The first thing Toomes feels is foggy. This is followed by variations of foggy. Painful foggy. Sharp foggy. Grimy foggy. Painful and sharp foggy. It's like trying to surface in a pool when the water is made out of sand. He keeps trying to surface anyway, becoming more aware of his body and his surroundings before he can bring himself to open his eyes.
He's inside, he knows that much. Dry and warm. The only sounds he can make out are someone moving around nearby, and the quiet, occasional flicks of a book page.
Fading in and out of a shallow, lucid sleep, it isn't another hour at best until Adrian manages to open his eyes. The lights are dimmed and the darkness is easy to adjust to.
A small light from nearby grabs his attention.
Straining to turn his head, he sees Rhino a few feet away. The man is hunched over a book, engrossed in it. A small table lamp is all he has to illuminate the pages.
Adrian croaks out his name and Rhino shoots up from the chair, at his side in a second. He grabs Adrian's hand in his own, squeezing it tightly.
"You're awake!" He shouts, causing Adrian to wince.
Rhino turns his head and shouts back into the warehouse, "HE'S AWAKE! DOC COME OVER!"
Soon the pudgy 20-something is shuffling his way around various crates, making a bee-line for the table that Adrian is on. When he sees Adrian the man is stuck between impressed and incredulous.
"I'm gonna be honest." He mutters, "I thought you were just gonna be a vegetable."
Adrian yawns at him in response, resting back down and weakly tugging a cover up to his chin. Otto frowns, huffing and moving closer to the old man.
"Uh? I think I deserve a 'thank you' at the very least?"
Rhino's voice rings out, "Kravinoff did blood transfusion. And I was donor!"
"I still helped!"
Adrian tunes them out and is soon back asleep. Otto and Rhino argue on for a while until they hear his snores. Sharing glares, the two go silent. Otto returns to his work elsewhere, and Rhino returns to his book.
It takes Adrian three more days of constant rest before he can get up and walk around again. His walk is more of a limp, but the Doc was nice enough to make him some makeshift crutches to get around on for now.
It's Rhino who tells him it was Kravinoff who knew how to do the procedure. Kravinoff who tested his blood and found Adrian's blood type – but more importantly, that Rhino was a universal donor. Adrian sniffs him out the moment he's back on his feet and finds the hunter perched on top of a crate, cleaning his favorite sniper rifle.
"Hey." Adrian calls, craning his head back. Kravinoff is laying on the crate like a proud lion on his favorite rock, stretched out and lazy in the mid-afternoon.
Kravinoff greets him with a grunt and a nod. No surprise there. Adrian can tell he's not a guy who would appreciate a 'thank you', so he settles for something else.
"I owe you one."
Another grunt. Another nod. Mutual understanding. Adrian returns a short nod and is on his way.
As he's wandering back to his own little corner amid the crates, something tall and silvery catches his eyes. Hobbling awkwardly on his crutches, Adrian manages to weave around the jungle of stolen equipment. Waiting for him is an enormous silver and black suit that is being suspended by several chains from the ceiling. It reminds Adrian of the Hulkbuster armor that had shown up in Johannesburg, but slimmer in design.
Apart from being more humanoid shaped, with a narrower waist and longer legs, the suit has a strange, boxy head with a large horn fashioned out of thick metal plating on the top.
The little shit really made it into a fucking Rhino.
He couldn't blame it all on the kid. They were growing up with their Thors and their Iron Men, it was bound to rub off on everything they did. Hell, as long as the suit worked – and he was sure it would – it wasn't his place to pass judgment. He'd accepted Vulture after a while and had just ran with it too.
"Pretty badass right?" Otto asks, approaching him from behind, moving up to stand beside him.
Adrian nods, looking at the Rhino suit. "So what's he supposed to do in that thing? Punch bank vaults?"
"Well, yeah – that's where they keep stuff. You give us air superiority but we're still just a bunch of guys otherwise. You might be able to fly off to safety but Rhino and Gargan can't. This Rhino suit will be the bulldozer that clears the way for any future heists. Entry and exit won't be cause for issue. Plus, he can lift several tons with this armor. No more hauling or dragging around on the ground level."
"You're really buying into all this stuff?" Adrian asks, lowering his voice as he looks over at Otto. "You really think we're gonna have some kind of long term hold on a city?"
The young man seems surprised at his question, and not entirely sure what to say in response. He glances back and forth, a bit nervous under Adrian's long stare, before answering quietly.
"Well...yeah. I mean...look at how the world is now. Things aren't going back to normal. If they were, they would have by now, don't you think? There's less and less radio chatter from cops every day. They're realizing, and rightly so, that things aren't getting better."
Adrian sniffs, shrugging and taking out a pack of gum from his pocket, sticking a piece into his mouth. "After all the shit we've seen...monsters comin' out of the sky, Thunder gods, giant wheel things hangin' over New York...I think we're kidding ourselves if we're ever gonna assume something iisn't/i possible at this point. That includes things going back to normal. That includes Iron Man and Thor and all their heavy hitters suddenly showing back up like they were just on a short vacation."
Otto listens, and for once, doesn't have a quick response. He mulls over Adrian's words, considering them for a while as he stares at the Rhino suit he's spent days slaving over.
"I mean, you might be right." He relents, voice hushed. Otto glances around them to make sure no one is listening in before he looks back at Adrian and speaks in a whisper.
"I didn't want this, you know? What happened..I...didn't want it to happen. I really didn't. But it happened, and I'm here now, and there's no way out except Gargan's way."
"That's not a way out, that's just digging yourself deeper in."
"I know, I know that. But what's the alternative? Try to live a normal life? There is no normal. Half the world is gone, the other half is barely capable of functioning. Go back to Sing Sing?" Otto chuckles at the prospect of that, but Adrian can see the pain on the kid's face. "I'm never going back there. Do I look like a fighter to you? Gargan was the only reason I didn't wind up in the prison morgue, and he did it for the express purpose of me having to owe him down the line. A few months later, the 2nd Incident happens...and here we are."
"Here we are." Adrian echoes. "You ever think about trying to find your family?"
At the very mention of 'family', Otto gains a hard, cold expression. That's all Adrian needs to see to know to not bring that subject up again.
"What's Gargan got on you?" Otto asks after a while, "What's keeping you here?"
"All he's got on me is a kill switch, kiddo. You think I wouldn't be taking those wings cross-country right now if I didn't have that hanging over my head? Gargan suspects it. He's not stupid." Adrian pauses, then narrows his eyes at Otto, leaning forward. "If you lend me a hand, I can get both of us untied from this web he's trapped us in."
Adrian gives Otto a pointed look, but the kid just stares back at him. It takes him a moment, but he seems to pick up what Adrian is implying. He quickly shakes his head then, swallowing.
"No," He whispers angrily, "Absolutely not. We do anything to Gargan and his army of criminal BFFs are going to come after us."
"Then deactivate the kill switch and we can both get out of here. I'll get you out, Otto. Trust me kid, this isn't a life you were made for!" Adrian whispers fiercely.
"The kill switch is too deep inside of the wings to just deactivate. You'd have to take them apart. Besides, I'm not just going to risk my own well being here. You think I trust you to actually help me? You're a criminal, a career criminal for that matter. This is our reality now, and you need to get used to it, Vulture."
Adrian sneers at him, sucking air through his teeth. Well, he tried.
"Just get used to having your head on a swivel, kid." He mutters, then glances back at the Rhino suit. "Did he have you install a kill switch on that suit too?"
Otto pauses, the briefest look of shame moving across his face. "...Yeah."
"What about your arms? The ones you made?"
"No!" Otto says, a little louder than he means to. He quickly quiets down, glaring at Adrian. "Those are some of the finest pieces of work I've ever done, I'd never-"
"He's just gonna find a different sword to string over your head, kid." Adrian interrupts, waving a hand in the air between them. "Trust me. Men like Gargan know how to exploit people. You might be enjoying this little science session because he's giving you all the tools and materials you need to make this stuff...but you're making it for him. The arms are yours, sure. But they're so he can achieve his own ends with your help. None of this is charity, kid. Nothing's for free."
"Don't call me 'kid', and I know that, Toomes. I'm not stupid. But I'm here – and I'm...I'm sticking with Gargan. Like I'd ever get a chance to create these things otherwise. Things might not work out exactly according to plan, but there's nothing waiting for me out there that's better than this."
Adrian watches him for a while before relenting, inclining his head to Otto and turning, leaving the kid and the masterpiece he's created by themselves.
Adrian sits out for the majority of the work needed for the big move. The loading of the equipment is left to the others, mainly Rhino.
Otto had presented the Rhino suit to him, fully completed, and Adrian had barely seen Aleksei out of it since. The man adored. The raw power it gave him was almost scary, but at least it was in the hands of someone that Adrian felt he could trust. He'd have been much more worried if it had been Gargan in that suit.
The whirring gears and intricate machinery of the Rhino suit barely make a sound as it carries crates in and out of the warehouse. It's certainly a masterpiece, there's no doubt about that. Aleksei had taken a few hours to really get used to it, but Otto had called it idiot-proof. Whether Otto's description was correct or not, it didn't matter. Aleksei had gotten the use of it down as if he'd been born for the thing.
As the others worked, Adrian struggled with his recovery. He was old, and only getting older, and he had to be honest with himself that injuries like gunshot wounds – even superficial ones – were going to take more out of him than they would have ten, or even five years ago.
Otto had been kind enough to create a leg brace for him, something he whipped up in a day. He'd said several times that he had just been extraordinarily bored and it had nothing to do with him feeling bad about Adrian having to hobble around on crutches. The leg brace isn't half bad – it's small and slim, fits perfectly and takes the majority of the stress from his leg and knee.
Adrian really feels his age when he says it makes him feel like Mad Max and Otto just stares at him, shrugging.
"You know, Mad Max right? He always had a leg brace because in the first movie-"
"He wore a leg brace? Wait - There's more than one Mad Max? I thought Fury Road was the only one."
"What?!" Adrian thanks God that Mason isn't here to hear this. The man would've had a coronary right there from someone even daring to not understand the masterpiece that was the Road Warrior. "Come on – Road Warrior? Thunderdome? Even the first one isn't half bad, it's just real low budget. These are staples of cinematic culture."
"Hearing the words 'cinematic culture' even come out of your mouth is weird. You sound like a plumber talking about genetic engineering. I can't take anything in regards to the arts or culture seriously when you say it."
"Doris used to love movies. She got me really hooked on the ones she loved, she'd talk about them for hours. Sometimes we'd sit out on the back porch and just chat..." Adrian trails off, realizing that Otto is beginning to look uncomfortable.
The conversation reaches an awkward halt there, and Otto gives a weak smile and nod before quickly shuffling off.
Adrian realizes that he's speaking about Doris in the past tense now. He shrinks back to his corner and remains there for the rest of the day. His injury had provided him temporary distraction, but now the thoughts return anew. The sting, and the dread are as fresh and as terrible as they had been when he first felt them.
Looking around the warehouse, Adrian's blood runs cold and he feels an awful tug in his chest.
Just run – just run for the wings. If you can fly fast enough, maybe you can get far enough away and the kill switch signal won't reach you.
Fear and worry is quickly replaced by rage. Rage at Gargan for the kill switch, for knowing that he would have to keep Adrian in check otherwise of course he would've ran.
The wings are the only practical way he'd ever be able to cover the ground to try and find Doris and Liz. Gargan was taking that chance from him. Gargan was tearing away any opportunity he'd have to try and find his wife and daughter, if they were still alive.
He'd buried the hatred and impatience and sheer poison he felt toward the man and he had to force himself to keep doing so. But he knew – as any good opportunist did – that an upcoming change meant new chances he could benefit from. As ridiculous as he thought Gargan's wish to run a criminal organization in the heart of a broken city was, it still presented Adrian with the opportunity he'd been waiting for.
Pulling his jacket tighter around himself, Adrian sank his face down into the thick, soft fur collar. The long fur rose to cover the lower half of his face as he stared across the newly empty warehouse.
Mac Gargan stood near the door, talking with two of his thugs, laughing with them as they joked around. No doubt they were all excited to get to New York City. Excited for the criminal opportunities they were going to succeed in with the technology that Adrian and Kravinoff had labored to retrieve.
Go ahead and laugh, Adrian seethed as he stared at Gargan. His back was to the corner of his little space in the warehouse, and the lighting inside had been dimmed. He was easily hidden and could've just as easily been mistaken for sleeping. But he wasn't. He was watching, and he was waiting. When Gargan was at his most vulnerable, when he least expected it, when he needed a helping hand the most – Adrian would strike.
