"Iron!"
Hearing the dull thud of a thin body hitting the ground, White Tiger's head swung around, catching sight of Power Man scooping up Iron Fist in one arm. He dark skinned teen had been watching when Iron Fist had gotten hit over the back his head with the elbow of a pawn, and his knees has buckled. "He's fine," the taller one said, looking at her. "Keep going."
They'd been battling for ages at this point, and thankfully the numbers were beginning to dwindle immensely. After White Tiger got there, the work was far easier, but now there appeared to be a major problem: One of the three fighters was injured. White Tiger doubled her work, the three long arms on the back of the suit impaling a different enemy every few moments. Rushing off to the side, Power Man immediately began assessing the injuries on the blonde, taking off his mask to see the cut. Noticing that it was deep but small, Power shook his head before letting out a thankful sigh when green eyes opened and looked up at him.
"For being so wise, you're an idiot for letting them sneak up on you," the taller of the two jibbed, letting out a small laugh.
Danny rolled his eyes before sitting up, resting a palm on the goose-egg forming along his hairline. "'One who fights for a good cause, will always meet challenges along the road'."
"It's not too bad, so I can't really classify it as a 'challenge'," Power Man shrugged, his eyes narrowing as he continued to observe. There was still a lot of blood, or at least enough to be worried about.
"Power, you can let me go," Danny muttered, smiling as he patted his friends arm. Even through the blood he was sporting a good sized smile. "I'm not going to be taken down by a small hit, don't worry."
Nodding, Power Man helped Danny stand before handing back his mask. As he re-tied it carefully, Iron Fist gave his friend a reassuring nod, his fist clenching as his arm began to glow. "We'll get him soon. We're near, I can feel it."
"Well, you are he guru," Power Man chuckled, charging forward to help White Tiger once more.
-0-0-
The noise his friends were making was getting closer, and Peter gave a small smile, his chest still shifting harshly as he fought to breathe. His torso was still bleeding, and the electricity was now at a low but steady rate. His vision was fading, but yet when he looked up he could very clearly see the confusion on the doctor's face.
"You're near death and greeting it with a smile? Hm. I thought you were weak," He commented, one of his claws reaching out to crank the electric flow up to maximum.
"Sure, this may make me feel a bitfried, but I'm hardly weak." Watching as the claw reached out, he sucked in a deep breath. As soon as the claw was within an inch of the lever, his grip on the threads cutting into his wrists tightened dramatically before he pulled with all his reserved strength.
If he were being honest, he would say that he knew the webbing was connected to pipes. Really, in his mind it was either piping or rocks, and judging by the rest of the rest of the small little cave they were in, he'd been leaning towards rocks. However, when the beautiful sound of screeching metal had greeted his ears, he'd realized that the Doc would need metal to get the electricity to him so evenly. When he broke away, Peter let out an odd laugh, his feet hitting the ground.
Immediately the doctor scrambled backwards, watching as the teen shakily stood. Peter continued to hold the threads tightly, now having two large sections of metal attached to the end of each line.
"See Doc, here's the thing," he started, taking a step forward, "when you put electricity through something over and over and over, something happens. It gets weak, and luckily for me, you chose to tie me up to metal. Sorry if I'm not as good as usual, I'm a bit burnt out."
With this, he grabbed the threads tightly before swinging his left arm around, the pipe section connecting with Doc Ock's torso. The sound reverberated all around the small space, and Peter wound the second pipe upwards, hitting the Doc from the opposite direction with his right line of piping. Watching as the man stumbled backwards and the claws raise up, Peter flicked the webbing downwards, causing the pipes to jump and tighten into almost a bind around the black haired mans waist and two of the extra appendages.
"I did ask politely, before," Peter pointed out, shrugging with a not-so-sorry expression as he jumped forward, rewrapping his arms around Doc Ock to tie him in place. Pulling himself by the threads, he hopped upwards with a familiar ease, his foot landing directly at the top of Doc Ock's spine. He could hear the claws rising to defend their controller, but he pressed the ball of his foot down, feeling the top part of the mechanism that gave the claws life under his boot. "One touch and they break," He warned seriously, smiling to himself as the metal around him stopped moving.
It was at that moment there was a clattering noise, causing Peter's head to raise upwards and look at the doorway. In ran three teens, all looking exhausted but completely alert. Immediately upon the sight in front of them, Power Man's fighting stance dropped. "How?" was all he asked, rolling his eyes as he scrubbed a hand over his face.
"Wonderful work, Peter," Iron Fist commented, as White Tiger let out a small huff of annoyance. Walking over, she plucked up Sam's helmet along with her amulet before looking with a furrowed brow at Peter's gloves and mask.
Looking up again, she practically blanched as she snatched them up and walked over. "Are those tied to your wrists?" She asked, looking closely at the webbing currently imbedded in the brunette's skin.
"Hey, I caught him, didn't I?" Peter pointed out, letting out a sigh of relief as one of the arms on the back of the Iron Spider shot out to cut the threading away. Keeping his foot in place, he rubbed at the cut skin before feeling his Spidey-Sense go off, a moment later being greeted with a face full of material. Grabbing it all blindly and letting out a stale "Good shot," in White Tiger's direction (she simply shrugged), he slipped his mask back on along with his gloves, doing a proper job of tying the madman up.
"So, Tiger, since you have a talent for it," Spiderman started, slamming his foot down and watching the tentacles fall dead as their owner let out a yell of pain, "mind calling S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
-0-0-
"Alright, if I can get a bedpan balanced, I'll beat Danny."
Of all the things Sam thought he would wake up to, that was very low on the list. Opening a tired eye before blinking repeatedly from the influx of light, Sam lifted a hand to guard his face, only to be met with a clattering sound and a groan from Peter, a cheer from Danny, and laughing from Ava and Luke.
"Why did you have to wake up now?" Peter whined before crossing his arms across his chest as Sam fought to sit up. Managing to do so, he could feel his skull throb painfully as he looked at his bed, various objects spread across his blankets; two thermometers, six drinking cups, a pair of shoes, his own helmet, a soda can, two cell phones, and on the floor there were several pillows and bottles of medicine.
"What are you doing?" He croaked, his eyes narrowing as he looked between his friends.
"Trying to see how much we could balance on you while you were out," Luke admitted, half of his mouth lifted in a friendly smile. "So far, Danny's the crowned winner."
"And I would have taken that crown and worn it proudly if you didn't have just terrible issues with timing," Peter pointed out, flicking one of the thermometers across the room.
"But you didn't," Danny pointed out calmly, "which means I still have the metaphorical crown."
The more Sam looked, the more he really saw how big of a battle it had been. Luke, didn't look like he had a scratch on him. Obviously he didn't, thanks to that industrial-strength skin of his. Then there was Ava, who had a few nicks and scratches. Nothing major. Next was Danny, white banadages standing stark against the skin of his face. From what Sam could tell, the boy had gotten hit more than once.
Finally, he was on to Peter. Really looking at the brunette, Sam wanted to wince. Bandaging around his wrist from God knows what kind of wound, bandaged chest, a few small tapped cuts on his forehead. He knew that Peter would heal in a few days, but at the moment he looked a bit rough.
Averting his eyes, Sam sucked in a deep breath. "What happened?" He asked, looking between all of them.
"Basically, I had to save the three of them after I brought you here," Ava shrugged, earning several sounds of annoyance form the boys behind her. Ignoring them, she heard a small chiming noise. Reaching into her pocket, she looked at the screen of her phone before shrugging. "Sorry, gotta take this." Pressing 'send', she murmured a small "Ava speaking," before walking out of the room. The three watched her leave, everyone but Sam wearing a furrowed brow at the fact of how she'd summed up their day.
"Actually, she came back when Danny and I were working overtime to get to Peter. By the time we got there, though, he'd managed to get the Doc tied up and we were able to leave without doing anything else." Luke gave Peter a light punch on the shoulder, oblivious to the brunettes following wince. "He really did hold his own." Peter almost looked proud as he listened, half of his mouth tilted in a smile.
"We were all rather surprised. 'Those who give the impression of immaturity are usually the ones who grow the quickest'. To be honest, we thought you'd still be playing around with him, or worse still in danger. You did well, Peter." Danny gave the boy a smile before his phone went off as well, causing him to sigh. "I have to go back to my room, they need to re-bandage my head and check for any signs of a concussion. We'll be back later, I'm sure." Giving a small nod, Danny stood, accepting the help that Luke offered up immediately. Sam watched them go, Danny leaning heavily on the tall teen. This left him completely alone with Peter, who actually looked slightly nervous.
The two were silent for a short while, listening to the beeping of the machines in the room. Eventually, Peter spoke up. "So I heard Thundra got you," he started, clicking his tongue. "Tough luck."
"Yeah, and apparently a tiger got ahold of you. No offense, but you look like crap." Sam's words were coming out slower than he would have liked, but he dealt with it.
"Yeah, like you look like a picnic yourself there, sunshine. Not to mention that you sound like your mouth is full of marbles."
"Uh huh, says the one who has more bandaging than a mummy."
"You have an old-person-jogging-awkwardly-in-the-park headband going with your bandaging."
"You look like one of the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park clawed your chest."
"Your face is so pasty you look like you're slathered in sunscreen."
"Did you bath in razors this morning?"
"Bed-ridden."
"Arachnid."
"Bucket-Head."
At this point they were both laughing too hard to continue, Sam feeling less forlorn and Peter finally just feeling actually happy. By the time they had both settled down, Peter had tinted cheeks and Sam was grinning.
Letting out a small sigh, Sam rested back. "Good job on not dying," he admonished, earning a bark of laughter from Peter.
"Good job on not slipping into a coma."
"It's a talent."
"You should do it professionally. Wait, hold that, you already do."
Both of them were silent once more, Peter staring at his hands as Sam looked at the blanket. "Really though," Sam started, clearing his throat, "I'm glad you're alright."
Peter continued to look down, thankful that the blush he was sporting could be passed off as redness left over from laughing. "I'm happy you are too." It was true: while he'd been hanging there, waiting for a chance to take over Doc Ock, he'd thought about Sam more than he should have. "I was oddly worried that you wouldn't wake up. It's dumb, I know."
"If I had been thinking a bit more clearly, I think I would have been worried too," Sam shrugged. "But thanks to your idea with Ava and the suit, I managed to get here and get help. I'm not sure I'd be even remotely okay if I'd had to be down there any longer."
"Wait a minute," Peter stopped him, beginning to smile. "Did you just try to inadvertently thank me?"
Rolling his eyes, Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't rub it in my face, alright? Just accept it and move on."
"Nonono, this needs recognition! Hmmm. . . Perhaps I should get a medal," He thought aloud, rubbing at his chin. "Nah, too small. Trophy? With a little Spidey on top, having a fist in the air with a large plague stating that you admitted I did something right?"
"You're pushing it," Sam groaned, covering a hand over his face. "Just let it go."
"Would you be willing to sign it? Sharpie would do."
"Peter!"
-0-0-
From the next room over, Danny and Luke were able to hear the two bickering along with quite a bit of laughter. Sitting back against his own bed, Danny's face got a contemplative look on it.
"Do you think Peter will ever tell Sam?" He asked curiously, looking over at Luke.
Luke simply shrugged, letting out a huff of air through his nostrils as he smiled. "Who knows? Even though Sam's an idiot, he's not stupid. I'm sure he'll figure it out someday."
Hearing a laugh from Sam, Danny smiled. "Let's hope so."
((Fin? End? Confession? Another? What should I do? This feels like an odd ending to leave it on, so any suggestions would be greatly appreciated and I'm so sorry about the wait!))