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When the plane crashed, Peter knew he was screwed. Mr. Stark was going to kill him for this one, if the Vulture didn’t get to him first. Hopefully some of the things were still salvageable.
Hopefully they were fire-resistant.
Peter coughed, ripping his mask off, standing up shakily and overlooking the damage. The beach was ablaze, parts of the formerly beautiful plane scattered across the sand. He really hoped there were no people watching him right now.
His ears were ringing, and the smoke was almost suffocating. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken his mask off. The cloth might’ve helped filter it out.
He coughed again, wincing as the pain in his ribs flared up. Yeah, they were definitely bruised. Probably broken, if he was being realistic.
Peter felt the hairs on his neck raise suddenly, and he squinted into the distance, hazy air making it hard to see-
BOOM.
The Vulture crashed into him, sending Peter face down into the sand. He groaned, ears still ringing, and pulled himself up into a standing position.
Toomes was readying himself for another strike, wingsuit sparking in ways it probably shouldn’t have.
“Hey Pedro.”
Peter prepared himself as the man flew at him, rolling under the suit and attempting to shoot a web. It missed, flying into the air.
Shit.
The Vulture dove, and Peter barely had time to react as he was shoved into the ground yet again. His head smacked into the sand, and the claws on the suit dug into his ribs.
Peter cried out, and Toomes lifted him into the air. Peter flailed his arms, attempting to get some sort of control as he hung from the claws. Suddenly, he was released, falling towards the rubble.
Peter gasped, quickly shooting a web that this time hung on to the suit, flinging himself up and kicking the man away from him.
For just a few seconds, Peter finally had the upper hand. But that quickly went to hell as he found himself falling again, this time face first into the ground.
Ouch.
The sound of the Vulture’s loud suit came from above, and Peter couldn’t react fast enough. He was grabbed from his back, lifted into the smoky air once again and slammed into the ground.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He definitely had some broken ribs now. Groaning, he flipped himself over onto his back, not having the energy to open his eyes and look at Toomes.
If he had known how tonight was going to go, he probably would’ve called Mr. Stark.
But hey, hindsight is always twenty-twenty.
And Peter wasn’t known for his skills in planning ahead.
Crap, Ned was probably worried out of his mind. Peter hadn’t even told him exactly what was going on.
Did they see the plane crash from school?
Was anyone even paying attention?
Peter finally opened his eyes again, seeing the Vulture now hovering above him, wing poised to strike.
It was aimed directly at his shoulder.
Toomes’s head tilted, and Peter couldn’t even move out of the way as the wing’s sharp tip came towards him.
This was going to hurt.
The wing pierced through his shoulder, and Peter let out a choked off scream. The metal had stabbed through him, and he knew it had hit his bone.
His shoulder screamed in pain, and Peter felt his eyes close as his mind threatened to slip into unconsciousness.
When the wingsuit moved, metal still in his shoulder, he finally did, pain fading away as he went into darkness.
____________________________________________________________________________
He stayed there, mind blank as he floated in empty space.
He couldn’t remember how he got here, but he knew it was better than being somewhere else.
Somewhere full of pain.
That was what he could remember. Pain everywhere.
He really didn’t want to go back.
It was okay here.
Peaceful, even. He’d missed that.
But something was nagging at the back of his mind.
He tried to shove it away, but it just kept coming back.
The feeling that something was wrong here.
That he needed to go back, or else something bad would happen.
He needed to go back.
Peter opened his eyes, finding himself face-down in the sand. He groaned as the pain from his shoulder and ribs came back to him, almost sending him into unconsciousness once more.
He couldn’t do that. He had to stay awake.
What was he doing again?
The Vulture’s wingsuit came into view. He was lifting a crate into the air.
A crate full of important supplies that needed to be moved to the Avengers Compound. He was going to steal them to make weapons. Weapons that would endanger everyone in New York.
Something was wrong with his wingsuit, though. Sparks were coming off of it, and the wings kept twitching oddly, curling into unnatural shapes.
Toomes’ suit was going to explode. He couldn’t let that happen. Liz would be devastated, he was her dad.
Peter forced himself upwards, feeling tears form in his eyes and gritting his teeth through the pain. His right arm was almost unusable, but he made it move, finally getting into a crouched position.
“Your wingsuit! Your wingsuit’s gonna explode!” Peter shouted, voice hoarse from the pain and smoke.
Toomes didn’t answer, and Peter grimaced, crying out as he shot a web at the crate. It stuck, pulling Peter into a standing position.
He felt his mind trying to fade again, but he couldn’t let it. He had to stay awake. He could do this.
Peter tried to get a grip on the ground as he was dragged forward, the Vulture still trying to fly away. Finally, Toomes turned around, facing Peter.
His manic eyes glinted. “Time to go home, Pete.” It was clear that the man didn’t notice his failing technology.
“I’m trying to save you!” Peter yelled, voice cracking. Toomes couldn’t die, he had to do this.
The man laughed, cutting the web and sending Peter flying back into the ground. His shoulder hit the sand, and Peter screamed, vision going white from the pain.
When it finally faded back in, he knew it was too late. The Vulture was in the air, and his wings were sparking with purple electricity. Peter lifted his left wrist, trying to shoot one last web.
Nothing came out.
The suit’s wings caved in, and Peter saw Toomes’ panicked face as he began to fall.
He cried out as the explosion shook the ground, attempting to cover his face with his good arm.
A wave of heat hit him, but thankfully, no debris came his way.
Peter propped himself up on his elbow. He couldn’t see Toomes through the flames.
“No.” His voice came out quiet and shaky. “No!”
With a pained cry, Peter pulled himself back into a standing position, forcing himself to work through the agony.
He had to save his friend’s dad.
Peter stumbled, trying to run to where he knew Toomes would be. There was a small opening in the flames, and Peter staggered through, feeling the sparks making small burns through his makeshift suit.
Finally, he saw the wingsuit. It was covering the older man, mangled metal wings unmoving.
Peter grimaced as he crouched down, reaching with his left arm to the wing. He hissed in pain when the metal burned him, but lifted it up anyway, ignoring the feeling.
The Vulture was unconscious underneath, slight burns on his face but otherwise looking unharmed.
He was going to have to move him.
This was not going to be fun.
Peter grabbed the man’s jacket, trying to lift him as much as he could with his one good arm. Toomes didn’t move.
He saw a path away from the flames and headed in that direction, exhaustion threatening to overtake him.
Peter pushed through it, focusing on the white hot pain in his shoulder to keep himself awake.
“Come on Spider-Man, you can do this. Just get him taken care of and you’re done.” He said through gritted teeth, dragging the man through the sand.
Finally, he reached an open area. He dropped Toomes to the beach, almost collapsing next to him. He stayed on his feet, looking at his surroundings. There was a still-intact crate in front of him, one that hadn’t been destroyed in the crash.
It was far enough away from the fire that Toomes would be safe. He needed to web him up to it. That way, if he did wake up, he wouldn’t get away.
If the Vulture escaped, all of this would be for nothing.
Peter pulled an extra web cartridge from his pocket, thankful that it hadn’t been destroyed during the fight.
Placing the cartridge in his web shooter, he fired it at the man, securing him to the crate.
“Okay, almost done.” Peter told himself, trying not to pass out. He had to get away before the authorities came. He didn’t have his mask on.
One identity reveal was enough for today.
Peter looked around for a place to go. He knew he didn’t have much time until he would be unconscious. His apartment was much too far away to get to in time, and if he did make it, May would freak out if she found him after her shift at the hospital.
The rollercoaster. If he could get to the top of it, he could web himself to it and stay until he could move again.
Yeah. That would work.
Peter stumbled forward once more, holding his shoulder. It wasn’t that far, he would make it.
He had to make it.
He cried out as he pulled himself up the side of the coaster with a web, climbing the rest of the way. Every time he moved, pain shot through him.
Peter fought to cling to the metal, forcing himself to keep going.
“Come on, come on, you can do this.”
After what felt like an eternity, he reached the top. There was a square platform, just big enough for Peter to lie on.
He collapsed onto it, shoulder and ribs flaring in pain once again. Now, he just had to web himself here.
Then he could sleep.
Peter shot the web, securing himself to the platform just before the pain overtook him and he faded into darkness again.
____________________________________________________________________________
Tony was really hoping that moving day was going smoothly. He had far too many gray hairs already.
But alas, when did life ever go the easy way for him?
“Happy, you’ve gotta slow down, I can’t hear you. What the hell happened to my plane?” Tony was already in his suit, flying as fast as he could towards Coney Island.
He’d been on a date with Pepper, trying to get his mind off of the day and have a nice, calm dinner for once. When Happy had first called, Tony ignored it, thinking the man was just being paranoid.
After the third call, he’d picked up.
Which led to him flying over the ocean towards the beach.
“It crashed. Tony, you’ve gotta hurry, it’s bad.” Happy’s voice sounded panicked.
Tony couldn’t exactly blame him. “I’m almost there. Did you find the guy?”
“Yeah. Adrian Toomes.” He heard Happy sigh. “Tony, he was found covered in webs.”
Tony nearly choked. “Webs? As in the Spider-kid’s webs?”
“There’s blood on the ground. Toomes isn’t injured.” Happy paused. “I can’t find the kid, Tony.”
Tony swore. “Alright, I’ll be there in a second, just hang on.”
He hung up as the beach came into view. Happy was right. It was bad.
The beach was a mess, rubble littered across the sand. Multiple small fires sent smoke into the air, and Ton
“F.R.I.D.A.Y, track Peter’s suit.”
“Peter’s suit is currently confiscated, boss. It is not in use.” The AI replied.
“Shit!”
The kid didn’t even have his suit. And apparently, he was bleeding. God, this was what he wanted to prevent.
“Okay, scan for life forms matching Peter’s description.” Tony hovered in the air above the beach, turning his head to try and find the teen.
“A match has been found on top of the rollercoaster.”
Tony’s display lit up, zooming in on a huddled form on top of the structure. “Thanks, Fri.”
He shot towards the coaster, the figure still unmoving. Tony could now see that Peter had secured himself to the platform with one of his own webs. He must’ve known he would pass out.
“Kid?”
Tony landed on the small platform, seeing Peter’s unmasked face. It was bruised, multiple cuts and small burns littering his skin. His lip was split and bleeding.
“Jesus, Pete, he did a number on you.”
The kid didn’t stir.
Then, Tony saw the rest of him. Peter’s makeshift suit was torn, some of it ripped or blackened with burns.
There was blood in multiple places, gashes on his ribcage. Tony could see dark bruises on his torso.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
Something had stabbed through the kid’s shoulder. The wound was bleeding heavily, and Tony could tell the bone had been broken.
“Peter, I’m just going to pick you up, okay?”
There was no answer.
“Alright. This might hurt, kid, I’m sorry.”
Tony reached down, severing the web that had been holding the kid in place and lifting him up, trying not to jostle his shoulder in the process.
Apparently, that hadn’t worked.
Peter cried out, eyes flying open as he struggled to get out of Tony’s grasp.
“Whoa kid, it’s alright, I’ve got you. I’m taking you to the compound, we’re gonna get you fixed up.”
Peter’s eyes were glassy. “Mr. St’rk?” His speech was slurred. He was losing blood.
Tony needed to hurry. Thankfully, F.R.I.D.A.Y had already started the path to the compound.
“Yeah kid. You did good. We’re gonna go, okay, I need you to stay with me.”
Tony willed the suit to go faster. They were over the city now, buildings rushing by. He could hear the sounds of the busy streets below him.
“Mr. St’rk?”
Tony swallowed thickly. “Yeah kid?”
“Why’d you come?”
“What?”
Peter continued sluggishly. “Wh’d you come?”
Tony’s heart sank. Did the kid really think he wouldn’t come for him? “Happy called, said you’d webbed up the guy and he couldn’t find you. You almost gave him a heart attack, you know.”
“Oh. S’ry.”
The lights of the city had faded away, and the forests of upstate New York were now beneath him. They were nearing the compound, but not fast enough.
“Peter’s vitals are dropping.”
Tony gritted his teeth. “I know, Fri, just get me to the compound.”
“I have alerted Dr. Cho of Peter’s arrival.”
“Thank you.” Tony sighed. Cho was really going to kill him for this one.
“C’n I go to sleep?” Peter’s voice was quiet, and Tony cursed.
“I’m sorry kid, you’ve gotta stay awake. I know you’re tired, but you can’t sleep yet.”
“I’m gonna go to sleep.”
Tony felt Peter go limp in his arms. “F.R.I.D.A.Y!”
“We’re almost there, boss. Peter is still alive.” The AI sounded almost as worried as Tony felt.
“Hang in there, kid.”
____________________________________________________________________________
Something was beeping loudly, and it was annoying.
Peter groaned. He wanted to sleep. He was tired.
“Peter? You awake?”
His eyes shot open and he looked to the side to see Mr. Stark, sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair. “Mr. Stark?”
Peter looked around. He was laying on a bed, head propped up by a pillow and most of his body covered by a white blanket. The walls around him were opaque glass, and he could see shadows moving outside of them.
Connected to his arm were multiple I.V drips. “What- what happened?”
Tony sighed. It was then that Peter noticed how he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was messy, like he hadn’t slept much in days.
“Well kid, Happy can’t climb roller coasters. He called me, I came and got you.”
Shit. Tony had seen the beach. He’d seen the mess Peter had made.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to crash the plane, all of your stuff was on fire, I tried to get it but then the Vulture guy got me-”
Tony looked at him in astonishment. “Kid. It’s fine. My stuff doesn’t matter, they were able to salvage most of it. That plane wasn’t mine, S.H.I.E.L.D can deal with it later.”
Peter continued. “But-”
Tony held up his hand. “Peter. Stop.”
Peter snapped his mouth shut, waiting.
“What you did was stupid, reckless, and dangerous. But you managed to fix it, and you managed to get out alive. What matters is that you’re safe.”
Peter stared at him in surprise.
Tony continued. “You’ve gotta stay in the hospital for a few more days. I called your aunt, tried to tell her it was a car crash.”
“Tried to?”
Tony grinned. “Apparently, you’re incredibly bad at keeping secrets. She figured it out last night and she’s on her way right now.”
Peter groaned. “Seriously? She’s going to ground me for months.”
Tony laughed. “I convinced her to keep it down to one month. After that, she’s willing to negotiate a schedule for your patrols.”
“Really?”
“Yeah kid. Now go back to sleep, it might help her feel less angry at both of us.”