Chapter Text
“Do you think MJ knows you’re Spider-Man?”
Peter almost misses his next swing, stuttering as he just barely sends out another web in time.
“What? Why? Did she say something?” Peter asks, wishing that he could see Ned’s facial expressions as he swings through the air.
“No. Well, not really,” Ned says unhelpfully, a flare of panic rushing through Peter as Ned continues, “she asked if I wanted to study with her for Trig.”
Peter squints underneath the mask, the natural dip and rhythm of swinging through the air making the blood rush to his head. A couple of tourists see him and wave, Peter waving back as he asks, “That’s a good thing right? She’s good at Trig.”
Peter smiles to himself, his stomach fluttering as he thinks, she’s good at everything.
His attempt to try out for the track team had been an abject failure - getting knocked out by a discus and then proceeding to go on a drug induced ramble that he’d largely liked to forget - had at least led to two good things.
The first was a long-winded but genuine apology from Flash, one where he swore and up and down that knocking him unconscious was an accident. Peter believed him from the look in his eye and ever since, Flash had been almost nice to him.
He still teased the shit out of him in Decathlon practice, sure but Peter could sense the change between them - rereading the text Flash had sent him while he was in the medbay and getting the distinct impression that Michelle had been right when she said Flash was convinced he’d murdered him.
Hadn’t even come close, though Peter didn’t want to think of what would’ve happened if Flash got his hands on the video footage of Peter being drugged out of his mind in the medbay. Even Flash would have his limits and now with the smallest bit of time that had passed, even Peter thought it was kind of funny.
The second was his friendship with Michelle - teetering closer and closer to something that caused Peter’s stomach to twist into knots in the best way, much to Ned’s slight annoyance that neither of them had made the first move.
“I hope she has figured it out. It’d be nice to have someone to talk about FOS stuff with,” Ned says, throwing Peter of his thoughts as he swings once more.
“FOS?” Peter asks, hearing Ned hum happily on the other line.
“Friend of Spider-Man. You know, the usual—“ Ned says flippantly, Peter grinning as he continues, “Fighting bad guys, recon. Post-patrol snacks.”
“Oh man, today’s Thursday, right? Did your mom make turon again?”
“Yeah,” Ned sighs dreamily, Peter’s stomach grumbling now not from the memory of Michelle’s smile but the chance to eat one of his favorite desserts, “but you better hurry. Kat says if you don’t get here by nine, she’s eating your half.”
“You tell Kat to keep her hands off my turon ,” Peter says with a huff, thinking of the last time Ned’s little sister snatched his plate out from under him.
Ned snickers on the other line, going to say something more when Peter’s senses scream at him - turning to the sensation when he hears a massive roar.
He sees Rhino immediately, going to swing towards him only for his senses to go completely haywire - the fraction of a second that he’s distracted immediately followed by a sharp, painful jab to his right thigh.
Peter cries out in pain, looking down to it only to see Scorpion - decked out in some suit Peter’s never seen before - smiling menacingly at him.
“Long time no see Spider-Man,” he calls out, lunging for him as Peter does a backwards flip - barely holding back a cry for the burning sensation crawling through his veins.
It’s as if he’s been set on fire from the inside out, Peter almost feeling whatever Scorpion had shot him with traveling through his veins as he swings in another direction.
Peter’s used to swinging himself through the air on the daily, his former fear of heights and of rollercoasters long gone from having been Spider-Man for the better half of a year. But this immediately sends him back in time - eight years old and terrified at Coney Island with Ben - the whole world feeling like it’s shifted off his axis as he scrambles away from Rhino and Scorpion.
The soft orange glow from the sunset was rapidly changing colors - the buildings around him shimmering and the air around him feeling syrupy, like Peter could reach a hand out and manipulate it. He has just enough presence of mind to swing away from getting hit by something Rhino throws at him, though even that starts to already feel like it’s fading as he gasps.
“Pete? What’s going on?” he distantly hears Ned say, his vision blurring and his senses continuing to go haywire as he just barely dodges another blow from Rhino - Scorpion’s cackle sounding distorted as he swings.
“I’m fine, just—a little thigh stab,” Peter wheezes, only to get slammed against a building wall by the tail of Scorpion’s suit - crying out again when the end point stings him straight in the chest.
“Peter! Peter, are you okay?”
His eyes flutter, swallowing down the bile he feels in the back of his throat as Scorpion let’s him loose - poised and ready for another attack only for Peter’s grip to loosen, falling down to the street below.
He frantically sends out another web, only for Rhino to pass through it - Peter going into free fall for a few more seconds as his mind swarms.
The city lights are just as distorted as Scorpion’s taunts, blurring together as Peter just barely saves himself from smacking head first into the pavement - distantly hearing Ned’s voice in the background getting more and more frantic.
“I’m fi—fine,” Peter slurs, swinging himself up into the air and back into the fight.
The phone call comes in at a little past eight.
For once Tony’s not in the lab, but up in the penthouse putting together dinner for when Pepper finally manages to pull herself away from the office—looking forward to surprising her with an impromptu date night. While there was no doubt Tony could be a workaholic when a project caught his attention, Pepper wasn’t exactly known for having the perfect work/life balance either. Which made the thoughtful surprises they occasionally did for the other—dinner dates, weekend getaways, massages to relax and more—even more important.
Tony’s just getting the lasagna pan into the oven, humming the tune of Volare (nel Blu Dipinto Di Blu) —one of his mother’s favorite songs—and feeling slightly impressed with himself for how perfectly everything is coming together, when his phone starts to chime.
“Bet that’s Pep,” he murmurs to himself, taking off his oven mitts and grabbing it without checking. “Hi sweetums, I was just about to text you. When are–”
“Mr. Stark? This is–”
“Ned. Sorry about that opener, I thought you were Pepper,” Tony says casually, rounding the kitchen island and going over to the table—plucking up one of the forks and rubbing it against his shirt to get rid of a small smudge he spots. “How’s the Guy in the Chair doing these days?”
“I’m good, but–”
“Are the Tagalog lessons going well?” Tony continues, fixing a napkin until it’s just right. “Y’know, you mentioning those actually got me thinking about brushing up on my Italian and–”
“We don’t have time for this. Peter’s in trouble!”
“What?” Tony instantly sobers, waving a hand in the air at FRIDAY. “Fri, bring up Spider-Man’s location and vitals.”
Instantly a hologram showing a map of a tiny, blinking Spider-Man mask on the very western edge of Queens appears along with a list of Peter’s health stats, Tony assessing the latter with a frown. “His heart rate is through the roof—is he fighting?”
“He is, with Rhino and Scorpion, but–”
“Both of them? Shit,” Tony interrupts, rubbing a hand over his face only to blanch when he sees the list of injuries, including punctures to his thigh and chest. A chest wound in particular could be catastrophic if it was deep enough, he knows. “Looks like he’s already injured too.”
“It’s more than that, Mr. Stark. He’s acting really weird—like, slurring his words and not reacting when I ask questions. I think Scorpion injected him with something.”
Tony curses, racing out onto the balcony—waving another hand to let FRIDAY know to send a suit from the lab. “Alright Ned, I’m on it. Just—stay on the line with him, okay? Tell him I’ll be there in”—Tony does some quick math—”about seventy seconds.”
He doesn’t wait for Ned to reply before letting his phone clatter to the balcony floor and leaping off the side of the tower. He usually finds it fun to just jump and wait for a suit to engulf him—knows it makes Pepper shake her head in exasperation, not to mention the whole team scoff at his apparent inability not to show off a bit—but right now he’s all business, his worry for Peter overtaking everything else.
The suit appears almost instantaneously, wrapping around him in mid-air, FRIDAY bringing up the same map and stats on his HUD that she had in the kitchen—only for Tony to now see a growing list of injuries start piling up beneath. Contusions, punctures, broken ribs—none are good. In fact, they’re all potentially very, very bad.
“Just get the hell outta there, Pete,” Tony finds himself pleading to nobody, biting back another curse as he watches the mask blip up and down the same street. It’s taking everything in him not to just hop onto the kid and Ned’s shared comm and order him to retreat. But if Peter is as out of it as Ned says, well—chances are adding Tony to the conversation would only distract and confuse him, possibly at a crucial moment when he—when none of them—can afford it. He’ll have to wait until he’s closer to talk directly to the kid.
Gritting his teeth, Tony urges the suit to go faster, willing himself to focus on the Spidey mask jumping around the map and not the increasingly concerning alerts flooding the other side of his screen.
Because Peter was going to be fine. Tony would get there before Rhino or Scorpion managed to land a killing blow, he would. And then he and Bruce would figure out what—if anything—the kid had been injected with and take care of that too. There was simply no other acceptable outcome.
“I’m coming, kid,” Tony says, more to reassure himself than anything else. “Hang in there.”
“Shit,” Peter mutters to himself, shivering slightly as he haphazardly lands on a light pole, missing it by a few feet and hitting it straight on across his midsection.
“Peter, listen. I called Mr. Stark, he’s on his way.”
“Why’d— why’s y’u do that?” Peter asks, his mouth feeling like there’s cotton stuffed in it, the burning sensation he’d felt not five seconds before now replaced with ice. He shivers as he braces himself against the pole, Scorpion’s muffled yells from underneath him drowned out by Rhino’s roar.
Peter doesn’t even remember taking him out, blank spaces in his memory as he scrambles into a crouch. One minute he was swinging a punch towards Scorpion and in the next he was in the air, Peter feeling more and more disoriented as time continued to pass.
Yet the only indication that time has passed at all is the inky blackness of the sky around him, a part of Peter gently whispering that it hadn’t been that much time at all.
He shoves that down in favor of a strong instinct, Rhino barreling towards him as he swings away - the light pole he was on decimated as Scorpion yells out, “You idiot, you almost crushed me!”
“GET OUT OF WAY!” Rhino yells back, some comeback forming in the back of Peter’s mind only for it to get lost in translation - losing track of whatever it is that he was going to say as he swings in the opposite direction.
“Peter, listen to me, okay man? You’re gonna be okay.”
“Ned?” Peter asks, his eyebrows furrowing underneath the mask as he lands on yet another light pole - Rhino and Scorpion still arguing giving Peter the briefest moment of reprieve. “Where—are you here?”
“No, Peter I’m—I’m at home,” Ned says, Peter thinking he almost sounds scared - the sound of it only causing Peter’s own nerves to unravel.
“Are y-you ‘kay? Where… where are you?” Peter asks, looking around for where Ned could be.
“Peter? Peter what--”
“Is-- where are you? Ned, where’s--” Peter groans, pressing a hand to his forehead as he tries to make sense of what’s happening around him. His chest hurts but he can’t remember why, every breath painful and wheezy.
His skin is fire and yet his veins are like ice, shivering so violently that he’s not sure how long he can stay atop the light pole yet feeling like he’d been through a rainstorm - the sweat gathering on the back of his neck underneath his mask starting to bother him.
It reminds him of the time that Michelle had put her hair up once in class, Peter getting to see the clasp of a necklace - one that he’d always meant to ask her about but never got the chance to.
His stomach drops, Rhino’s roar coming back in full force as he frantically looks around.
“MJ?” he asks to no one, looking around as Ned’s voice starts to come back into focus.
“MJ? Pete, what are you--”
“MJ’s she’s-- she’s… in trouble,” Peter slurs, making a face as he tried to get his tongue work right. “Y’u and MJ, you’re—where are you?”
He looks around once more, only for everything in him to tell him to move - leaping off the light pole purely on instinct, hearing a crash in the distance as he sends out another web - only for it to land on nothing and Peter to go tumbling to the ground.
He hits the pavement hard, his head snapping against the dark asphalt. Peter groans, the asphalt changing colors from black to blue to an unearthly shade of green - Peter staring at it in wonder when another voice cuts through everything.
“Kid? You with me?”
“M’sr St’rk? What--”
“Listen to me, Underoos. I’m on my way. I need you to stay focused and in one piece until I get there.”
“Y’re wha’? But ‘m–” Peter’s reply is cut short by a groan followed shortly by more wheezing as he stands once again, the ground beneath him shaking from what he can only guess is an earthquake. He turns just in time to see Rhino rushing straight towards him, Peter blinking at him in confusion.
“Kid? Peter?”
“SPIDER-MAN, YOU WILL--”
Rhino’s cut off by Peter throwing a hand out, landing a punch square across his chest that sends Rhino flying. He watches as Rhino hits the building wall across them, cracking it slightly as Peter winces - only to groan again as he puts a hand to his head.
“Peter!? What’s happening?”
The panic he felt just a few seconds before comes back in full force, stumbling slightly as he frantically looks around.
“Ned? Ned, where’s-- wh’re you and MJ?”
“Peter, we’re fine. I’m fine,” Ned hurriedly says, Peter frowning when he hears Tony’s voice somewhere else in the distance.
“Kid, I need you to stay put—that’s an order. I’m coming right towards you, just hang on.”
“M’sr Stark? What’re you… bu’ wait… Ned if-- you okay where’s… where’s MJ?” Peter asks, unable to focus on anything anymore but the panic and the bile all bubbling right back up into his throat. It’s like a rock has been placed on his chest even if he’s standing up right, gasping for air as he wheezes. Had he hurt it somehow? He can’t remember.
Peter stumbles forward, sending a hand out and launching himself into the air. He immediately regrets it, a wave of nausea passing over him until he lands against the side of a building - bracing himself on his hands and his knees.
Peter’s head moves out of his own accord, the nausea now paired with an overwhelming dizziness as he looks around.
He can’t see Ned or MJ anywhere, much less Mr. Stark - the latter of which is yelling something at him that try as he might, Peter can’t decipher.
Peter closes his eyes but finds there’s no relief in the sensation - squeezing them even tighter to try and make whatever’s making him feel like he’s gonna jump out of his skin go away.
It doesn’t, Peter opening his eyes when a new sensation starts to take over, blearily looking at his fingers as the wall underneath him starts to shake.
It happens in a second.
One moment Peter is holding on to the side of the building, the bricks changing into obscene colors of blue and green as Peter frowns.
Then the bricks are gone, Peter’s grip giving way as whatever power that was holding him to the wall disappears with them.
The last thing he hears before he slips into the darkness are Tony’s screams.