He found himself topside somehow, dodging the Vulture's buzzing, and realized they were headed straight for the city.

"I'm going to turn now, redirect to Coney, be careful of the roll."

Peter webbed himself to the plane as best he could as the plane turned but he still nearly rolled off the side. The plane was struggling to stay airborne, and sliced off the top of a red, whale-tail shaped building Peter couldn't identify in the moment,

"Hold on!"

"I'm holding as best as I- " he cut himself off with a yell, the tail of the plane catching fire as the belly scraped the sand. Debris flew everywhere as the plane tore apart, and Peter was flung off the edge of the wing.

After a dizzying moment, Peter found himself lying in the sand. He managed to sit up, his ears muffled and ringing from the explosion when the plane hit the ground. He stood up wearily, every part of his body aching, and spied the blazing carcass of what was left of the plane- and Katya was inside-

Before he could run to her, he was knocked off his feet by the Vulture, who had not only survived the crash but was still attacking full force. Peter was flung off his feet again and tumbled through the sand, dodging to avoid the Vulture's stabbing attacks with his wings. Strong, Metal claws grabbed him, slamming him into the ground again and again, winding him repeatedly. He was going to pass out, if he didn't stop soon-

But Katya-

Suddenly the Vulture stopped attacking and dropped him to the ground unceremoniously, his glowing green eyes aimed somewhere over Peter's shoulder- Peter glanced back to see one of the boxes of cargo still intact. The Vulture lunged for it, grabbing it with his claws and making to fly away, but the back of his wings were spitting blue light, the radiation from the plane crash probably having set off the chitauri technology that was powering it.

"Your wings-" Peter coughed, the smoke beginning to get to him, "Your wings are gonna explode!"

He mustered up what strength he had left to web to the box that the Vulture was now trying to pull away with. It was a weak shot, and it wasn't going to hold-

"TIme to go home, Pete," The Vulture called.

"I'm trying to save you!"

The wings continued to rain blue fire and Peter's web snapped.

The best he could do was roll over to duck and cover as the Vulture's wings exploded, adding fuel to the already raging fire on the beach.

The plane carcass was now nothing but charred metal,and he could barely see inside-

Katya.

Without thinking- he didn't need to- Peter sprinted into the fire, scanning the area for any sign of her, the heat and smoke filling his eyes with tears. That's what he told himself, at least.

"Myshka, come in, Myshka-"

There was coughing on the other side of the line, and Peter had never been so relieved to hear someone cough. "I'm fine, Pauchok, where are you-"

"Where are you?!"

Peter sprinted towards the cockpit, dodging the flames that he could- his spider suit wasn't flame retardant, so he had to be careful, but in the moment he didn't care-

He finally spotted her blonde head, still streaked with blood, crawling out from a flaming piece of cockpit debris. She scrambled to her feet and ran to him. He sprinted to meet her.

"Oh thank god-" she started,

"-You're alive! Peter finished. "I-"

He was cut off by her grabbing his head and kissing him full on the mouth, hard and fast, before letting go nearly as quickly and sprint back towards the fire.

It took Peter a second to recover. "What are you doing?!"

"He may still be alive!" She shouted, her dress billowing in the force from the flames, the edges badly charred. She disappeared into them, and Peter sprinted after her.

They found the Vulture under the rubble of his now destroyed wing chassis, and it took both of them with their full effort to fling the hot metal off of him. Grunting through their labor, they managed to find a relatively flameless path to drag him through, despite the sand's resistance. He was unconscious, and deadweight only made the drag that much harder, but between the two of them they got him safely out of the area and propped up against some box debris. Katya stuck two fingers to his neck quickly.

"He's still alive." She managed, sounding relieved. "But I don't know how long until he wakes up."

Peter dragged a few more pieces of nearby box debris that had somehow managed not to catch fire, and together they built something of a pillar to lean him against. Peter then webbed the shit out of the entire structure, adhering the Vulture to the box for what would hopefully hold for at least four hours. Happy, or someone, had to have gotten the notification that the plane had been destroyed, and the sirens Peter could hear in the background told him emergency personnel were on their way.

They'd done it. They'd won.

Katya looked back at Peter grinning, and raised her hand for a high five. He took it, then followed it down for their habitual low five, before grabbing her hand and pulling her closer. Her eyes widened in surprise, and Peter raised a -shaking, weakened, and exhausted- hand to the back of her head. "I just want to do this properly."

He kissed her, then, hard and deep, with a brazenness that must have been coming from the adrenaline, as if trying to communicate all of the overwhelming- it wasn't fluttering, like it had been with Liz, it was more of a rushing geyser of energy that coursed through his chest- through their lips.

The sirens grew louder, getting closer now, and they reluctantly pulled apart. "We've got to get out of here."

Peter managed to scribble a note- somehow the paper and pen he'd stashed in the sweatshirt pocket of his homemade suit had survived the ride- to stick to the Vulture's unconscious body, and the two jogged back towards the city.