The Spider's fight in Manhattan - Chapter 8
If someone had told Peter that morning, that he'd be fighting alongside the Avengers just because he followed a tingling of his Spidey-senses after school... Yeah, sure, he'd had a couple of unreal run-ins with Tony Stark over the last two weeks, but this... He was literally helping out the Avengers. And he was shaking in his boots for every second of it.
Mr. Stark had his eyes on him expectantly as if he was supposed to know how to get them out of this pickle. He'd glued the dude to the girl. It seemed like the obvious solution, or at least the only one that had jumped to Peter's mind in the moment. That thing that was still firmly lodged in the dude's had, well, if his Spidey-senses hadn't already made the hairs on his arm stand up the Avengers' reactions to him would have been enough to know. It was some kind of weapon and the dude had better not drop it. So, Peter had made sure he couldn't. But that was it. This wasn't his mission. He had no idea how to even be on a mission. Also, a sincere "thank you, Spider-Man" would have been nice, but instead Black Widow looked at him as if she was going to murder him in cold blood as soon as he'd turn his back. Once again, Peter was thankful for the mask that covered the shade of white his face had surely turned.
"Nat, why don't you stay with the girl. We'll be right back." Peter gulped. Stark walked up to him and shoved him out of earshot of the two webbed up figures.
"What did you do?"
Peter bit his lip. His voice was stuck in his throat and couldn't easily betray him. He tried to swallow his insecurity. "You mean, besides trying to help you guys out?"
Stark took hold of his arm and turned Peter to face him. "What did you do with his hand, genius!"
"I..." Peter shifted his weight, very conscious of Iron Man's hold of his arm. "I made sure he can't flex his hand and then immobilized him."
"Why can we not just get the web off her face? Is it going to unravel the hold on him if we do?"
"I... I don't know."
"How can you not know?"
"I'm not usually the one who unties them," Peter stammered
"So you're telling me that you have no idea how your... your equipment works?" the frustration apparent in Stark's voice.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I was just trying to -"
"Yeah, I know. I know." Stark exhaled. "Tell me what you do know. What would you expect to happen when we free her."
"There is tension on the strands. They balance each other out. If you cut one side, the stress on the individual strings changes and it would probably at least partially implode on itself. I don't think it'd be enough for him to free his hand and drop… the thing. Whatever it is. But I think... I think the web would relax enough for him to be able to crush the vial and I assume... I assume we don't want that."
"No..." Stark let go of him and rubbed his face with the still gauntlet-less hand, "We don't want that," he mumbled under his breath. "Could just cut off the hand. He can't flex it if it's not attached to his arm."
Peter's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Not that anyone would know, thanks to the mask. Apparently, his shock was obvious enough to register with Stark though, for he rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. "It was a joke. Get a grip."
Peters jaw slammed shut as heat rose up to his cheeks. Of course. Of course, it was a joke. He'd known that if he hadn't been so thoroughly on edge. This was Iron Man in front of him. What the hell had he been thinking? He stuck his nose into Avengers business. Him!.
"Well, what would you do? Any suggestions on how we get out of this one?"
He didn't even know what he was doing half the time and now Iron Man expected him to solve this? Peter just stared at the ground, scratching his arm, mumbling some incomprehensible mash-up of "Don't know" and "Sorry" and "not sure".
Stark turned away from him with a huff and stared at the girl and guy as if they held the answer. A light shiver went down Peter's spine. The Black Widow was approaching them.
"Cap wants an update. Wanda and Vision caught one of them, Steve and Sam are still on the chase."
Stark rubbed his hand across his face once more. "He's going to somehow put this mess on me, isn't he?"
Wait, what now? His eyes shot up to the pair of them and found that Black Widow's eyes rested on himself. Not a single muscle in her face moved to give away her thoughts as she turned her back towards Mr. Stark and spoke in a low voice. Yeah, that would not be good enough to keep Peter from listening in. Advanced hearing FTW!
"Have you been meeting up with the Spider-dude? Without telling us?"
Stark shook his head. "I checked him out after his run-in with Potts. That's it."
"Tony, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to keep you in their good graces if you keep stuff like this to yourself!"
"I'm not consciously excluding anyone from some kind of secret mission here. I was looking out for Peeper, that's it. Not a big deal."
At that, the Black Widow turned back towards him. Peter's eyes shot back over to the cocooned people and his hand sprung up scratching his chin. Was this how people looked like when they were super unsuspicious and total not listening to conversations they weren't supposed to hear? His hands were sweating. Well, not just his hands. Heat rushed through his body and he'd never felt more obvious in his whole life. He could feel her eyes on him, how she studied him. Then she turned her back and faced Stark again, her voice back to a regular level.
"What's the plan here, Tony. The girl is freaking out."
"We need to get the vial without giving him a chance to smash it in the process. It doesn't seem to be an option to free her before we deal with him because it's unclear what it will do to the immobilizing effect the webs have on his hand if we loosen them enough to get her out first."
"Cut off the hand and be done with it?"
Peter's eyes shot up at both of them as Black Widow just gave a shrug. "Shouldn't have been running around with biochemical weapons if he wants to keep all his limbs."
"Yeah, I don't think cutting off hands in the middle of the street between Lexington and 3rd is the kind of publicity the Avengers need right now." Peter gulped. Surely bad press wasn't the only thing that would hold Stark back from that particular approach… right? "We just need to find a way to secure the hand. Really shouldn't be all this complicated."
Peter hastily spoke up at this. Anything that would have everyone walk away with all their body parts attached. "He can't drop it, even if the web loosens when the girl's freed. His hand is webbed up tightly enough to prevent that. So, all we need to worry about is him not closing his hand. I could work some web around his fingers, pull them back. That should keep him from smashing it."
He kept his eyes on Tony, who first nodded and then shrugged at Black Widow.
"Sounds like a plan to me."
Peter could feel the Black Widows stare on his very skin. She didn't even try to keep her voice down this time. "Are you seriously going to trust this dude, Tony?"
Stark shrugged again. "No reason, why he should get involved just to screw us over." His eyebrows shot up. Oh god, was that a question? Was Peter expecting to come up with an answer?
"I... no... I won't. Of course not, Mr. Stark."
The woman's expression didn't change though. "Never heard that one before..."
Stark just ignored her as he turned back to the two webbed up figures and beckoned Peter to follow along.
"Spiderling, your turn."
Peter stepped up to the guy, carefully spun out some web-strings. His arms were low and close to his body. The web shooters really didn't need to be on display for the two Avengers behind him. Black Widow stepped around the pair to look at Peter's work intently as he slowly worked the web through the layers in place around the guy's hand. He went about it slowly so he wouldn't damage them.
Once everything was in place, he held onto the web and pulling at it just enough so the dude wouldn't be able to flex his hand.
"Alright. This should do it. You can get her out."
"Should I do it?" Black Widow shot another look at Stark. Nobody could see him roll his eyes. Her confidence in him was overwhelming…
"It'll be fine. Just free her and then we can get the vial." Her hostility was getting on Peter's nerves. He'd done nothing but help people for months. And he'd just saved their asses. Why was she insistent to just think the worst of him?!
Mr. Stark used a blade from his suit to cut the girl free. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat when she was escorted off to the waiting EMT by the Widow. He had been pretty confident about the plan. Still, the relief that filled him when things worked out was soothing. Peter and Stark were in the middle of freeing the vial when she was back. Her cold voice ordered Peter to stay away.
"Chill, Nat."
"We don't need him this close by." She turned to Peter again. "I said, you stay back!"
"Fine, fine. I'm not even..." Peter huffed and retreated a few steps, his grip still firm on the web that secured the guy's hand. When her voice reached him again it had turned into the same low whisper as before. She might not want him to head this, but thank you, Spidey-senses!
"When we got this sorted, you need to bring the Spider-dude in! Steve will want to debrief him. It'll earn you a few points if you help him out with this, without being prompted by them."
Peter's eyes shot over to Stark who didn't seem to show a reaction at all.
"Tony!"
"I heard you. Little busy here." Stark's teeth were clenched.
Was Stark just in deep concentration on the job at hand or was his tone in response to her? Nevertheless, he couldn't help but gulp at the prospect of being brought in by Iron Man. They had a deal, that Stark owed him. A deal that Peter had technically never asked for but that sure would come in handy right about now. A deal that was made between the two of them that Stark could probably either outright deny or just not give a shit about. This was his own team asking for Peter's head on a platter. Peter's pulse jumped at the implications of that. He needed to get out of there as soon as possible!
The second Peter saw the vial safe in Stark's hands, he shot a web at the building behind himself, dropped the web he had held all this time and lunged himself off the ground. The Widow called after him, but his mind was fixed on his escape. He climbed up the building. Think Peter! How would he get out of there fast? And most importantly without the Avengers on his tail all the way back to Queen?
He'd have to take a detour, let them think he went into a different direction before he would- Erm… was that a kite floating behind him? A miniature glider? He turned, one hand and both legs still glued to the building. Something hovered right in front of him, that enabled a kind of scanner? Peter reacted instinctively and webbed up the kite, which dropped to the ground immediately. Yeah, he needed to go! He launched into a swing to make his way down the street towards the river when the Falcon crashed into him in midair and left Peter squashed between the wall of the building and the Avenger. He struggled to free his arm. He needed to get himself out from underneath the Falcon.
"Don't you put your hands on my stuff!"
"Technically, my hands weren't on it." Peter pushed him off. His arms free, he was off and swung further along the building. Yeah, he really needed to get out of there! He shot a web at one of the buildings on the other side of the street. South! He would take a detour through Brooklyn. He would shake the Falcon off somewhere. Mid-swing he felt his web snap. He fell like a stone. His quick reflexes saved him just in time and he managed to catch himself before he crashed into the ground. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Stark and Black Widow hadn't moved and the Falcon was still hovering above him.
"There's nowhere to run, Spider. Better safe us all the headache and just come quietly!"
"That doesn't really work for me. Maybe another day..." He shot a series of webs towards the Falcon, more as a distraction to give himself some cover to run. He kept walking backward and still fired webs at him. Ok, new strategy. He would have to stay closer to the ground. That would give the guy less of an advantage over him. He was too vulnerable if he climbed up high with the Avenger being able to fly. Peter turned and ran around the street corner where he squarely smashed into what felt like a brick wall but turned out to be another Avenger.
"Not so fast, Spider."
"Sorry, Captain. Fast is the only speed I know." He shackled Captain America's hands with a few webs, turned in time to shoot another web towards the Falcon and then sprinted down 3rd Avenue. With a low swing, he brought himself to the other side of the street and ducked into the next street. Swinging through the streets was faster than running and Manhattan's street canyons were optimal for that. He never hovered more than a few feet above the ground, only swung higher if there were cars or other obstacles he needed to avoid. But the Falcon still followed behind him.
Think, Peter. How did one lose a bird? How the hell could he lose the bird?
He shot a glance over his shoulder. He had a bit of a head start, but the Bird-Guy was only a few seconds behind him.
If he could find an open door. He wouldn't be able to follow him into a building if he'd just close the door in his face! And then... then... creep out somewhere? He swung around another corner. But if he would pick the wrong building he might be trapped...
Peter's heart was racing, not from physical exhaustion but from nerves. He could hear its beat in his ears. If they caught him… If they found out who he was... For a second his thoughts lingered on the prospect of being interrogated by Captain America and the Falcon and he could feel his body shake in response. His eyes suddenly stung with tears. Fear. He took a deep breath. Focus, Peter!
"They're not gonna catch you. They're not gonna catch you." He repeated it quietly like a mantra while he cut around corners, crossed over the traffic on the streets and willed his mind to focus on finding a way out of this. He shot another glance over his shoulder.
Those wings were huge. He could only really glide through wider streets…
Peter had no idea where he even was. He needed to find a narrow alleyway. Fast. A small gap between two buildings. Something, anything he could slip through where the Bird-Guy couldn't follow. He had swung around two more corners till he spotted a narrow gap between two buildings. He made a beeline for it and fit through the narrow gap comfortably. He hurried down the path, then climbed the wall and halted in the middle of it. His breath was fast and shallow. Again, nerves more than exhaustion. He needed to calm the hell down. Pressed against a window, his feet rested on the sill. His eyes darted back and forth between the front and the back of the building as well as the top. The Bird-Guy - that's what Peter would call him from now on, that name was a lot less scary than "The Falcon" - would try to approach him somehow.
Sure enough, Peter could sense movement on the top of the building. It was getting darker but he had no illusions. The Bird-Guy was bound to have some form of technology - probably Stark-tech - that would allow him to see Peter even in pitch darkness.
"What's up, Spider? Getting tired? Need a little rest?"
Peter tried to slow down his breathing further. He couldn't let the Bird-Guy rile him up. Think, Peter! Now what?
"I mean sure, we can just wait here for backup to show up and drag you out of there. Or you can make it easier on yourself and just come in nice and quietly."
Bird-Guy mentioned backup because he was wanted to make Peter run again. He was more likely to grab him once he came out of the ally. Peter knew that much. It wouldn't work. Probably. The possibility of backup Avengers was not to be taken lightly. He couldn't sit things out on that window sill. But if Peter would manage to lure him down to him somehow... The narrow ally would be an advantage for him over the Bird-Guy.
"What are you hassling on me for? Shouldn't you be looking for the terrorist henchman?"
"I have my orders and right now that means bringing you in!"
"Well, if you're gonna be doing as good a job on me as you have on the bad guys, I guess I don't need to be worried!"
Silence from above him. Did he just hit a nerve there?
"Seriously, two of you couldn't keep track of one guy running away on foot?"
"I was gonna be nice about bringing you in, Spider. There is a less gentle version of this if you want to push it!"
Peter's pulse quickened some more. This was insane. He was so dead.
"Gentle? You took a shot at me!"
"At your sticky stuff. Believe me, you'd feel the difference if I had been aiming at you."
"Is that what you told the terrorist before you lost him?"
The Bird-Guy leaned over the edge of the building above him, staring down into the ally way.
"You really are pissing me off now. Last chance to come quietly or I'll come and get you myself!"
Peter stayed quiet. Had that really been enough to provoke the Bird-Dude into close combat? In the narrow gap between these two buildings, Peter's strength and agility would be a massive advantage.
Only a few moments later the Bird-Dude actually shot down into the narrow gap. The window Peter was standing in would have shielded him at least partially from the attack, but all he really needed was a clear shot at the dude. As he sailed down towards Peter, his web caught the Bird-Guy, enclosed him like a sack of flour and with a second web Peter glued the bundle to the side of the wall.
"Thanks for that, Bird-Dude. You mentioned your Avenger buddies are coming, so I'm sure they'll pick you off the wall in no time."
"Sooner or later, I'll get you, you little freak!"
Peter's face fell a little. That was a bit of a cheap shot, but his adrenaline urged him on and he skipped out of the narrow alley. There could actually be Avenger back up on the way and he needed to move!
He had been hiding on a lower level fire escape a few blocks away from where he'd left the Bird-Dude for about an hour and a half now. His body felt stiff and frozen but his heart still hadn't slowed all the way down yet. Just the thought that he would soon need to get up and check if the coast was clear, sped up his pulse and let the hair on his arms stand up straight. The Avengers worked with tech he couldn't even dream up. They were bound to find him. It was only a matter of time. As soon as he moved some kind of motion sensor would probably be alerted. His Spidey-senses still kept flaring up. They were still looking for him. He knew they were still out for his blood.
Every time his thoughts went down that path his heart rate quickened again and he tried to think of Delmar's sandwiches and his warm comfy bedroom to calm his nerves. It took another 20 minutes until his need to get home overtook his anxiety and he slowly climbed down into the alleyway. He wasn't sure where exactly he was. He had to find a street sign or at least a clear view of one of Manhattan's famous landmarks, that would give him an indication of where he was and in which direction he needed to head. He would have to stay close to the ground. Maybe he could even climb down into the subway tunnels and crawl along the ceiling to get back to Queens. Then he turned a corner and ran into something. Or rather someone.
For a second he had a flashback to his earlier bump in with Captain America, but this guy was a lot softer and went right to the ground on impact.
"Oh gosh, sorry, dude! My bad, I didn't mean to -"
Hands grabbed him by the shoulders and the surprising turn of events made him freeze up just enough that they managed to push him down to the ground. He rolled himself over. As he aimed his web shooters up at his attackers a few steel cap boots made contact with his ribs. Someone grabbed his feet and dragged him across the ground towards a door while someone else wanted to restrain his arms. More kicks were aimed at his torso and head. Pain and shock made him freeze up and it was that moment when he realized that it wasn't the threat of looming Avengers that had driven his senses up the wall. His brain needed to shut up now. This wasn't the time to scold him for his foolishness. His Spidey-senses were what he needed! They would help him to get out of this mess.
He became more conscious of his surroundings, sensed 6 guys at a minimum. He kicked off two of them who held down his legs first and then struggled to get control of his arms. By the time he had thrown off the guy who held his right arm, more hands grabbed his legs and yanked him across the concrete. He managed to shoot a web at the guy who still clung to his second arm but the pull on his legs made him lose control of his upper body. It all happened so fast and his head slammed into the ground. He groaned and kicked, wildly fired at his attackers but his webs wouldn't come. His head was throbbing and he wound himself from side to side to shake off the attack. Why couldn't he get his damn web shooters to work? He took a second to look at his wrists and his heart gave a painful squeeze. His right shooter had run out of fluid and the left was almost empty as well. More kicks hit his chest. It drove the air out of his lungs. He needed to get up now. If he wouldn't get up now… He yanked at all his limbs at once and got his feet back underneath himself. He didn't even stop to take a breath, he just lunged at the two who had held his arms and punched their lights out.
Just as he was about to turn to face the rest, his Spidey-senses flared up in alarm. His reflexes took over and urged him into evasive action. Mid-turn he sidestepped to the right but not enough to avoid the knife aimed at his abdomen. A sharp pain ran through him as it struck his left side, but this time his body didn't freeze at all. A quick succession of kicks and punches had the guy drop the knife though not before Peter felt him leave a few additional cuts on his arms. Three down, three more to go. Fuck. He was in trouble. His hand shot down to his side and the amount of blood it was covered in from touching left him light-headed. No. He needed to get out. Without another thought, he stepped back from his attackers towards the wall of the building and just climbed.
He reached the top of the building and collapsed onto his back. Instinctively his hand went back onto the wound on his side. He was bleeding. He needed to stop bleeding. With every deep breath he took, blood was oozing past his fingers. The pain seeped through his entire body.
He cast his eyes up to the Manhattan night sky. Pure despair weighed him down, his body transfixed with pain.
