Set after the events of Spider-man: Homecoming
Almost home. Have you started the Spanish homework yet?
I send off the text to Ned and adjust the strap of my backpack that had begun to slip off my shoulder. I enter the apartment complex and head for the stairs. My phone vibrates in my hand, and I look down to read Ned's reply.
Yeah. It's super easy. How was patrol? Anything good?
I saved a cat that was stuck in a tree.
Ned's response is three laughing emojis, followed by a cat. I snort as I head up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Dude, seriously?
Seriously. Scratched the hell out of me too. I examine my still stinging forearm, and groan to see that small dots of blood have stained my plaid button up shirt I'm wearing over a t-shirt that says "Never trust an atom, they make up everything". Shit. Aunt May's going to kill me. Maybe I can play it off as ketchup from lunch today.
I'm almost at our landing, and my nose picks up the smell of smoke. I wince. May's burning something again. I reach our floor and head down the hall, slipping my phone into my pocket before I enter our apartment.
"Hey, May," I call as I close the door behind me. I let my backpack fall from my shoulder and head for the kitchen. She isn't there, but a large covered pot is on the stove, smoke leaking out from beneath the lid. I turn the burner off and grab the take out menu.
"May?" I call again, and turn to face the living room.
I freeze.
Months ago, I had walked into our apartment and seen May sitting with a stranger on our couch. Except the stranger happened to be Tony Stark, who recruited me to fight in Germany, and built me my suit.
I am struck by the parallels as I take in May seated on the sofa, her back ramrod straight, her face pale and eyes wide. The stranger on the couch is definitely not Tony Stark. It's no stranger at all.
It's Adrian Toomes.
He grins up at me, taking a sip of coffee from my Aunt's favorite mug. "Hey there, Pedro."
Holy shit.
My mind scrambles to catch up, to process and understand that Adrian Toomes, AKA the Vulture, the man who tried to kill me multiple times, is in my living room. He's here, when he should be locked up in a cell far away.
I flash back to that moment where I am standing on Liz's doorstep, and Toomes opens the door. It was like a kick to the chest, my horror and shock had hit me so severely. This is infinitely worse. Because it isn't just my identity, my life, in jeopardy. It's May's.
My eyes flick to my Aunt's, and the terror I see in her eyes sends a jolt to my core. I know her, I know that her worry isn't fear for her life, but for mine. Her hands clench and unclench in her lap.
"Your Aunt and I were just getting acquainted," Toomes says, something dangerous glinting in his gaze. My body is rigid, tense and alert, like the prey that senses a predator nearby. "Quite the spitfire, isn't she? Terrible at making coffee though. No offense."
May's head snaps back to him, and her lips part to no doubt rip him a new one.
"How'd you escape?" I ask quickly before she can speak.
"You're not the only one with friends in high places, kid," Toomes replies and sets down his coffee. I catch a gleam of metal underneath his jacket as his body shifts from the movement, and my stomach tightens in response. Knowing him, that is no ordinary gun.
"What do you want?" I demand through clenched teeth even though I already know. His promise in that car in front of the school is ringing in my ears. I wish suddenly, desperately for the familiar weight of my web shooters on my wrists, but my suit is buried beneath textbooks in my backpack by the door. There's no way I can reach it in time.
"I think we both know why I'm here, Pete," Toomes's voice is low, gravelly, and my heart thunders in my chest at the murderous intent I can see in every inch of his face. "I warned you. I gave you every opportunity, but you couldn't let it go, could you? It's a shame. Clearly, family doesn't mean as much to you as it does me."
"Mr. Toomes," I begin, my hands raising, palms out. "Think of Liz. Think of your wife. What is it going to do to them if you become a murderer? Liz-"
"Don't you say her name again," Toomes growls viciously, his expression lethal, "Don't talk about my family, when you obviously don't give two shits about your own. If you did, I wouldn't be here, would I?"
My senses are going haywire, sending alarm bells down each one of my fractured nerves.
"You ruined everything for me and my family. You tore us apart," his voice shakes with the force of his rage. "That's not something I can forgive, and I certainly can't forget. So you're going to watch me kill your Aunt. And then I'm going to end you, Peter."
I can see his muscles coil, ready to move in seconds, and I see how the scene will play out in my mind. Toomes will stand, pull the gun from his jacket, and shoot May right there on the couch.
No. No.
I move right as he does, leaping up and forward, my hands latching onto the ceiling fan. Both my feet slam into his chest as he rises, his hand moving beneath his coat, and his body goes flying into the wall. Toomes lets out a grunt of pain as the impact cracks the plaster.
I have already seized May by the hand, and we are tearing out of the apartment. All I can think about is getting her out, getting her safe.
Toomes lets out a savage roar as I slam the door shut behind us, and we sprint for the elevator. Her grip on my hand is almost painfully tight, and her chest is heaving with panic. "Peter-"
Steps from the elevator, there is a massive screeching sound that scrapes against my eardrums like vicious talons, and then a blast of heat blooms against my back. I glance behind us, at the carnage of our completely shattered door in pieces on the burning hallway floor.
Get May out, get May out, get May out-
I skid to a halt and shove my terrified Aunt into the elevator, wincing as she falls to her hands and knees from the force. I lunge for the button, and the doors begin to close. Quickly, I toss my phone inside with her as she whirls, scrambling to her feet. Her face is horrified, her eyes wide with panic. "PETER!" she screeches, lurching forward to stop the elevator doors from closing.
"I'm sorry, May!" I tell her just as they slam shut between us with a ding, and the elevator descends.
The back of my neck prickles violently, and my spider-sense jolts through my body so quickly, I spin. Toomes is standing at the edge of the hall, blood trickling from a scratch on his temple, the alien weapon aimed straight at me.