Peter followed the Vulture, trying to suit up as he followed him. He kicked off his shoes mid air, and finally put his mask on, at this point trailing right behind him.
The Vulture landed on top of a truck, and cut into the sides with his razor sharp wings. He jumped into the truck full of money, and started stuffing it into his bag. He hooked himself back up to his wings, and began to float back upwards.
Peter landed on the truck, shot a web towards his bag, and pulled it towards him.
"Hey big bird! This doesn't belong to you! Now, you have the right to remain silent!" Peter yelled towards the flying birdman.
Am I legally allowed to say that if I'm not a cop?
The Vulture looked towards Peter, the eyes on his helmet glowing, and he got into a battle ready stance.
"Oh shit." Peter muttered to himself.
The winged man flew towards Peter, swinging his wings at Peter's face. Peter moved out of the way, and jumped towards the front of the truck. He shot a web towards the Vulture, and pulled himself towards him. He threw a punch, and hit him right in the stomach, sending him backwards. The vulture grabbed Peter by the throat and slammed him down on top of the truck. Peter kicked up, and the Vulture slammed him back down, grabbing his foot in the process and bringing him back into the air.
"No no no not again!" Peter started flailing around, hoping he could free himself. Peter shot webs at both of the Vulture's shoulders, and pulled, making his top come towards Peter. Peter swung, hitting him right in the face, shattering part of his helmet. Peter looked up at his face, and his heart sank into his stomach.
"Oh my god. Mr. Toomes?" Peter yelled, not realizing he basically just gave away that he knew him.
Adrian looked down, shocked, and flew back down towards the truck. He slowed down, above the truck, and picked Peter up with his arms. He pulled Peter close, and spoke.
"Next time you come after me, you die."
Adrian picked the kid up one more time, and slammed him into the truck, making a giant hole in the top.
Peter picked himself up, and felt the man's gauntlet connect with his jaw. Peter fell down towards the ground, and didn't get back up.
Vulture looked down at the boy, grabbed his bag, and flew away.
...
Peter opened his eyes, his head pounding. He looked around, and realized he was still in the truck. With the truck still moving, he slowly got up and climbed out of the hole in the top. He looked around, and didn't recognize where he was. He sat on top of the truck for a minute, taking in the night sky, slowly turning to morning. Peter shook his head, and slowly began to walk away from the vehicle, still holding his head.
"Alright Peter, it's okay. You'll turn the corner, and you'll still be in Queens. Everything's gonna be okay."
Peter turned the corner of the block he was walking on, and what he saw shocked him. Peter looked ahead at the Washington monument, confused as to how he didn't see it.
"Oh my god. This is bad. Really really bad. What am I gonna tell May?" Peter said, panicking.
As if on cue, Peter's phone started to ring. When he pulled it out, his heart sank.
Incoming Call
May Parker
Peter held his breath, and answered the phone.
"Hello?" Peter tried to make himself sound tired, which wasn't as hard as it seemed because of the concussion he definitely had.
"Peter, where are you? Did you ever come home last night?" May didn't sound too pleased that her nephew wasn't in bed like he was supposed to be.
"Uh, I'm at Harry's. He asked me to come over. I meant to call you but I fell asleep."
"Peter, you can't do that. You can't just not tell me these things!"
"I know, and I'm sorry."
"It's okay, just be home by 3 alright?"
May hung up the phone, and Peter started panicking again. There was no way he was getting home by 3, even if he started swinging now. Peter's only hope was to walk around and see if there was any way to get home. Maybe a bus that would take him to the city within 9 hours. He could only hope at this point.
Peter walked around, hoping to find something, when his phone went off again. Instead of a phone call, it was a text message from Gwen.
Gwen: Are you okay???
Peter: Long story short, I'm in D.C. and I don't know my way back.
Gwen: Shit okay, I can try and stall until you can find a way back here.
Peter: Thank you, that would be great.
Peter walked around and pondered. What was he going to do at this point? It was almost 8 in the morning now, and he had no way to get back to his home.
If I scale the side of the Washington Monument, maybe I can see a bus station or something.
Who was he kidding, his eyesight was good now but not that great. And while Peter could climb buildings, he wasn't brave enough to go up that high. That fall would definitely kill him.
Peter was beat. This was it. May was gonna kill him. He sat by the reflecting pool, watching the ducks float by him. He felt like he couldn't call Tony at this point either. Tony had done so much for him in the past couple of days, that he felt like he wasn't allowed to ask. Peter hung his head low. Peter saw two feet stop in front of him, and he looked up. The man looked out of breath, but still concerned.
"You okay?" The man asked, looking confused as to what Peter was wearing.
"Uh, not really." Peter replied.
"What are you, one of those street performers? I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be performing over here."
"Huh? No, I'm Spider-Man."
The man looked confused, like he had never heard of him. Which he probably hadn't, since Peter hasn't been doing this for that long.
"Not ringing any bells. I know Iron Man, but not anyone named Spider-Man."
"I'm from New York, that's probably why." Peter said, his head still hung low.
"New York? What are you doing out here then?"
"I got knocked out in a truck and I ended up here. And now I'm stuck here with no way home. My aunt is going to kill me."
"I'll give you a ride to New York. If you really need one."
"Really?" Peter picked up his head and stood up, his mood visibly changing.
"Yeah sure why not. I've been meaning to start my Christmas shopping early anyway. New York City seems like a good place to do that. You know, that big Macy's and all."
"Black Friday was yesterday though." Peter said to the man, laughing through his mask.
"It's fine, shouldn't be as violent now. Come on, I'll pull my car around, and we'll leave. You said your name was Spider-Man right?" The man asked Peter, and he seemed to actually care if he got it right.
"Yeah, and you?"
"Sam. Sam Wilson."
