Peter dropped Adrian to the ground before flopping down beside him. When the Vulture had almost blown himself up, he couldn't bring himself to let the villain die. After all, the man was only resorting to crime to provide for his family.

The wreckage of the plane burned slowly around them. As they lay there, Peter gripped his shoulder. Toomes had given him quite the beating in his wingsuit, and, even with his enhanced healing, he would have to take it easy for a couple days. He was just lucky to be alive, losing count of how many times he had nearly died that night.

Once he felt he could move without too much pain, he stood up and picked up his mask from where he had dropped it. Picking it up, he slipped it into his pocket. It wouldn't do him any good to get spotted with it off. With that out of the way, he dragged the Vulture over to a pile of undamaged crates and webbed him to it with his remaining web fluid. Scribbling a quick note to Happy, he stuck it right next to Adrian's face.

The man had been quiet the entire time he had done this, resigned to his fate. Peter honestly wasn't expecting this. He had expected the man to put up more of a fight. Not that he wasn't glad, there was only so much he could take.

A sudden smaller explosion shook the beach, knocking Peter off his feet. Stumbling to his feet, he glanced out across the flaming sand. One of the many crates was glowing a weird, multicolored light and pulsing rhythmically. Not only that, it was making his spider-sense go crazy. Being the firm watcher of movies that he had been growing up, that usually meant something was going to explode.

He had two options.

The first, was that he could drag Adrian and his pallet of crates away from the box. A quick calculation derailed that suggestion. He had webbed the villain's legs to the ground. His own home recipe was quite time consuming for even him to tear through, and time wasn't an asset that was on his side.

That left option two, the one he liked the least. This one involved him moving the crate away from Toomes. While it involved a lot more personal risk, it was also the safest for the Vulture. In his prime, he was confident he could get it out of the way and still have time to escape. But, with all the hits he had taken earlier, his confidence had taken quite the dip.

'Come on, Pete! You're wasting time!'

Listening to his subconscious, Peter hobbled over to the crate. The dull throb in the base of his skull increased in intensity the closer he got to it. When he was right next to it, it felt as if someone had taken a jackhammer to his cranium. He ignored the pain, however, and grabbed the metal box with both hands.

At the contact, the crate began shaking violently. A bright flash overtook his vision before everything went black.

Alright, so I know this is a little out there with how he gets to Remnant, but I thought it made sense. The plane was filled with old Avengers stuff, so why can't one of Thor's old Asgardian relics transport him there. I mean, it makes as much sense as some of the other stories I've read.

I know this is short, but I wanted to see if yet another Spider-Man story would take off. I'm basing it off the Homecoming Spider-Man just so I get a clean slate. That way, I can do lots of his most iconic moments in this story.

I hope you enjoyed this little chunk.