Typical Parker Luck - A Peter Parker Love Story

XXXI - Flight

Peter's POV

A green glow caught my eye. Perched atop an abandoned billboard was the Vulture. He was waiting for the plane to take off from Stark Tower.

Eve shifted, her once slack face grimacing in pain.

"Hey, take it easy," I said. "You've torn your stitches again."

Eve groaned in annoyance. She cracked her eyes open. "How long was I out?"

"Couple minutes, tops," I said. "The Stark plane hasn't taken off yet. Vulture's sitting on the billboard, just there." As I helped Eve sit up, I pointed across the industrial yard where the eerie green glow from the wing-suit's eyes could be seen.

"Well, are we gonna go get him?" she said.

"Eve, you're in no shape to fly," I countered, looking down at her torso.

Eve's POV

"If you fall out of the sky, I'll be at a lower altitude following along," I responded, ignoring Peter's concern and the pain across my stitches.

Peter pulled me up into a stand, his brown eyes not leaving mine.

"Besides, you need a woman on the ground," I began. "You've always got your head in the clouds."

Peter let a small smile slide across his lips. "Alright, just don't push yourself too hard."

My heart was already pounding with adrenaline.

Peter's eyes flitted down to my lips then back up to my eyes in question. I grabbed him by the collar of his red and blue sweatshirt, feeling the stiffness of my bruised knuckles. I closed my eyes, leaning up to let my lips meet his.

"Same goes to you," I replied as I pulled away.

Peter's face seemed to go though a million emotions at once. He was head over heels.

Across the yard, Vulture stood like he was about to take off.

"Gotta go!" Peter realized, shooting a web across the rubble.

I smirked.

Peter strung a web on the back of Vulture's suit and was lifted up into the air along with him.

I lifted up my shirt and assessed my bandages. I figured they could hold up for at least another hour.

Besides, I had a day to save and a spider to catch.

Flying over the city of New York at night was a sight I had rarely experienced.

Pain crept up my torso with each flap of my wings but I still pressed on, using Peter's shouts of fear to guide my way underneath the stealth plane.

After a few tense moments, Peter had stuck himself to the side of the plane, no longer dangling in the wind off the back of the Vulture.

As I followed the plane up above the clouds, I could feel the air starting to get thin. I had no idea if my mutation protected me from altitude sickness; I had never dared to fly this high.

The Vulture secured his wing suit to the side of the plane, the metal wings snapping shut around him to create an airtight seal fastened to the belly of the aircraft.

Before I could catch my breath, Peter slipped down the side of the plane, catching himself again on the tail.

In an instant, I had rolled over to fly with my stomach facing up in case he fell.

Peter pressed on. Pushing against the wind he crawled towards the wing suit stuck to the side of the plane. I could only assume the Vulture had somehow cut his way into the bottom of the plane as was raiding its contents.

The cloaking panels on the bottom of the plane suddenly turned from the projection of New York City to Peter's red and blue sweatshirt.

I swore, my stomach dropping. He must have been caught the cloaking cameras. Hank's Quinjet had similar tech.

I had to remind myself it was likely no one could see us at this height. We were surrounded by clouds.

I shivered, whether out of the cold or sheer fear of heights, I wasn't sure.

Peter made short work of kicking away the wing suit.

Now a large hole in the belly of the plane, I was sure Vulture had been alerted to Peter's presence.

The Vulture swooped down out of the plane, it's metal wings scraping the side, narrowing missing Peter.

I flew up closer to the plane, ready to catch him should he fall.

Peter shot a web and latched on to the Vulture's wing suit then threw another web onto the side of the plane, holding the man back from making his escape.

The web attached to the Vulture snapped leaving Peter in a free fall towards the jet engine.

I rolled onto my back, my arms open. It was harder to fly this way but I kept going, keeping up with the speed of the plane.

Before he could be chopped to pieces through the turbine, Peter webbed it to a stop, impacting hard.

The jet engine fell out the back, the webbing catching fire.

Peter crawled back up to the top of the plane, still fighting.

In an attempt to knock Peter off, the Vulture's metal wing cut through the second jet engine, damaging it to the point where it was orange and smoking.

I cursed. The plane could easily go down if the last two turbines were taken out.

Now on top of the plane, Peter dodged out of the way once again as the Vulture attempted to strike him down.

I moved from underneath the belly of the plane to flying above. Now, the Vulture had definitely seen me. He reared up a wing to try and swat me away.

I kept pushing through but I was utterly exhausted.

As I looked down at Peter gripping the metal roof, I realized the plane was losing altitude beneath me.