Author's Note: I have no idea where this came from.
I Walk the Line
Chapter 1
Even without the frantic call from a so-called 'guy in the chair', the crash site of a plane that was supposed to have landed in upstate New York half an hour ago has Spider-Man written all over it.
When Happy Hogan leads the investigation team-cum-cleanup crew towards the wreckage on the burning beach, he already has an idea what to expect. Worst case scenario, his men dig up the charred corpse of a teenage boy and the next few months see stolen technology in supercharged weapons on the black market. Best case scenario, they recover the arc reactors with minimal losses and receive a gift wrapped Vulture as part of a wannabe Avenger's résumé.
In the end, what actually happens turns out to be a little… anticlimactic.
The hijacked cargo is found stacked and piled neatly in a single heap. An unconscious Adrian Toomes lies propped up against one of the wooden crates, not a note or single strand of webbing in sight.
"I'm not picking up a location, not even a continent."
"Caller ID?"
The look on Bucky's face confirms Steve's suspicion before he even shakes his head.
In a hidden apartment somewhere in Brooklyn, an innocuous looking cellphone continues to buzz and vibrate on the table. Whoever's on the line has been there for almost ten minutes now. The device was a secure means of communication with their Wakandan allies; aside from a select few individuals, no one else should have been able to reach them through it.
"Just take the call." Bucky returns his attention to the laptop in front of him and resumes typing. "I'll keep trying to trace it, maybe we'll have better luck then."
Nodding, Steve presses 'Accept' and brings the cellphone to his ear. "Hello?"
"Find him," a voice says before rattling out an address.
Steve frowns. "Who is this? How did you get this number?"
"Find him."
"What are you talking about? Who are you?"
"Ben."
And then the line goes dead.
May Parker lowers her newspaper at the sound of her nephew's door opening. "Good afternoon, sleepyhead. How was homecoming last night?"
"S'okay," Peter yawns, shuffling his way to the kitchen to fix himself some toast.
"Just 'okay'? Did you have fun with Liz?"
Peter tenses slightly at the name. "Didn't even get to dance with her," he says after a few bites, and the sheer amount of misery in his tone makes May's face fall in sympathy.
"Is that why you looked so dead on your feet when you got back last night? You were pretty quiet then. What happened?"
"It's complicated. I don't wanna talk about it." Shoving the last piece of crust into his mouth, Peter slides off the chair and picks up his bag. "I'm heading to Ned's. Love you May."
The curt responses from her normally talkative nephew are telltale signs that something is definitely off, but May decides to let it go, at least for now. "Bring an extra jacket with you. It's a little chilly today," she tells him instead.
Peter swipes a discarded sweater off the couch before leaving, and May makes a mental note to call someone about the thermostat when the apartment seems to warm up again.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Hit me up on tumblr at fickleminder if you wanna chat :)