Disclaimer: I own a purple car. I own a Deadpool plushie. I even own a tree frog. And yet, I own none of the characters in this story...sad day.

Happy 4th of July! Hooray! 'Murica! Land of the free and home of diabetes! I mean-the brave! Yeah! Can this be low-key considered Captain America Day too? It has to be his fav holiday, right? Too bad he isn't in this chappie :,( but whateves. And crap, I'm posting these chapters faster than I can write them. Oh well, I'm a mess. Enjoy. :)

Chapter 5

Metal screeched and churned as the foot lifted off the pulverized vehicle. The broken body of their driver lay twisted and bloody within the wreckage. Peter stood over his aunt's frail form protectively, ragged breaths of fear dragging from his throat.

Aunt May's eyes fluttered open slowly as she laid in her seat. When she finally regathered her bearings, her pupils dilated in terror, and she stared up at her nephew fearfully. "Peter?" she croaked out, her face white as a ghost.

He unclipped her seatbelt and kicked open the passenger door, sending glass spraying across the asphalt. "Come on," he said with forced calmness, "we've gotta get out of here."

After crawling out himself, Peter pulled his aunt from the totaled cab with gentle hurriedness and placed her on the ground, which he realized was quaking beneath their feet. It felt as though a dinosaur was stomping around New York as the earth shuddered in repetitive rhythm. Sirens were wailing in a far-off chorus. Screams of fear tore through the air. After making sure his aunt was okay more or less, Peter felt his spidey sense spike inside his skull, and he whirled around in terror.

Something incredibly tall was standing in the intersection he and his aunt were adjacent from, its massive form looming over them as a dark silhouette against the overcast sun. Peter watched in horror as the beastly whatever-it-was raised back its leg and kicked a passing car like a soccer ball, sending it sailing over their heads and crashing into the side of a building. As rubble scattered from the impact sight, the perpetrator released a throaty laugh and stamped his foot against the ground.

"Spider-Man!" he roared, causing Peter to go rigid. He glared up at the skyline fiercely, hands balled into meaty fists at his sides. "I'm here to beat your scrawny ass to a pulp! Come out and face me now, or I'll trample this city into dust!"

Peter's heart began pounding against his chest. This again? he thought in disbelief, reaching back and grabbing his aunt by the wrist. You're kidding me. Why the hell are all these freaks popping up out of the blue just to fight me?

"That monster is here because it wants to kill you?" he heard his aunt whisper behind him in a shivery voice. "That's why it's destroying everything? That's why it's attacking people?"

"You need to get far away from here," he told her fiercely. "As far as possible."

People were rushing past them in a chaotic wave, congesting the atmosphere with their panicked footsteps and excited hysteria. His aunt had yet to join the exodus, however. Her eyes remained locked on the destructive beast towering before them at an uncomfortably close distance. The creature breathed a vicious roar into the air. Peter gave his aunt a violent shake.

"Aunt May! You have to go, now!"

In that moment, someone slammed into his chest as they fought to push past him along with rest of the fleeing crowds. Peter stumbled backwards from the sudden impact, as did the clumsy retreater, and both stared up at each other in startled surprise.

"P-Peter?" the guy stuttered out in shock. Peter was surprised to see that it was Eddie Brock, the young reporter he'd befriended at the Daily Bugle. Papers sprawled across the ground at their feet. Upon realizing their coincidental second encounter, Peter grasped him by the shoulder.

"Eddie! Man, am I glad to see you're okay."

"Uh, yeah. Me too. But if you haven't noticed, bro: we gotta hightail it outta here!"

"Right," Peter agreed, and shoved Eddie behind him with the flow of the crowd. "Take my aunt and get someplace safe. I'll—uh—I'll catch up with you."

"'Catch up'?" Eddie repeated in disbelief. "What do you mean 'catch up'? You have to come with us!"

"I—I gotta get pictures for the Bugle!" he insisted unconvincingly as he started backpedaling towards the terrifying scene behind them. "It'll only take a minute! I'll be right behind you!"

"Screw the Bugle! You're gonna be killed by that thing! Come back! Peter!?"

Within seconds, Peter had vanished into the chaos, leaving the pair of them standing idly in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Damn idiot! Did he even have his camera?" Eddie cursed bitterly under his breath as he turned back around, grabbing Peter's aunt gently by her arm. "Come on, ma'am. Let's get outta here. I'm sure he'll be fine."

As the two joined the rest of the herd, Peter rushed against the current until he reached the curb of the intersection, where he skidded to a stop, gasping. Yesterday evening he'd thought Shocker was the freakiest foe he'd ever encountered, but this—well, this was an entirely different ballgame. The only thing he could describe it as was what appeared to be a man...wearing a giant dinosaur costume...?

His bizarre adversary suddenly ducked his head and began thundering straight towards a group of civilians pinned against the wall of a building, screeching like a madman with the long horn protruding from his forehead fixated on their petrified forms. The people screamed in terror, and Peter's muscles coiled beneath his flesh. He had to save them—and he had to get Barney focused on attacking him instead of the city—but he didn't have time for a costume change. His blood pounded in his ears as the monstrous attacker charged ever closer to the innocent victims in slow-motion. He secured his web-shooters to his wrists. His hand shot into his back pocket and enclosed around a mass of familiar fabric. Before he could ponder the stupidity of his idea, Peter bolted along the curb, leapt into the air, and slammed his body against the dino-man's head. The impact probably did more damage to him than to his foe, as it felt like he had just body-slammed into an elephant, but the force of his blow knocked him off course enough so that he veered to the left. The massive horn barely missed the cowering people as it plunged into the brick wall, rendering him temporarily stuck like a pin on a poster board. Peter dropped to the ground beside him and pressed his fingers hard against his palms, lathering his thick gray body in webbing to elongate his immobilized state. As he roared and clawed furiously at the wall in attempt to escape, Peter spun around to face the stunned civilians.

"That won't hold him for long. You all need to clear this area ASAP, unless you fancy becoming human shish kabobs."

They all just stared at him, wide-eyed and puzzled. After recovering from their initial shock, a man who was clutching on to his significant other squinted at him confusedly.

"What the hell? Who are you?"

Peter cocked his head to the side and pointed at his face. "What, you don't recognize me from the mask? The web-shooting? The unparalleled humor? Wow, I need to have a word with my press agent later."

"You're Spider-Man, we know," the partner replied, rolling his eyes. "But what the hell are you wearing?"

Peter stared down at the white T-shirt, cargo pants, and Converse shoes he had on, and couldn't help but laugh at himself. Fortunately enough he had stuffed his mask into his pocket before leaving the house that morning, but unfortunately enough he had not had enough time to put the rest of his costume on underneath his clothes as he normally did. So all he had with him to battle this inconvenient foe with was his mask, which he had slipped on just before barreling into his brawny body. He knew he looked ridiculous—like some kind of half-assed cosplayer dragged out of a comic convention—but he would much rather sacrifice his style than his security.

"What?" he retorted somewhat embarrassedly. "This is all I had available! Even superheroes have laundry day you know. Godzilla here didn't exactly strike at a courteous hour, so I had to improvise."

At that moment, the webbing holding dino-guy in place began to snap, and he released an infuriated roar while pounding his fists against the brick. Alarmed, Peter swept his hand sharply in front of his body.

"Alright, wardrobe-bashing discussions later! All of you, away from here, now!"

Startled back to reality, the group began fleeing fervently down the sidewalk. Peter huffed relievedly, but quickly spun back around. Just as the civilians rounded the corner, the giant man wrenched himself free from the building and whipped around furiously, hands balled at his sides as his eyes darted around with vengeful rage. He didn't even notice the tiny hero standing in front of him until a small voice cleared its throat.

"Yoohoo! Jurassic Park? Yes, down here. I heard you were looking for me!"

Instantly, his foe's gaze locked on his puny form. Peter stiffened instinctively as the beast of a man loomed over him, and he watched as his nostrils flared with rage.

"You?" he bellowed, bending down to look him square in the eye. "You ain't Spider-Man! You think I'm stupid, you little runt? Get out of my way before I trample yah!"

Peter swallowed his nervousness and laughed loudly. "Well you are dressed pretty stupid," he remarked, and fired a glob of webbing into his eyes, causing him to scream in outrage. The man clawed frantically at his face, and Peter placed his hands on his hips. "First lemon-man and now...what, triceratops-guy? Dino-dude? Is the new fad among villains these days like desperately gaudy or something?"

He ripped the webs off his eyes and snarled irately. "You scrawny little bastard! It is you then! You're seriously insulting my armor when you're running around wearing that?" He slammed one of his giant, trunk-like feet against the ground, narrowly missing Peter's wiry body as he sprang out of the way. He leapt on to the side of the wall, but nearly slipped and fell when he realized his feet had no traction. The grippy tendrils on his hands managed to hold him in place, but the ones on his soles and toes were not exposed through the bottoms of his Converse. With haste, Peter kicked off his shoes and tore off his socks, right as the beastly foe swung his fist at his lanky form. He hopped ungracefully into the air and landed on dino-man's hand as it connected against the brick, then sprinted down the length of his arm. Peter jumped and grabbed on to his long horn, where he dangled just in front of his adversary's furious face and giggled tauntingly.

"Today is my dress-for-comfort-day, freakasauras rex, which you were so kind to entirely disregard. Perhaps if you hadn't decided to attack so early in the freaking morning I would've made the effort to look decent, but seeing that you're going for the ratchet look too, I figured it wasn't worth my time."

"Get off me!" he roared, swatting at the little hero who was clinging to his appendage for dear life. "And what are you, blind? I'm not a dinosaur, you moron! I'm a rhino! I'm the Rhino! And I'm gonna crush you 'til you're nothing but a smear on the pavement!" Snorting defiantly, the Rhino bent his head and charged towards a semi-truck sitting at the intersection, seconds from skewering him like a Spidey sausage. Yelping, Peter dropped to the ground and rolled between his thundering feet just as he crashed into the vehicle and sent it skidding sideways across the pavement. The Rhino whirled around viciously to see Spider-Man bolting across the street, and Peter grimaced slightly as his bare feet slapped against the disgusting asphalt. He would probably have a lovely layer of half-chewed gum, grimy dirt, and deadly diseases caked on the bottom of his feet by the end of this fight. Fortunately, how he was going to end this fight was a more pressing matter to occupy his mind. Maybe if he got him to slam himself into enough stuff like a mindless freight train, he'd burn himself out. There was the issue of collateral damage, however.

He shot a web at a streetlamp and swung to perch on top of the bulb, cocking his head to the side. "Oooh. I get it now. The Rhino. With the horn and the gray skin and the fat hips. Did you come up with that yourself, or does your mom just hate you?"

Growling, the Rhino snatched up the truck and chucked it right at him. Peter vaulted over it with ease and dropped to the ground in a low crouch, smirking. It was clear his quips were working. He foe was acting reckless and hysterical. Once again, the hefty beast charged towards him, blind with frustration. Peter noticed there was no building directly behind him for the Rhino to crash into, so a different idea came to him. At the very last moment, when the Rhino was cresting over his small form like a towering mountain, Spider-Man sprung off the ground, spun violently in the air, and slammed the side of his foot into the Rhino's face. The kick sent him flying sideways, and his thick body collapsed against the asphalt as he sputtered in pained surprise. As he struck the ground heavily, Peter leapt on to his back, almost laughing at his enemy's enraged stupidity and, hoping to finish him off early, brought his fist down hard against the back of his head.

That...was a bad idea.

"Aack!" he exclaimed, grabbing his knuckles in his hand and hissing sorely. Damn, it felt like he'd just punched a boulder! Guess the Rhino hadn't been kidding when he'd referred to his silly costume as armor. Peter shook his hand about irritably and scanned over the gray skin for a soft spot, a weak point. He did not see any. Dubious, he found the area where the Rhino's shoulder bent into his arm, thinking surely the jointed region would be less tensile, and jammed his fingers against it. That only left him with a smarting hand to couple with his throbbing knuckles. What was this armor made out of? It was incredibly thick and seemingly impenetrable everywhere except for the hole cut around his face, making his entire body practically indestructible. It reminded him of another obnoxiously untouchable foe's outfitting that he'd brawled against recently, which got him to wondering...

"Hey thunder thighs!" he called, rapping on the back of the Rhino's head. "Who gave you this armor of yours? Was it the same guy who sent Shocker after me? Did he sic you on me too? Is that why you're trying to kill me? How do you pee through this stuff anyways?"

With a strangled roar, the Rhino forced himself unsteadily to his feet, blood dripping from his lips. Hopping off his shoulders and landing on the ground, Peter stood before the giant once more. He backed up a little ways, sprinted across the pavement, and jumped into the air with his knees bent against his chest before slamming his feet into the Rhino's stomach like a loaded spring. The Rhino stumbled backwards from the impact and landed roughly on his keister, grunting. Spider-Man sprung on to his wide chest and slugged him right in the face, knocking one of his teeth out and sending bloody saliva spattering across the asphalt.

"Answer me! Who are you working for?"

He coughed viciously, then curled his lips into a hideous snarl. "Y-you're going to pay for that, bub." His massive body lurched forward and his hands shot up to grab him, but Peter was too fast. He backflipped off his chest as the thick fingers closed in empty space, and the Rhino's gaze zipped to the skyline.

"Toomes! Now!"

Spider-Man was caught off guard as his spidey sense suddenly erupted inside skull. Something to his right was flying straight for him. As he leveled out, Peter aimed his wrist at the building in front of him and jammed his fingers against his palm, watching the bio-cable zip from his web-shooter and hurtle towards the wall. It didn't reach it in time. The unbelievably fast object met him in the air like a bullet, a pair of razor-sharp talons latched on to his shoulders, and Spider-Man was dragged into the sky.

"Nice call, O'Hirn! Just like the old saying: the early bird gets the worm. Only today, the Vulture caught himself a spider instead!"

Peter gasped as he was carried higher and higher into the air. Within moments, the city looked miles below his feet. He clawed at the talons biting into his skin, but their grips were unfaltering. Peter stared up at whatever it was that had snatched him, eyes squinted against the whipping breeze. "What the hell? Who are you? Put me down!"

A wrinkly face with gnarled skin and a pointy nose glanced back down at him, grinning deviously. "Not afraid of heights, are we Spidey?" he cackled aloud as their elevation increased evermore. "I'm certainly not. Good thing too, or all my work on this flight suit would've been for nothing."

The elderly-looking man was wearing a freaking metal bird costume with wings and feathers and everything, while also having what appeared to be thrusters built into his back that allowed him to zip about quickly. It's like these people were just begging him to puke up every corny wisecrack he had in his book concerning their ridiculous wardrobe felonies. He needed to start writing some down for later.

"It's quite the upgrade from the original Big Bird, but c'mon grandpa: aren't we a little old for playing dress-up?" Reeling back his fist, Peter socked his kidnapper right in the stomach, causing him to choke and drop a few hundred feet. He swung back his legs to gain momentum, then lunged forward rapidly, tearing himself free from the powerful talons and doing a completely 360 around the Vulture's face. As he flipped, Peter felt his shirt rip from his shoulders, and by the time he had landed on top of his back, he was left with only his pants and his Spider-Man mask. Great, he thought embarrassedly, shivering as the air blasted against his bare skin. As if fighting in my cover clothes wasn't bad enough!

Recovering with a growl, the Vulture dropped the shirt from his claws and leered over his shoulder. "Get off me, freak!" he screeched, and began barrel-rolling like a jet plane. Startled, Peter dropped into a crouch with his hands and feet flat against the metal surface to keep from being ripped from his back. The g-force grabbed at him hungrily as the Vulture spun around and around and around, rocketing back down toward the city. Within seconds, his vision began to blur and his head started to whirl.

"T-too—m-much—sp-spinning!" he managed to whimper, unable to focus enough to sock bird-brain in the spine. He was used to flipping and tumbling high above the city, but this was a bit extreme. Just when he was sure he was going puke, the Vulture's wings snapped open, jarring Peter violently from the sudden halt. He was so dizzy he could barely see straight, but that didn't stop him from noticing the side of the building his head was careening towards. Startled sober, he bent over backwards just as the wall came zooming by, his face inches from his reflection that stared back at him along the windows of the skyscraper.

"Damn, beaky don't mess around," he laughed uneasily as the building finally passed. "So I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guesstimate that you, hippo-hips, and shocky lemon man are all buddy-buddy and working for the same arachnophobic asshole. Am I correct?"

The Vulture banked dangerously close to a apartment complex, clearly still intent on squashing him flat. "Quit running your mouth like an idiot! Do you really want to waste your last moments on earth spouting your usual pointless blabber?"

"I didn't make it obvious?" he gawked, ducking to avoid banging his forehead on a flagpole. "Don't worry, I'm saving my best for last. With my final, dying breath, I'll whisper to whoever's closest: Intersection of 4th and 20th street. Fat guy in a little coat. The password is Obama yo mama. Money in the horse. You're adopted."

A feathery elbow suddenly struck him in the chest, causing him to stumble back and lose his balance. In that instant, the Vulture flipped upside-down, and Peter fell from his back with a yelp. The Vulture snagged him by his ankle with his talons before Spider-Man could web-zip away and rocketed around a corner.

"Better start counting your moments then, spider," he chortled, then grinned viciously. "Incoming, O'Hirn!"

As he was dragged upside-down above the street, Peter gasped when he realized what the jungle duo was planning. The monstrous gray mass came into view as they rounded the curve of a skyscraper, sneering at him as they rapidly approached. Spider-Man fired a web from his wrist just as the Vulture released his foot. He free-fell for a few terrifying seconds, then felt the bio-cable grow taught as it latched on to a wall. He arched his body to swing as fast as he could, curling his legs up against his chest. Seconds from what he thought would be a scot-free evasion, a meaty fist suddenly closed around his arm. His heart leapt into his throat.

"Gotcha!" the Rhino laughed, yanking him backwards and snapping his webbing life-line. "I got him, Toomes!"

"Don't let him go! He's a quick little insect, I'll give him that." The Vulture landed behind him, smirking deviously.

"Whatcha' going to do now, bug-boy?" O'Hirn taunted, dangling Spider-Man right in front of his ugly face as he curled his fingers tighter and tighter around his arm. It felt like it was about to break. Peter bit back a cry of agony but couldn't stop himself from grappling frantically to escape. He kicked and clawed and pushed and pulled, but it was fruitless. He was caught.

"L-let me go! Or I'll—"

The Rhino suddenly slammed him against the asphalt, knocking the breath from his lungs. "Why so serious all of a sudden, huh Spidey? Go on, say something funny! We know you want to!" He smashed him into a car, a wall, a light pole, a window, all with merciless pleasure. Within moments, Peter was battered and bloody, hardly able to gulp down a gasp before his body was slung into some other solid structure. Dammit. He's going to beat me to death! His mind veered back to their innocent cab driver, crushed and twisted within the ruins of the smashed car.

Roaring with laughter, O'Hirn slammed him against a brick building and held his limp body above the concrete. Fresh gashes and bruises marred his exposed flesh, and the blood flowing down his back splattered across the wall.

"The Big Man will be pleased to hear that we handled him ourselves," Toomes snickered, licking his crinkly lips. "He made it seem like you would be such a nuisance, but clearly he was mistaken. You're just an obnoxious little brat with a smart mouth. We won't even need the others now. Not until the second part of the plan, anyway."

Peter spat a glob of blood on to the asphalt. Big Man...I've heard that name before. Along with O'Hirn. A long while ago, I remember. That was the name of that thug, which apparently is also the name of the Rhino. But what does all of it mean...?

Spider-Man lifted his head weakly. "Hey. Lard-ass. Who's...this Big Man guy? Why's he after me? What...what others?"

The Rhino slugged him in the gut with his free hand, causing him to gag. "Quit talking, piss-ant. Information like that don't have no use to a dead man."

Peter chuckled hoarsely, grimacing. "So...you do have information about it then, huh? I'll...have to...look into that."

"Stop toying with him," the Vulture commanded sharply. "You know what to do. You won the bet, so you get to do him in. Get it over with already."

"Cool it, Toomesy. I wanna enjoy this. Don't get your feathers in a ruffle."

Spider-Man eyed the vulture through the lenses of his mask, ragged breaths heaving from his lungs. "I'm with stupid on this one, beaky. I prefer my chicken served cold. But have either of you ever prepared a poultry dinner before?" Peter's free arm shot forward and fired a web-line at the Vulture's wing. The webbing snagged on to one of the metal feathers and tore it from its base. He whipped his hand hard to the left, bringing the razor-sharp feather with it. "You have to pluck it first."

The feather zipped past the Rhino's startled face, slicing a deep cut straight across his sweaty forehead. O'Hirn cried out in agony as he clasped his bleeding face in his hands, releasing Peter's arm and sending him dropping to the ground. Like lightning, Spider-Man rolled along the asphalt to avoid the Rhino's tantrum, shooting off globs of webbing that slapped across the Vulture's flight suit. When he was decently coated, Peter aimed both his web-shooters at the jungle foes' faces. A pair of bio-cables zipped from the slits on his wrists, travelled through the devices, and fastened to O'Hirn's chin and Toomes' nose. With his two middle fingers on both hands, he double-tapped against the triggers on his upper palms. Veins of electricity snaked down the web-lines directly into his victims' bodies, and the evil duo collapsed to the ground, screaming and convulsing in agony. In moments, they were both lying still on the pavement, unconscious.

Peter sat on his hands and his knees, breathing strenuously with his head hung low. He was banged up pretty bad—nothing life-threatening or outlandishly serious, but certainly enough to render him exhausted and in need of medical attention. He could hear sirens approaching from a distance, but was in no mood to have another piss-out with the New York prick patrol, especially when he was hobbling around the streets half-naked and beaten to a pulp.

Sluggishly, Spider-Man dragged himself to his feet and uprooted a lamppost from its spot on the sidewalk. He limped over to the Rhino, knelt down in front of him, and twisted the flexible metal around his fists into a giant make-shift pair of handcuffs. He reinforced it with a thick layer of webbing and also pinned down his legs just in case. That shock wasn't going to keep he or bird-brain out for long, and he didn't want to take any chances of letting them escape. Not after last time's little mishap.

Gripping his aching stomach, Peter fired a web-line at a building, lifted slowly off the ground, and began gently swinging down the road with careful, ginger movements. As embarrassing as it was to be so brutally pummeled twice in a row now, he knew he needed to get to Avengers Tower. Not only to tend to his wounds, but to warn his teammates about the bizarre yet devastatingly powerful super villains that were being funded to kill him. Maybe they could pull some solid information on all of this. He hoped Eddie and Aunt May were okay.

In matching flashing cars, the police arrived on the scene. The block was a mess of crumbling rubble and smashed vehicles. Shattered glass sprinkled the concrete, and deep potholes soiled the street.

Four men in uniform walked up to the trapped behemoth and the slumbering bird-man, each with guns cocked in their hands. When they drank in the sight, one of them cursed.

"Spider-Man."

A large loading truck was rolled up, and the Rhino was towed inside by a thick chain. The vulture was laid inside the truck as well, and two of the officers sat beside them. The truck pulled away with a burst of exhaust and began bumping its way down the mangled road.

After a few minutes, the Rhino's eyes slid open, and he let out a moan. "Ow...ugh. Aw, damn. Hey. W-where...?"

"Relax," the policeman assured him quickly. "You're on one of the boss's transport vehicles. We're his men. We're taking you back to headquarters."

O'Hirn lifted his head groggily, wiping at the blood caked on his forehead with the back of his hand. He glanced at the officer suspiciously. "You. You're a policeman. You're telling me the police are working for the Big Man now?"

The other officer chuckled under his breath. "Not the Big Man. The Big Man's boss. The Big Man's Big Man. He's got a far-reaching hand in this part of town. He offered us the job right after we joined the NYPD, and he's the one who sent us to pick you guys up." He flashed a small badge, which depicted a red skull with six tentacles.

Toomes sat up beside him a moment later, grimacing. "Well, I'm certainly glad you boys got to us first. Damn that spider brat! No one ever mentioned shock-webs in the briefing."

"You'll receive medical treatment for your injuries once we've arrived, and the boss'll have men repair and upgrade your suits immediately."

The Vulture eyed the policeman with a sideways glance, his long nose crinkled along the bridge. "I'm curious. Who is the Big Man's boss, anyway? Who has enough power to control part of the police force?"

The man snorted amusedly, then lifted his gaze. "You should know how this works already, old timer. We don't say his name."

It's getting pretty obvious, isn't it? Yeah, I think it is. Anyhoo I liked writing this chapter a lot more than the next one. Probably because...well, you'll see. Many of you will probably think I'm a psychopath once you finish it, but oh well :P it's kinda true. Hasta la vista!