I Walk the Line
Chapter 2
"So that's it? You're telling me the plane just… dropped out of the sky?"
Adrian Toomes leans back in his seat, handcuffed wrists raising slightly. "Like I said, something dislodged the vacuum seal. I head outside to check and the next thing I know, the whole damn thing's taking a nosedive towards the ground."
"The trajectory's off. There's no way it could have hit the beach without slamming into half of Brooklyn along the way."
"Whatever caused it to crash also steered it away to the side. I saw the wing flaps being pulled up."
Colonel Rhodes raises a skeptical eyebrow. "You realize this is sounding more like a half-baked ghost story, right?"
"Might explain why something yanked me back when I was about to take off with the goods." Adrian shrugs helplessly. "I swear I was alone on that beach. Then my flight suit malfunctioned and exploded. I blacked out after that."
A low whistle. "Someone up there must really hate you."
The Vulture flinches almost imperceptibly, a somewhat remorseful look flashing across his face. It's the first true expression he's shown, shattering the cool façade he put on since the start of the questioning. "Listen… there's this warehouse my team and I worked in for a while. Base of operations and all that. It's gone now, reduced to rubble, but you might want to check it out."
"If you're trying to lighten your sentence here ––"
"I'm not. Just want to ease my conscience, for what it's worth."
Searching for a needle in a haystack would be easier if they knew what the needle was, but in the end it takes all of fifteen minutes before they find it.
"I've got a pulse. It's faint, and it won't last long if he stays there. You lift, I'll pull him out."
For the first time in his godforsaken life, Bucky is grateful for his cybernetic arm as he heaves a shipping container just high enough that Steve can get to whoever's trapped under it. From the corner of his eye, he spots a discarded red mask with a pair of goggles on the damp ground, and his stomach begins to sink.
Steve works quickly, not quickly enough, dragging a teenager out from under the debris and into open air. The homemade suit looks nothing like the sleek high-tech one they saw at the airport all those months ago, but there's no mistaking who's in it.
He's just a kid, is Bucky's first thought as he stares at the limp, broken body cradled in Steve's arms.
Fucking Stark, is his second.
"Porn! I still can't believe it. Of all the excuses I could've come up with…" Ned whines dejectedly. "Looks like I'll be seeing you in detention for a while. You think Michelle will sketch me too if I ask nicely?"
Busy swapping books at his locker, Peter hums distractedly in response.
The hallways are abuzz with chatter and gossip, students trading stories from Homecoming night, mourning the start of another school week, whispering about Liz's father getting arrested just the day before. It doesn't help that Flash has been spreading word about Peter abandoning Liz at the dance, though none of her friends has given him shit about it. Yet.
"- heard he stole from the Avengers themselves -"
"- saw that plane crash on Coney Island, it was so sick -"
"- the ferry too, split it right in half -"
"- bet she was in on it -"
BANG
Ned jumps half a foot when Peter viciously slams his door shut. His lips are pursed and his knuckles white, fists trembling with the effort not to put a dent in the row of lockers. No one seems to pay them any attention, walking past the commotion as though it never happened.
"Sorry," Peter murmurs, seeing the alarmed look on his best friend's face. "We should get to class."
"It's cool man. You've had a rough past couple of days." Ned holds his hand out for their signature handshake, a peace offering, only to drop it when Peter turns and walks away.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Hit me up on tumblr at fickleminder if you wanna chat :)