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Peter groaned in frustration as he dodged away from the Lizard’s claws, curling his fingers protectively around the syringe hidden in his hand.
He and Mr. Stark had managed to synthesize a cure that would change the creature back to a relatively harmless Dr. Connors, which would be fantastic if Peter could only get close enough to use it.
A long green talon nearly caught Peter as he darted back, prompting a realization to spark in his mind. He just had to change his strategy. He pulled himself towards the Lizard with his webs, pretending to be too occupied with throwing the reptile off its rhythm to notice the claw closing in on him.
The Lizard’s grip circled tightly around Peter’s neck, lifting him swiftly off the ground. Peter spluttered for a second as large claws squeezed around his windpipe, and he had to remind himself not to panic as he started to choke.
Before Connors could do any permanent damage, he lifted the syringe and swiftly plunged it into the Lizard’s neck. He depressed the plunger, wheezing out his quip, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m stronger than I look,” as the Lizards grasp started to loosen.
He dropped to the ground with a thunk, gasping in grateful breaths. Not even bothering to keep an eye on the Lizard, he stayed down, his cheek pressed against the cool ground.
Peter heard the distinct sound of repulsors from somewhere behind him. He let his eyes slide closed, thoroughly exhausted.
“You good, kid?”
Peter gave a thumbs up in the general direction of Mr. Stark’s voice.