catch any fish without claws and eat them without sharper teeth?"
Tony sucked in a sharp breath. Fangs, too? What kind of creepy-ass mermaids had this guy been reading about?
He could feel the burning sensation spreading down his body in patches. A little bit on the back of his arm, a dusting over his shoulders, a ring around his collar bone, and a huge swath down his back. It was even worse when it got to his legs. The itch had barely started at his hip when pain shot down his spine. In a split second, it felt as if he had broken every single bone below the waist.
Tony howled with pain and arched upwards against the restraints.
The scientists crowded around him, tearing off his clothes in small strips. It was humiliating to be stripped naked like that, but also a great relief because his skin still felt like it was burning and the cool laboratory air was soothing. Tony got to see for himself as more scales slithered across his torso. They were a beautiful metallic red, which was fitting, because Tony felt like he was being dipped in molten metal.
"We need more space," said one of the scientists and the gurney was yanked further into the lab.
"More space," agreed another scientist and the restraining straps were finally removed.
Tony arched his back gratefully, relieved of the pressure. His legs still hurt like hell, especially on the back. They just felt so damn oversensitive that the padded gurney felt like it was lined with sandpaper. And the tile floor, while nice and cool against his burning skin, still felt like it was prickling his toes as they brushed-
Tony froze. With an effort, he raised himself up far enough to get a look at his legs. No wonder he felt like all his bones were broken. He probably didn't have any bones left. His legs were just long, stretched out flesh tubes now.
"What the hell did you do to me?" Tony cried out in panic. Fuck, his voice wasn't working right. There was this strange whistling noise behind all his words.
"Mr. Stark, I need you to stay calm."
"I can't breathe," Tony gasped out. He clawed desperately at his throat.
"Get him into the water!" someone shouted.
Tony thrashed as the men lifted him off the gurney and started carrying him towards a huge bucket of water. "No, no, no. I don't want this. I don't want to be a fucking merman."
They shoved him face-first into the water.
Tony screamed, but all that came out were bubbles.