The winds kicked up a notch, brutally tearing up the streets in New York City. Peter used his adhesives and strength to keep himself from being flown away. He stayed behind an abandoned car, thinking of what to do next when Dr. Strange boldly strode down the center of the street.
The sorcerer lifted his hands in the direction of the intruding spaceship and conjured mystic bands of light around his wrists. He chanted underneath his breath before a combustion of magic encased the spaceship in its own bubble. The heavy winds stopped and the detritus floated to the ground as an eerie silence settled.
Peter slowly poked his head out from behind the car, looking up at Dr. Strange. The wizard lowered his arms and, as if knowing Peter was staring, turned back to him and winked. Peter had to admit he was impressed. The wizard knew more than performing simply vanishing acts.
He moved out to the street, joining Strange as well as Wong. Peter craned his head back, looking bemused by the sudden appearance of the spaceship. What was it doing here? Who arrived? Was it Thor?
Peter found himself being tugged backwards. "Stay behind me," Strange ordered.
Peter frowned, but he obeyed Strange's command, choosing to stay slightly behind the wizard as they approached the spaceship. Peter's senses tingled, his hairs spiked up along his arms and his heartrate steadily raced faster as they inched closer to the ship.
A beam of energy descended, meeting the ground a few yards away from them. Strange struck out his hand, blocking Peter. The blue light faded and two figures stood at the center. One slender and the other an enormous troll.
Peter sized up the two strangers as best as he could, but he had no answers or explanation. They didn't look like the Chitauri that attacked New York nor do they look anything like Thor. These were new aliens from space. He side-glanced to Strange and Wong. They looked stumped as well.
The slender one that reminded Peter of Squidward from SpongeBob SquarePants. His flat, elongated face had sunken eyes and wide lips that stretched across his mouth in a smug, cocky smile. Tufts of white hair swept down the back of his head, leaving the top bald and shiny off his blue-green grey skin. He wore tight black robes, trimmed in gold, and dark pants with heavy boots. Only his ugly face and hands visible.
"Hear me, and rejoice," declared Squidward in an unnervingly soothing voice that was meant to be comforting, but sounded threatening. It made the hairs on Peter's arm prickle up. "You are about to die at the hands of the Children of Thanos."
That's probably why Peter thought it sounded threatening. He was threatening them. And the alien did it with a smile. Quite a morbid smile too.
The troll's huge frame dominated above them, deadly techno-hammer gripped in his hands as he snarled in their direction, his scaly skin and bone-ridged head striking fear into Peter's body.
Squidward continued his preaching. "Be thankful that your meaningless lives are now com—"
"I'm sorry!" Peter interrupted, raising his hand, but then quickly dropped it in embarrassment. Only a child would raise a hand to interrupt an alien's death threat. And only an idiot fool like him would interrupt a death threat. "Sorry, but… we are kind of in our own crisis at the moment. Can you just… go away? Have Scotty beam you back up?"
Squidward looked repulsed by Peter's interruption. Dismissing Peter completely, he turned to Strange. His diminutive eyes narrowed on the necklace around Strange's neck. Peter sensed a pulse and a hum of energy coming from the center of the necklace.
"Stonekeeper," Squidward addressed the wizard, who arched an eyebrow at the alien's knowledge of him. "Does this chattering animal speak for you?"
"Chattering an—" Peter huffed, but Strange cut him off.
"Certainly not," Strange responded, stepping forward, keeping himself in front of Peter to block him entirely from sight. "I speak for myself."
Strange made a funny gestured with his hands again and the mystic bands of light returned around his wrists, producing two protective mandalas. "You're trespassing in this city and on this planet."
Wong stepped up too, his hands also glowing in the same light show as Strange.
And Peter, left standing behind the two wizards, stood on his tip-toes to get a better look. Was this what Strange warned? Was this what Mr. Stark feared? Whatever these two aliens came from, Peter knew they didn't belong on Earth.
The aliens showed no interest in departing. He stayed in position, watching like they were pathetic toddlers threatening them with paper swords.
Still smarting from the alien's "chattering animal" snide, Peter yelled over Strange's and Wong's head to the ugly alien. "He means get lost, Squidward!"
The slender alien sighed in exasperation and waved his thin hand in their direction. "He exhausts me," he said to his friend.
The troll answered his companion's gesture in a series of unintelligible grunts and growls. He brought up his weapon into a battle sense.
Peter's heart plummeted.
"Bring me the Stone," Squidward commanded.
The troll slammed his massive hammer into the pavement, cracking it like the street was made out of glass rather than asphalt.
Strange looked over his shoulder at Peter. "Go!" he ordered, but Peter shook his head. "Now!"
Peter didn't budge, but rather, he readied for battle. Strange shot him a pointed look that combined irritation and indignation. Peter didn't give a damn though. He's fought similar monsters at the Compound. He trained and trained, day and night, and competed in combat scenarios with sentinels and others who were probably just as strong as this troll.
Strange said that there were bigger threats looming over the world. If this was one of them, Peter was going to participate in order to ensure bad things happened a little less on Earth when he was around. And, admittedly, to get Strange to help fix the situation at home once this major threat was done.
Peter wasn't worried about the confrontation. There were only two aliens and three of them. Peter faced worse odds.
Strange didn't know that. He whipped his arm in a circle and a fiery portal opened behind Peter. "Safe travels," the wizard advised, still collected and cool before he flicked a hand at Peter.
Before Peter could protest, he found himself falling backwards, smack in the middle of Washington Square Park. He landed unceremoniously on the grass, his surprise visit shocking visitors. The portal was still open above him and Peter scrambled up quickly to jump back through only to be thrown off guard when the troll plowed right through.
That scared a whole lot of people.
As people dashed out of the park in terror, Peter scuttled backwards and dodging the troll's swinging hammer. He doubted Strange meant for the troll to get passed them, which meant Peter was left on his own to handle this particular beast. That was fine. Peter could hold his own.
The troll swung its hammer, the blunt end disconnecting, but attached by a chain to the troll's arm, propelled right at Peter. He caught it, with both hands, with relative ease, much to the troll's shock and indignation.
"Hey, ugly," Peter nodded at the troll. "What's your problem? Didn't get the girl?"
The troll snarled, which Peter took it as an affirmative. "Tough luck, man," he quipped before he used his strength to flip the troll over him, thumping the monster right onto its back. "But that doesn't give you the right to terrorize people."
He knew better to not taunt the massive troll with a hammer for an arm. Peter didn't know why he always had to make light of this madness. Why he needed to joke in a situation that could end his life if struck just right. It was baffling to him, but it also felt relaxing. His life up to this point was stressful, complicated and dangerous. Nothing was easy. Nothing was fair. Maybe with just a hint of humor, he could survive this new battle.
After all, his old psychiatrist said humor was one way to cope when faced with stressful situations. And Peter would definitely label this as stressful.
The troll recovered quickly and flung his hammer at every spot Peter stood. Peter dodged, swiftly, his feet easily sliding from left to right to avoid being hammered into the ground. He leapt out, over the chain, and landed back on his feet to give a powerful kick to the troll's side. The troll fell and rolled, but not far. Not enough to give Peter a breather.
The battle raged on as sirens filled in the gaps of Peter's heavy breathing and the troll's snarls. People screaming and shouting, but Peter ignored all those distracting sounds to focus. He came to realize the troll had a thick skin and heavy armor that kept it from being hurt. Peter, who had nothing but his clothes, knew he couldn't keep going.
Peter had fought against brute strength before, but this troll wasn't as stupid as it appeared. There was some cunning behind those grunts and snarls, and Peter didn't want to waste any more time with the troll. Sooner or later, a mistake was going to be made and he wouldn't have his web-shooters to help him.
And that mistake came. As Peter stopped the hammer from descending upon him, the troll took its free claw to wrap around his exposed chest. The troll lifted Peter off his feet and hurled him across the park, where Peter plowed through a railing and flipped over a bench.
He groaned as pain pulsed along his back. That hurt.
Peter bounced back up, remembering the rampaging troll. Up on his feet, he was met with a hard whack of the hammer at his chest. The troll landed a massive blow and, once again, Peter flew up into the air. He crashed on the grass, viciously rolling right into a tree trunk.
Oh… that was going to leave a serious bruise, Peter groaned inwardly. He was sprawled on the ground, his breathing haggard through the pain from his chest. He tried to get up, but he ached. His vulnerability leaving him prime for death.
Already, Peter heard the thunderous stomps of troll coming up to him. He heard the battle cry and wind rushing as it ready to slam the hammer down on Peter.
Peter looked up, watching the hammer come down at him. Too disoriented and chest squeezing from his bruised ribs, Peter meagerly lifted his hands up as his only defense to save himself.
The hammer descended. Peter braced for impact.
The hammer's direction was diverted only by a sharp, blinding blast. It took out the troll, shooting it straight into a stone fountain yards away from where Peter laid incapacitated and disoriented by the sudden flash of power.
Peter blinked in surprise until the sound of metal and blasters drew louder. Iron Man.
"Mr. Stark!" Peter cried, in both relief and shock at the sudden appearance of Iron Man. He scrambled back to his feet, eyeing the red and gold suit hoovering a few feet above him. "Where did you come from?"
"From the Tower," Mr. Stark snipped, drawing out his blaster. "The real question is where did you come from?"
For a split second, Peter thought Mr. Stark was going to shoot him. But Mr. Stark wasn't aiming it at him. "Duck!" Iron Man ordered.
Peter did and the blaster shot right over his head and barreled into the chest of the gigantic troll, sending it right back into the water, waves splashing over the fountain and onto the sidewalk. Peter breathed deep, despite the ache along his ribcage. Definitely bruised and, hopefully, not broken.
Iron Man joined up with him, landing right beside Peter. "Okay—so how did you two meet?" he intoned, gesturing between the recovering troll and Peter.
"Well, okay, so him and Squidward came down on this floating donut ship from space and… and, they're after a wizard's necklace," Peter quickly filled in Mr. Stark the problem at hand. "So—um, we gotta stop them."
Mr. Stark was quiet for only a second. "You need better friends," he muttered, before turning back to the troll. "All right, listen up. If you wanna stay alive, stick with me. Do what I say."
Peter could do that. If it meant stopping the aliens from getting whatever it was Dr. Strange was protecting, he'd follow Mr. Stark's lead until it was no longer necessary. He had no interest in being dropped back in the Hole again.
"You distract the big guy and I'll take him down," Mr. Stark directed. "Get him to look up. He has no protection around his neck."
Peter noticed that too, but it was hard to get there with the troll's metal claw and hammer wreaking havoc.
The troll got out of the fountain and was pissed. He snarled and roared, charging right for them. "Alright, kid," Mr. Stark said as he powered up his new Iron Man suit. "Let's go."
Peter swung up, using acrobatic skills and strength to flip over the troll. It got the troll to look up and Iron Man shot another blast at the giant. It only hindered its charge, but certainly aggravated the troll into a vicious frenzy. It swiped for Mr. Stark with its hammer, forcing Mr. Stark to jet up and away. The troll and Iron Man continued to battle, with Iron Man blocking blow after blow with a new formed out of what Peter believed to be nanites in his suit. Iron Man continued to blast the troll, interrupting the troll's attempts to kill him. But it wasn't enough. Mr. Stark's shield only held the troll off for so long. The man needed assistance.
Peter may not have a suit or his web-shooters, but as he told Captain Rogers, he wasn't useless. He looked around for something to use, spying a light pole nearby. He ripped it off the ground and javelined straight at the troll to get him away from Mr. Stark.
That did it. The pole ripped skin along the troll's arm. The troll stumbled, arm dropping a bit as it howled.
Peter's smile only lasted for a little bit before the claw slammed right into him, squeezing Peter's bones into his organs. This was not good.
Letting out a cruel snarl, the troll thrashed Peter, shaking him well before releasing Peter high into the sky like a rag doll. Peter soared to the clouds, skyrocketing past treetops and skyscrapers. And then, he stopped. His body arched and he found himself plummeting to the ground.
Peter tumbled in the air, arms flailing as he remembered he didn't have his web-shooters to catch him. "No, no, no, no, no," he freaked as he clawed at the air in hopes to catch something. "Not good. Not good."
Rockets resounded around him and he landed into the metal arms of Iron Man. "Hold on," Mr. Stark ordered and Peter glued himself to the suit as Mr. Stark shot downward back to the fighting ground.
Iron Man's arms retracted and a missile from each arm came out. Peter's eyes went wide. He was holding missiles in his arms!
Mr. Stark fired. The missiles shot off and slammed right into the troll, knocking it onto its back. Peter slid off of Mr. Stark, happy to have his feet touching the grass again.
"Thanks," Peter said to the iron mask.
"Don't thank me yet," Mr. Stark replied, watching the troll groan, but hobble up. "He's not dead."
No. The troll was alive and jumped back up with an ugly snort and growl. Its claw was ready to pull out their hearts and the hammer ready to puncture it repeatedly. Peter swallowed unhappily at the image of his impending death.
Just as the troll rushed at them both, a red cloak sailed right between them, away from all the danger and straight into the city. While it surprised Mr. Stark to see a flying cloak coming between them and the troll, Peter recognized the cloak.
Dr. Strange!
He was in trouble.
Peter ran to go after him, but something caught his arm.
"Peter! What are you doing?" asked Mr. Stark as the troll stormed up to them.
"I gotta save him!" Peter yelled and he ripped his arm out of Mr. Stark's grasp and gave chase after the red cloak.
He heard Mr. Stark call for him, but Peter needed to save Dr. Strange. The sorcerer looked knocked out, flying alone on his cloak as that Squidward alien chased after him. It was difficult to keep up. With him being on foot and jumping from car to car after them, he was slightly behind on the race to get Dr. Strange.
Squidward manipulated the street signs and lamppost to trap the red cloak, pin it down and take Dr. Strange's unconscious body away. It didn't help Peter in the slightest when the alien tried to throw billboards and cars at him either. Peter zig-zagged as best he could as Squidward kept dismissively hurtling cars, billboards and anything else to prevent his pursuit for Strange.
They really wanted that necklace. "Not cool!" Peter cried out as he flipped over a bike that was thrown at him.
To Peter's horror, the alien got a street lamp to pinch the cloak, ripping it away from Dr. Strange's body. It tried to go back and rescue its falling master. Squidward was delighted and went to intercept the unconscious wizard. Desperate to stop it, Peter doubled his effort. He grabbed hold of an abandoned car. With all his might, he threw it straight at the alien.
Too distracted by Dr. Strange, Squidward didn't have time to stop the oncoming car. It smacked right into the alien's head, knocking him down from his floating perch.
Peter launched himself up and caught Dr. Strange before the man hit the pavement. "Gotcha!" he cheered, taking hold of a lamppost to swing around in a different direction.
His arm jerked. A bright blue beam snared Dr. Strange in its glow, drawing the unconscious wizard up to the donut ship.
"No, no, no, no!" Peter panicked, tightening his grip on the pole and pulled Dr. Strange back to him, away from the tractor beam. "Stop it! Don't—"
The pole gave way, ripped right up from its rooted position on the sidewalk. Peter screamed, but it was drowned out by the beam of light shooting him and Dr. Strange up to the donut ship.
No. No. No. No! He didn't want to go to outer space. This wasn't part of the plan! He only wanted to pass on his thanks to Dr. Strange and convince him to assist in freeing everyone else. Not go on a Star Wars adventure!
Worse part was he couldn't seem to get himself out of the trajectory to the spaceship. Trapped and being sucked up from Earth, Peter clutched onto Dr. Strange's arm. What to do… what to do! He should have stayed with Aunt May. Should have stayed underground, in the tunnels. Safe and sound.
Dr. Strange was absorbed in the spaceship and the minute his body was inside, the light vanished. The force that gripped and sucked them up from the ground released its hold on everything else. Including Peter.
He plunged.
Screams were drowned by the rushing wind. It filled his ears and murmured of his impending demise. Why was he always falling?
But a streak of red came to his rescue. Dr. Strange's red cloak swooped him up and carried him back to the donut spaceship. Peter grabbed hold of the spaceship, crawling up to find an entry small enough to squeeze himself through to the other side where Dr. Strange was trapped. Maybe even being tortured.
He had to save Strange.
Every movement hurt though. It was hard. He was getting tired, cold and light-headed. His ear kept ringing from the sounds of the spaceship's engine as it lifted away from New York. Even breathing was hard. Peter sucked in as much air as possible. "I can't breathe…" he choked out. "Why can't I…"
He pressed close to the spaceship, looking back down to see how far away from New York they were. Very far away. The spaceship broke into the stratosphere.
"Yeah… that makes sense," he murmured to himself.
Air depleted from his lungs quicker and quicker. Everything was heavy. He dropped his head against the metal paneling, as the donut ship kept spinning and launching itself into outer space.
Peter could see the stars. There were more than he ever saw on Earth. Or maybe it was his vision. Things blurred and burned. He couldn't breathe. No matter how deep his breaths, he couldn't inhale anything. Suffocating in space. On a donut ship. Not his way to go.
In that moment, as his eye lids drooped to a close, he thought of his aunt. He hoped she was okay and not afraid. Not like him.
His fingers loosened. His grip dissipated. Peter slipped off, dropping once more, back into Earth's atmosphere.
Peter fell for only two seconds before an object slammed into him. Was it the spaceship? Did he hit it on his way down?
No. It was something else. Something crawling all around him, covering him inch by inch. It took over his chest. Then his arms and legs. And then straight over his head.
He inhaled. Air flowed right into him. Oxygen filled within him, bringing him back to life and to the realization that he was banging around on the spaceship's deck.
He tried his best to regain footing, somersaulting all over the place until he finally found a smooth surface to grip. He steadied himself, slowly rising to his feet in awe as he took in the stars, planets and black abyss. Wait… how could he do this?
Peter glanced at his hands. They were covered in a metallic-like material, perfectly fitted to his whole body. He traced it all the way up his arm to his chest, where a gigantic spider-logo proudly gleamed.
Holy—a Spider-man suit!
The sound of thrusters interrupted his admiration of the new suit. Iron Man flew next to him.
"Mr. Stark!" Peter exclaimed, surprisingly happy to see Iron Man flying beside him. "It smells like a new car in here!"
Iron Man's glowing blue eyes looked down at him. "Happy trails, kid," he said. "FRIDAY? Send him home."
FRIDAY, Mr. Stark's faithful AI, answered swiftly. "Yep!"
Something popped out behind him. Peter glanced over his shoulder in time to see a vast parachute unfold behind him. "Wait—"
But, Peter didn't get the chance. The parachute shot him right off the spaceship, sending him around and right back to Earth.
Immediately, Peter flailed his arms and legs out. No! He needed to save Dr. Strange! He can't go back to Earth yet!
Oddly, it's like the suit understood what he was trying to do. It shot a web out, latching right onto the end of the spaceship. The parachute tugged, warring it with the web to let Peter go. Peter held on though, refusing to detach himself from the lifeline to the spaceship. He reached his other hand out and over his back, looking for the latch to free himself from the parachute's grasp.
He found it and tugged. The parachute flapped, ungracefully, back down, billowing in violent ruffles as it fanned, leaving Peter holding onto a single web-string.
"Oh, my God," Peter panted as he held onto the web for dear life.
Deep breaths, he towed himself up the web, returning to the spaceship. He noticed an emergency doors prepping to close and scurried into the opening. He climbed into it just as the doors slowly closed on him.
Peter took one last look at Earth. "I should have stayed in the tunnels."