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Two hours, eighteen minutes, and forty-five seconds. That was how long it took for Parker luck to strike again. How long it took for Peter to once again be buried beneath the rubble of a fallen building. But this time, he wasn’t alone.
Two hours, twenty minutes, and fifteen seconds earlier.
Peter Parker was fidgeting in Spanish class when his phone vibrated. He ignored it the first time, but when it rang the fourth time, he raised his hand, muttered something about needing to go to the bathroom, and then quickly ran into the hallway.
“Hello?” he whispered harshly.
“Kid, you need to get out of that school of yours right now!”
“Mr. Stark? Why, what’s going on?” Peter could hear the whirring of Mr. Stark’s suit, the blast of explosives, and screams.
“Let’s just say we have a bit of a problem and they’re headed right towards Midtown. Kid, move your ass and don’t even think about putting on the suit!” The call crackled and cut off.
“Mr. Stark!” Peter fumbled at his phone, seeing Call Failed emblazoned across the screen, right before the fire alarms began to go off. Students and teachers began streaming out of classrooms. Peter pressed himself against the wall, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed. If it was this bad, Mr. Stark would need his help. Slipping into the now empty Spanish classroom, Peter grabbed his bag, pulling out his suit. Changing quickly, he threw himself out of the window, crawling up to the roof. From there, he could see the distinct line of smoke rising, headed straight for Midtown.
“Karen, what’s going on?” Karen quickly complied, showing him traffic camera footage of what looked like off brand Ultron bots, except these had the familiar logo of Hammer Industries emblazoned across it.
“I thought Justin Hammer was sent to jail?” Peter said, as the footage showed the sudden appearance of Iron Man and War Machine blasting the bots with what seemed to be supersonic weapons.
“It appears that the rich can talk themselves out of anything, Peter.” Peter huffed.
“I guess so. How is the evacuation going, anyone left inside in the surrounding area?” As much as Peter wanted to join the fight alongside his mentor and the Avengers that were left, getting people out of harm’s way was more important. Karen began directing him to the buildings that hadn’t been completely evacuated yet. It soon became a blur of swinging from one building to the next, as the sound of battle gradually grew closer. Suddenly, Mr. Stark’s voice rang through the comms.
“Kid, what the hell are you doing? I told you to get out, and to not even think about putting on the suit!”
“Sorry, Mr. Stark, but there were a lot of people still trapped in the surrounding buildings. I just wanted to help.” He heard Mr. Stark growl and grind his teeth. Then he sighed.
“Only evacuate kid, I don’t want you involved in this.”
“Yes, sir.” Peter went back to evacuating, until he was hit by a flying bot. He grunted as he scrabbled at the slick metal, quickly ripping out its system and swinging away. Suddenly, he was in the thick of the battle, the bots recognizing him as a threat. Peter shot webs, flipping, turning, and slamming the things into each other. Mr. Stark got back on the line.
“Kid…”
“They’re the ones who attacked me, sir! I didn’t mean to!”
“Later, kid, we’re going to have a talk about staying away when I tell you to.”
“Can we do it when we’re not being attacked by random robots?”
“Yeah, Tony, as much as we all like to hear you being a responsible father figure, now isn’t the best time.” Peter couldn’t tell who it was, but he assumed that anyone on this comm was trustworthy. At least, to Tony. A different voice took over.
“Spider-Man, keep doing what you’re doing. Try your best to keep the bots at a distance.” Peter gave some sort of affirmative, getting back to fighting. It felt like it had been hours, the explosions getting very close to Peter as he tried his best to duck and dodge blasts. At some point he had been forced back into the lobby of a fancy office building.
“Peter, there are people in this building. The structural integrity is at thirty percent. I highly recommend getting them out before it collapses,” Karen suddenly said in his ear.
“Where are they, Karen?” Peter yelled as he slammed two bots into the wall.
“Structural integrity at 26%. They are two floors above, Peter.”
“Hey guys, this building is about to come down, and there are still people in here! I could use some help!”
“The building is coming down? Get out of there kid!” Mr. Stark yelled.
“I’m on my way, Spider-Man,” one of the unknown voices said in his ear. Peter didn’t wait. Quickly, he made his way over to the emergency exit, shooting webs up to the second floor. He threw himself into the room, Karen showing him where three people cowered under their desks. He pulled them out, the shaking of the unstable building becoming more obvious. Dragging them over to one of the broken windows, he got them out using his webs, swinging them into a nearby alleyway where they would be able to run to safety. Unfortunately, it used the last of his webs. He ran down the stairs, back to the lobby.
“Structural integrity at 7%, Peter.” The person who had backed him up was covered in bots, swinging with the same amount of strength Peter had. It wasn’t enough. Peter fought his way over, standing back to back with the guy. As they tried to punch their way over to the door, Peter noticed something. One of the bots was standing eerily still. It raised its repulsor, pointing it towards them.
“Get down!” Peter yelled, pushing the guy to the floor. It wasn’t until after that Peter realized the bot wasn’t aiming for them.
“3%.”
“Kid!”
Rubble fell, and everything went dark.
Zero hours, thirty-eight minutes, and twenty seconds later.
“Spider-Man! Spider-Man, I need you to wake up.” Peter coughed, blearily staring at the person who was rudely shaking his aching body.
“Who… who are you?” Peter asked, trying to sit up. Immediately, he groaned in pain, feeling something foreign shift in his abdomen.
“Don’t move. There’s about a thousand tons of rubble, one wrong move…”
“Will send it tumbling. Got it, okay.” Peter tried to breathe. Once again, he was under a pile of concrete just waiting to crush him.
Please, I’m down here, please, I’m stuck.
“Hey, you need to breathe, Spider-Man. Deep breaths.”
I can’t move, I can’t…
Peter scrabbled at his mask, ripping it off. If anything, it made it worse. Suddenly, dust coated his throat, causing him to cough, and he felt whatever was in abdomen shift and fall. Pain ripped through him, and he screamed. He felt a hand grab his.
“I know it hurts, Spider-Man, but you gotta stay still. Deep breaths, in and out, breathe through the pain.” Peter nodded, slowly getting his breathing under control. He could feel a wetness slowly begin to spread.
“Can you look at me?” Peter looked up at the stranger he was trapped under a building with. What struck him first was the fierce blue eyes, sunken in a face etched with exhaustion and pain. The man looked like he had been either on the run or trying to lay low, his hair long and shaggy, and his beard giving him a rugged, outlaw look. Peter looked further down and saw the faded star emblazoned on his chest.
“Captain America?” Peter gasped. The man grinned.
“Nice to finally meet you, Queens,” then he frowned, “But how old are you?”
One hour, ten minutes, and sixteen seconds later.
They had been chatting for a little while. Keeping each other awake. Apparently the something wrong with the Captain’s leg. Peter hadn’t mentioned the probable hole in his chest. The rubble shifted and Peter flinched, his breathing beginning to pick up again.
“Hey, you okay, Queens?” Peter nodded, trying to slow his breathing down.
Hello!? Hello!? Please, hey, please…
“Spider-Man! Snap out of it! Hey, Queens!” Peter felt his face being grabbed and suddenly he was looking into the very blue eyes of Captain America.
“I need you to listen to me okay? There’s probably not an unlimited supply of air. You need to breathe, slowly and deeply, you can’t hyperventilate. Tell me what’s going through your head, buddy.”
“I can’t… I’m stuck… I can’t…”
“I know, so am I. You know, this is the second time I’ve been trapped underneath the rubble of a fallen building? Though that other time I was with Natasha and I had my shield. We were trying to find out about H.Y.D.R.A. and were in this old S.H.I.E.L.D. Bunker. There was this missile and we didn’t have enough time to get out. We managed to shield ourselves in this hole in the ground and covered ourselves up with my shield,” the man ran his hand through his hair, “Hell, we barely got out of there alive. I never talked about it with Nat, never processed it. I’m realizing that was probably a mistake now.”
“You were trapped under a building?” Peter asked. The Captain nodded.
“All I can remember is this overwhelming need to get out. That I couldn’t…”
“Breathe,” Peter sighed. The man looked over at him. Peter huffed in amusement.
“It’s not my first time either.” Peter then told Captain America all about the Vulture, how he was too cocky, too smart for his own good. How he followed the man to his warehouse and then proceeded to get crushed beneath a building. How he had lifted it somehow and then followed the Vulture, saved the plane, and almost got himself killed.
“Every time I try to sleep I dream of being crushed by that building. Or being slammed over and over into the beach, his claws digging into my chest. Or not being able to pull the plane off course and it crashing into the city. I haven’t slept in days.” Peter coughed, feeling blood spray out his mouth. His vision blackened at the edges. It had been creeping on him for a while, but now…
“Mr. Captain Steve sir,” Peter muttered, “Can you tell my Aunt May that… That I don’t think I’ll be home for dinner? Or ask Mr. Stark to tell her?” The Captain, who had begun to look very panicked when blood sprayed from Peter’s mouth, began shaking him.
“Spider-Man, no! Stay awake, Spider-Man! Peter, stay awake!”
But it was too late. Peter’s eyes had closed.
Three days, four hours, twenty-five minutes, and fifty-eight seconds later.
Peter Parker awoke to the sound of beeping. He breathed deeply before opening his eyes. Clean air without the dust that had scraped at his lungs, without the crushing weight of cement and mortar, and glass pushing down on his body. Peter smiled and opened his eyes. Passed out in a chair beside his bed was Mr. Stark, his hand holding Peter’s, mouth open and snoring. Behind him, Peter could see May curled up in a chair, using her purse as a pillow. A slight cough and Peter looked towards the door. Captain America stood there, leaning heavily to one side, keeping most of his weight off his left leg. His head was bandaged and he had some bruises, but beside that, as far as Peter could see, he was okay. Peter opened his mouth, but the Captain held a finger to his lips.
Quietly, he whispered, “Just wanted to check on you before I left. I’m glad you’re awake. There’s a piece of paper on your bedside table if you ever need help. Or just need to talk.” Peter nodded mutely.
“I’ll see you later, Queens. Keep swinging, but try your best not to get yourself killed.” Peter rolled his eyes and the Captain smirked, gave a small salute, and left as silently as he came. Peter shifted, trying to make himself a little more comfortable, and groaned as he pulled his side. Mr. Stark immediately straightened as May fell out of her chair.
“Peter, are you alright?” Both asked at the same time.
“I’m fine, just moved wrong.”
“Oh good, that means we can discuss the genius plan of running into buildings whose structural integrity is compromised.”
“But Mr. Stark, there were people in there!”
“You’re lucky Rogers was there with you kid, somehow he managed to lift the rubble you both were stuck under and drag you out. You were half-dead by the time we got you to the tower!”
“But I’m not,” Peter smirked cheekily.
“Oh, you are so grounded, young man!”
“May!”
As his family bickered, Peter fought to keep back a smile. He was safe. He was home.