Please excuse any mistakes that have been made regarding the script/ events of these scenes as I am writing this purely from memory.
Also please excuse all the errors, most of this ended up up getting written on my phone and editing was very rushed so I don't think it turned out the best.
This is the second part of an earlier imagine, requested by anonymous.
The walk home was slow and tiring. Very few cars rushed past along the dark roads and it only added to the lonely feeling inside your heart. You hated the fact that Peter had to run off to save New York, leaving you behind. You hated how useless it made you feel, knowing there was absolutely nothing you could do to help the situation.
With no date, you had decided it was best for you not to stay at the school dance. Your friends would probably have noticed your mood and you really didn't feel like questions. Before your departure from the school, you had merely sent Liz a text, telling her that you weren't feeling so good and were going home. Hopefully she would accept your excuse and say no more about it.
Turning a corner onto a new street, you decided to take a short-cut home. You knew that if ... when Peter managed to take down Vulture, you would be the first person he would come to find and at the moment, it seemed that there was nothing left to do but wait until that happened.
A light wind blew across your face and you shivered in your sleeveless dress. Crossing your arms across your best, you ducked your head, and began to walk faster, wanting to get out of the cold as soon as possible.
"Hello, Y/N," a cold voice said behind you and you froze. No, it couldn't be him. He said he would leave you alone. He said he wouldn't touch you or Peter. There was no way he could have know about what your boyfriend was doing... was there?
Slowly, you spun around, your gaze meeting his dark eyes. A chill shot down your spine.
"What are you doing here?"
Toomes laughed; that cold, terrifying laugh that made you wish you had decided to stay at the dance.
"Please, Y/N, don't pretend."
"You promised," you whimpered, stepping away from him. "You said that you would let us go. You -"
"I know what I said," growled Toomes as he moved towards you. You hastily backed up, almost tripping over your own feet. "And I would have kept my word. But I also know that Peter isn't going to let up. I know that he's going to try and oppose me so I decided that I needed leverage."
Your blood ran cold at his words and you stumbled backwards, suddenly understanding what he was going to do.
However, Toomes was too quick and his hand clamped around your arm.
You opened your mouth to scream as he pulled your towards him but he slammed his free hand over your mouth, muffling the sound. His Vulture wings whirred and then you were airborne. Your eyes widened to an impossible size as you watched the buildings and streets grow distant beneath you.
Toomes laughed, the sound even more haunting as it filtered through the visor that he had pulled over his face.
"Now, the fun begins."
-
It was completely dark the next time you opened your eyes. The air was cold and smelled damp, like mildew mixed with something else, chemicals maybe. You groaned as you tried to move, finding your arms were bound tightly to your sides.
There was a cracking behind you and you jumped, blinking a few times to clear your eyes. The view in front of you began to take shape, what you had once throught to be pitch black now morphing into a dimly lit warehouse.
"Hello, Y/N."
You jumped and tried to turn your head, wincing as a splitting headache burst in your temples. There was a cold laugh.
Squinting through your streaming eyes, you felt your blood chill when you saw Toomes standing about a metre away, his back to you as he worked on something at a table. He was no longer wearing his Vulture wings yet the menacing gleam in his eyes was enough on its own to send a jolt of fear through your body.
You began to struggle, desperately trying to get to your feet only to find that there seemed to be chains wrapped across your body that bound you to the leg of the metal table Toomes was working on.
Looking around in confusion, you tried desperately to hold back your tears.
"What are you going to do to me?"
Toomes chuckled, taking a swing from a beer bottle that was balanced on the table. "You? Oh, nothing. You're just bait."
Your eyebrows furrowed.
"Bait for who?"
Toomes grinned widely, finally turning his head properly to look at you. "Don't play dumb with me, Y/N. We both know who I'm waiting for."
You shook your head, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to hold back your tears. "Please," you whispered, your voice choked, "please don't hurt him."
Toomes laughed loudly, and made his way towards you, kneeling down before your trembling form. Gently, he placed his fingers underneath your chin and tilted your head up ever so slightly.
"Oh, Y/N. The only way Peter will get hurt is if he doesn't comply."
Tears began to roll down your cheeks as you looked up into the eyes of your best friend's father. Slowly you tried to shake your head but he just smiled, reaching into his pocket to get something.
"Now, he started, showing you what he held in his hand, "I'm going to need you to stay quiet. Can you do that?"
Your eyes widened as you saw the strip of grey fabric that he held between his fingers and your pulled desperately on the chains that tied you down, with no luck. Toomes smiled idly as he reached around your head with the fabric, forcing it between your teeth as he did so.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said as he tied a knot behind your head, securing the gag, "I did like you. I really did. After hearing everything Liz has said about you, I know that you're a nice girl. It's just that ... I need to stop Peter from interfering in my life and you're standing in the way of that."
Turning to the table, he picked up a small, black box from it. Your eyes widened and you frantically began to struggle again, pulling so hard at the chain that bruises began to form all along your arms and torso.
Toomes watched you stoically, his dark eyes cold.
"You know," he said, kneeling down again and holding up the object in his hand, "I'm not a big fan of tazors. Primitive if you ask me. But, I have to admit, they are useful for one thing." He grabbed your upper arm tightly, insantly stopping your struggling, and gave you a sympathetic smile.
"Hold still, Gumdrop." With that, he pressed the tazor to your stomach, watching sadly as you writhed from the volts of electricity that coursed through your body.
-
Peter's footsteps were quiet as he made his way through the dark warehouse. His heart was still pounding after his fight with 'The Shocker' and then his disastrous rampage through New York in Flash's stolen car and he couldn't stop worrying about Y/N. When he had left her, she had looked terrified and he couldn't help the guilt that was building inside him for abandoning her.
As he slipped silently through the large building, he could almost hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Any second now, Toomes was going to jump out on him.
But that never happened and soon he was passing through a wide doorway to see none other than Toomes himself standing at a table on the opposite side of a large room, his back turned to Peter.
"Hey!"
Toomes' head lifted at Peter's yell and a sinister smile spread across his face. Slowly he turned to face the teen, watching as the boy advanced on him out of the darkness.
"Surprised?" Peter asked and Toomes smiled at him.
"Hey, Pete. I didn't hear you come in."
"It's over," Peter told him as he continued to walk forward. "I've got you."
Toomes tilted his head slightly to the side, that smile still fixed on his features. "You know, I gotta tell you, Pete ... I really admire your grit." He nodded slowly. "I see why Y/N and Liz like you. I do."
"How could you do this to Liz?" Peter asked solemnly. Toomes raised an eyebrow.
"To her? I'm not doing anything to her, Pete. I'm doing this for her."
Peter scoffed. "Yeah?"
"Peter ... " Toomes said, "you're young. You don't understand how the world works."
"I understand that selling weapons to criminals is wrong!" Peter argued, pointing a finger at the older man.
Toomes' eyes flashed. "How do you think your buddy Stark paid for that tower? Or any of his little toys? Those people, Pete, those people up there, the rich and the powerful, they do whatever they want. Guys like us, like you and me ... " he laughed coldly, "they don't care about us. We build their roads and we fight their wars and everything ... but they don't care. We have to pick up after them. We have to eat their table scraps. That's how it is. I know you know what I'm talking about, Peter."
Peter stared at him. "Why are you telling me this?"
Toomes shrugged, beginning to inch his way towards a single door in the wall behind him. Peter's eyes narrowed as he opened it and disappeared inside.
"Hey-!"
However, Toomes was already back, dragging something behind him. "Because I want you to understand," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the teenager. "And ... I need a little time to get her air borne."
Spinning around, he swung whatever he was carrying around with him, letting it fall by his feet. Peter gasped when he realized what - or, moreover, who it was. Y/N. Her body was wrapped in chains that held her arms to her sides and her legs together and there was a gag in her mouth. She seemed to be barely awake, her eyes open but hazy and unfocussed and there was a small trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth.
"Y/N," Peter started and stepped forward however there was a loud crash behind him, forcing him to spin around. His eyes widened as he saw a remodeled version of Toomes' Vulture suit speeding towards him and was forced to quickly leapt out the way to avoid being decapitated. The wings flew around the room, crashing into pillars as they did so andgiving Peter no time to try and get to Y/N as it shot past him time and time again. The boy back-flipped off one of the concrete supports, his gaze watching the suit as it proceeded to obliterate another two pillars.
"I'm sorry, Peter," Toomes said and the boy spun to look at him.
"What are you talking about? That thing hasn't even touched me yet."
Y/N made an incoherent noise and Peter made to move to her side but Toomes held up a hand.
"True," he said, referring to Peter's earlier words. "But then ... it wasn't really trying to."
As the wing crashed through the last of the support beams, Peter's eyes widened in realization and he stepped forward, too late. There was an almighty crack and Peter lifted his gaze to the ceiling, only to see huge chunks of concrete crashing down on top of him.
Y/N whimpered through the gag, desperately trying to move her heavy limps and break free. However her head hurt too much and she collapsed back to the ground, tears streaming down her face as she stared at the pile of rock that covered her boyfriend. Toomes barely sent her a second glance, his attention focused on a walkie-talkie that was in his hand.
"Okay! Yeah, yeah!" he yelled angrily into it before dropping it onto the table. Y/N struggled again at her bonds, her strength slowly returning to her. Toomes started at the pile of rubble for a few seconds more before shooting a last look towards the collapsed girl.
"Stay there," he growled before spinning on his heel and running in the direction of the door, soon disappearing into the dark.
-
Your head flopped backwards as the tears fell freely. You could hardly bare to look at the broken concrete in the center of the room, however it seemed that your eyes refused to move from that spot. Peter was under there. Your boyfriend was under there and you needed to get to him. What if he was hurt? What if he was - no. You shook your head, refusing to think about that. No, he couldn't be.
Straining against the chains, your fingers scrabbled as you tried to find the end. Your fingers finally caught hold of it and you pulled as hard as you could. The chains shifted and your eyes widened. You tugged harder, desperate to get free. For a second the bindings didn't budge and you felt your stomach drop. But then with one particularly strong yank, the end of the chain jumped free and began to unravel from your shoulders. You let out a yelp as it unwound from your bruised body but tried to ignore the pain and carry on pulling. Finally the chain fell away from your ankles and you stumbled to your feet, leaning heavily on the table next to you. The world listed heavily to the side and you could hear a low buzzing sound in your ears but you tried your best to push it away. Your arm shook as you pulled the gag out of your mouth, almost collapsing back to the ground with the effort. But no, you couldn't. You need to get to Peter. You needed to find him and make sure her was ok. You -
Suddenly there was a yell. Your whole body froze and you looked up, desperately trying to focus your vision. Did that rock just move?
"P-Peter?" you asked hoarsely, your voice barely above a whisper. There was no answer but a small pebble rolled down off one of the pieces of concrete. Ok, that rock defiantely just moved.
Forcing yourself to stand up properly, you watched in awe as the two biggest pieces of concrete began to fold outwards, pushed by something in the middle. There was another yell of pain and then the rocks crashed to the ground loudly, revealing the figure of a teenage boy who promptly crumpled to the ground.
"Peter," you muttered, beginning to stumble you way towards him.
"Peter!"
Reaching his collapsed form, you fell to your knees, tears running down your face at an almost hysterical pace by now.
"Oh, God," you mumbled, your hands shaking desperately as you looked at your boyfriend. "Oh my God, Peter, please ... please be OK, please be ..."
Your hand landed on his chest and you almost choked as you felt his heartbeat, strong and steady, if not a little fast. "Thank God!" Leaning forward, you rested your head against him chest, your shoulders shaking with sobs. "Thank you, thank you," you whispered to no one, revelling in the steady thud of his heart.
You weren't sure how long you lay there, crying in Peter's Spiderman onsie. It could have been hours, it could have been only minutes. All you knew was that your eyes closed and when you opened them something was moving through your hair.
Your eyes widened and you quickly lifted your head to see that your boyfriend's brown eyes were open.
"Peter?" you whispered, your voice thick with tears. He blinked a few times before looking at you and his eyes widened. "Y/N?"
You let out a laugh and dove at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and burying your face in his hoodie. Peter laughed and slowly sat up, his arms looping around your body as he did so.
"Holy cow, Peter," you mumbled into his ear, "don't you ever do that to me again!"
Peter shook his head and you could feel his arms shaking.
"What about you," he said hoarsely, suddenly pulling back to look into your eyes. "He had you tied up? Are you OK? God, Y/N, if he did anything to you, I swear I'll-"
You placed a finger over his lips, shaking your head.
"Don't worry about that now. He just dropped half a building in you, Pete, I don't think it's me we should be worried about."
Peter gave a small smile and pulled you back into a hug. "I'm never letting you go again."
You smiled at his words, closing your eyes as you breathed in his familiar scent. "Please don't."
-
"Peter, are you sure you're up for this?" you asked worriedly as you helped your boyfriend limp his way out of the warehouse. Peter sighed and shook his head.
"I need to stop Liz's dad, Y/N. It doesn't matter if I'm up for it or not."
You bit your lip in worry. "He just dropped a building on you, Peter. I think you have excuse to sit this one out. Maybe try calling Mr Stark or Happy?"
Peter shook his head. "Already did. Tony's not interested and Happy doesn't want to listen to me. I'm on my own for this."
Suddenly his whole body froze, his gaze moving to something above your head. You followed his eyes, squinting as you saw exactly what he was looking at.
"What is that?"
Peter's expression was grim as he replied. "It's him.
High above you, sitting astride a huge advertisement board, was Toomes. The wings of his Vulture suit were up, shielding him from the view of any person who happened to look up and see him but you knew those wings anywhere. It was definately him.
"What's he planning to do?" you asked as the weight of fear dropped into your stomach.
"He's going to rob Tony Stark."
You turned to Peter in confusion. "Rob Tony Stark? But how -?"
"He's going after the plane that is transferring everything from Avengers Tower to their new facility upstate."
Peter's dark eyes were worried as he stared up at his enemy.
"Y/N," he started suddenly, turning to look at you. "If I don't come back ..."
You frowned at him, reaching up to place you hand over his mouth. "Don't say that, Peter," you said quietly. "Please don't start with the whole goodbye thing."
He sighed, gently grabbing your hand and pulling it away from his mouth. His fingers laced with your aways he looked down at you. "I'm just saying that there's aways chance-"
"No, Peter." You stared up at him, your expression set firmly. "I'm coming with you."
Peter's gaze lowered to the floor and he let out a sigh. "It's too dangerous, Y/N," he began softly. "If you got hurt ... I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Seeing you tied up by him earlier, it was ..." he looked up at you and you were shocked to see tears glistening in his eyes, "it physically hurts me to see you in pain. It was my fault he captured you, Y/N. He's using you to get to me and ... it's working. You're my weak spot, I can't lose you. I love you."
You watched him in awe, your heart pounding inside your chest. Slowly sliding your hands up his shoulders to hold his face, you pulled his lips down to yours and kissed him softly, reveling in the feeling of him kissing you back.
"I love you too, Peter," you mumbled against his lips. "Which is why I'm coming with you."
He stared down at you in complete adoration. "It's dangerous, Y/N."
"I know," you replied firmly. "And I might not have super strength or reflexes but I know how planes work, Peter. Remember that science project that I absolutely hated?"
Peter chuckled. "When you were partnered with Flash?"
You nodded your head. "Yes. That project was on jets. And although I despised my partner, I didn't hate the topic. If I could get inside that plane, I could notify the people in control of it about Toomes."
Although Peter still looked skeptical, you could see that his armor was starting to melt. Gently you touched his cheek and looked pleadingly into his eyes. "Please, Pete. I can help."
Peter let out a long sighed and finally nodded his head. "Fine. But if he so much as looks in your direction, I'm getting you out of there. And you have to promise to try and stay as far away from him as possible."
You raised your hand, your pinky out-stretched and lifted a single eyebrow at your boyfriend. He chuckled as he saw your gesture.
"I'll stay away from him," you started, staring Peter right in the eye, "if you swear to me that when this is all over, you'll be safe and fine and we can have a Star Wars movie marathon."
Peter smirked, hooking his pinky around yours. "I promise," he whispered quietly. You nodded. "Then, I promise too. Now," you gently let go of his hand, "let's go get that douchebag."
-
You clung tightly to Peter as the pair of you swung through the air. One of his arms was wrapped securely around your waist, holding your body close to him, while the other was holding the end of one of his webs. The other end of the web was stuck to the back of Toomes' suit and, fortunately for you, the man hadn't seemed to notice you two hitching a ride as he soared higher and higher into the air, chasing after the airplane that had just left Avengers Tower.
Looking down, you let out a small yelp as you saw the lights of New York disappearing far below you. Clouds had closed in around you and Peter, and the cold air was like knifes on your exposed arms and legs. You buried your face in Peter's shoulder, trying to block out the sudden sickening feeling the was rising in your stomach the more you looked down at the rapidly fading lights below you.
"There's the jet."
You barely heard Peter's voice over the roar of the wind. Lifting your head, you squinted through your hair. The plane was indeed appearing out of the clouds in front of you and as you watched it, you felt Peter's body stiffening a little.
"He's slowing down," he said and began to adjust his grip on you. "I'm going to have to web the plane. Don't let go of me, you got that?"
You nodded, almost laughing. "Believe me, Peter, letting go of you is that last thing I'm planning on doing."
As Toomes reached the plane, his wings began to fold upwards, attaching themselves to the underside of the aircraft and encasing him inside a sort of triangle. As the suit seemed to lock in place, Peter shot another web, this time at the belly of the plane, and hung on. Slowly, he began to climb his way along the smooth metal surface, stopping every now and then to make sure you were alright. It was only when he crawled all the way up the side of the plane, to where the side door leaning inside was did he finally stop. Turning, he looked down at you through the eyes of his homemade mask.
"You're going to get inside," he yelled over the wind. "I'm pretty sure Toomes is going to find a way in as well so you'll have to hide when he does. But, try to get to the cockpit and contact someone. Tell them what happened and see if they can bring the plane back to the ground. I'll come for you as soon as I can."
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck in a final hug. "Don't get hurt," you mumbled in his ear. Peter chuckled quietly. "I'll try not to."
Leaning across you, he pressed the emergency button on the outside of the door. There was a soft hiss and then the door clicked. Peter quickly grabbed it, struggling to hold it open against the force of the wind.
"Go!" he yelled and you nodded. Scrambled out of his arms, you threw yourself through the opening. Your body landed hard on the metal floor, jarring your arm especially badly, but you ignored the pain and sat up just in time to see the door slam closed again and instantly re-seal itself. Pushing yourself upwards, you held onto your arm as you stumbled towards the door the led into the main storage area. However before you could get there, there was a loud scrape of metal. You quickly ducked back behind the wall, your heart beating so fast your were surprised it didn't burst. Your panic began to rise as slow footsteps echoed against the metal floor.
There was an echoing clang and then ... silence. You bit your lip to stop your teeth from chattering and slowly peeked your head around the wall, just enough to see what was happening.
Toomes stood by one of the large crates. The lid was open, revealing rows upon rows of cylinders glowing with bright white light. Arc reactors, as Peter had told you during one of his rants about how cool Tony Stark was. They were supposedly very valuable because they were what powered all of Mr Stark's Iron Man suites, and by the look on Toomes' face he certainly thought so.
You watched as the man made his way around the whole storage area, opening different crates and looking through the contents, his eyes sparkling dangerously.
Come on, Peter, you thought to yourself, where are you?
Almost as if the boy had heard you, there was a loud scraping sound from outside the plate and then air began to rush into the opening Toomes had made in the floor. The man instantly turned to look at it before letting out a loud growl and rushed in the direction of the cockpit.
"Parker!" you heard him exclaim loudly and your heart skipped a beat.
In no time Toomes returned, jumping back down through the opening. The glowing purple lines disappeared and then the hole was gone, replaced by solid metal. There was a sudden jerk and you stumbled a little to the side, grabbing onto the wall to steady yourself.
After regaining your balance, you moved out of your hiding spot and back into the main storage area, heading for the cockpit.
Upon reaching it, the first thing you noticed were the many screens that dominated most of the room, each showing the view of one of the cameras on the outside of the plane.
Moving are the small room, you looked for the familiar pattern of buttons and knobs that was the communications system. However before you could find it, your eyes was caught by one of the screens.
Your hand came up to your mouth as you watched what was happened and you fought the strong urge to choke on the rising tide of panic that was moving up your throat.
The screen showed a view of one of the plane's wings and you were horrified to see that Toomes and Peter were out there, both fighting for their lives. And Peter seemed to be losing.
You watched in horror as Toomes picked Peter up and threw him as hard as he could towards one of the engines. Peter desperately shot webbing, hoping to stop the engine before it crushed him. But then he disappeared inside it was an almighty clang and a shudder that shook the entire plane.
You turned away from the screen, tears beginning to trickle down your face. Whether or not Peter had made it out of that, you didn't want to continue watching, preferring to focus on the task at hand.
Moving back towards the communications panel, you frantically began to press different buttons and turn knobs in the hopes of somehow coming into contact with whoever was supposed to be in control of the jet. Maybe it was Happy, maybe it was Tony Stark, but at that point you no longer cared. All you knew was that your boyfriend was fighting a lunatic on the outside of a stolen jet and you needed to talk to someone else and let them take the strain of what was going on for a while.
There was a loud crackling sound. It filled the whole cockpit and sent tingles of discomfort running down your spine.
Then a faint voice began to speak. You couldn't make out what it was saying over the crackling but it was definately there.
Leaning forward, you said, "H-Hello?"
Your voice was thick with tears, your heart heavy with the knowledge that your boyfriend could be dead yet you pushed all of that away and tried to focus our best on the task at hand.
"Hello?" you said again, louder and clearer this time. The crackling continued on, and on, for so long that you almost began to think that you'd lost the person. But then ... "What the hell?"
"Please," you began desperately, "you need to help me. Your jet's been stolen by -"
Suddenly there was an almighty shudder and the entire plane lurched one side. You stumbled and fell against one wall, the back of your head colliding against the metal with a loud clang.
Opening your eyes, you blinked furiously as the world swam around you. Your fingers searched the wall behind you for something to cling onto yet you found nothing and your knees collapsed. As you sank to the floor, you turned your head a little to look out the cockpit door and into the main area of the jet. From the roof, metallic crunches could be heard and soon enough you saw the tip of something jagged beginning to break through.
Then there was another loud clang and everything stopped. You sat frozen, every nerve in your body tense as you waited for Toomes to burst through the roof of the jet. Seconds of silence ticked by, broken only by the loud thudding for your heart.
But nothing was happening.
Slowly, you pulled yourself to your feet, cradling your right arm gingerly as you did so. Your knees were shaking as you stepped out of the cockpit and your gaze was fixed on the roof. Deep scars littered the once smooth metal, holes that had been carved out by immense strength from above. It was a miracle that the roof hadn't ruptured completely.
"Oh gosh, where are you, Peter?" you whispered to yourself before turning and stumbling back into the cockpit.
As soon as you reached the control panel, you hastily began to press buttons, hoping desperately for any results. The longer the silence outside lasted, the more your dread and fear began to grow. If Peter had defeated Toomes, he would surely find a way to let you know and then get the both of you back to the ground. But if Toomes had found a way to hurt Peter . . . You didn't even want to think about that.
"Come on," you mumbled to yourself. "Come on!"
Your fingers were shaking desperately as you pressed one last button. And then the entire plane seemed to shudder violently, sending you stumbling into the wall again.
You cried out as the side of your head smacked against some kind of lever, trying to blink through the throbbing pain.
All around you metal groaned loudly. You had the vague sensation that the plane was turning but didn't really think much of it as you tried to sort through your hazy vision and streaming eyes. There seemed to be something hammering loudly on the inside of your temples, a constant throb of pain that didn't seem to be going away any time soon. You got to your feet only to find that your legs were almost so wobbly that they couldn't support you. Pushing yourself back towards the control panel, you used it as a support as you looked out the window in front of you.
Yellow lights floated in your vision and it took you a few seconds to realise that they were not, in fact, in your head but rather very, very real.
Your eyes widened as you watched New York City passing by below you, the lights seeming to get bigger and bigger.
Your hand flew to your mouth, stifling the small scream that threatened to escape as you watched an amusement park ride pass by, so close you could make out the details of paint on its side.
"Shoot, shoot, shoot," you muttered to yourself and spun around, rushing as fast as you could back towards the door you had entered from. You knew the plane was going to crash, whether or not Spiderman had managed to get the fight under control, and you also knew that if you didn't get out right now there was a chance that you could get seriously injured.
Pressing down on the lever, you threw all your weight against the metal door. It opened, and you struggled to hold it as you stared down at the ground below you. Luckily, the tarmac roads and concrete sidewalks had given way to sand, something that would surely help to soften your fall even the tiniest bit.
"Come on, Y/N," you mumbled to yourself as you marvelled at the scene below you, "You can do it. It won't be so bad. In three ... two ... one ... now!"
You jumped.
Your body hit the ground with a loud thud. The impact jarred your kneels and you collapsed sideways, rolling a few feet before coming to a sickening halt. Your head was spinning, there was a strange ringing sound in your left ear and your vision seemed to have blurred together into one large orange splodge.
Your eyelids felt heavy as you tried to push yourself into an upright sitting position. Your hands slipped against the cool sand beneath you and you flopped backwards, your back hitting the ground again.
"Peter," you mumbled lowly, desperately trying to keep your eyes open and focused on the night sky above you. But the pull towards sleep was too strong and for the second time that night you dropped off into the dark oblivion of unconciousness.
-
When you awoke the first thing you noticed was how stiff your body was. The second was that nothing seemed to have changed from the time you had passed out.
Blinking furiously, you managed to sit up. You still felt a little dizzy hut it seemed like most of the spinning had been replaced by a pounding headache. Rolling over into your knees, you placed your palm to the sand in an attempt to steady your body as you got to your feet.
It was still dark, and the debris from the wrecked plane was still burning in a long trail down the beach. As you stood wobbly, your eyes followed the path the wreckage had made and you saw in the far distance two figures. They were locked in battle, spinning and diving through the air at each other.
You felt as though someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of your shirt.
"Peter!"
Your feet began to move, almost on their own accord, and before your knew it you had broken into a shuffling run - if you could call that a run - in the direction of the two people.
"Peter!" you mumbled to yourself as you moved, your voice hoarse and cracked. Sand scuffed under your feet as you moved and every Joe and then you were forced to stop to avoid running straight into a chunk of twsited metal.
Before you, it seemed that one of the fighters was getting the upper hand. He was dangling his opponent high above the ground by what seemed to be a huge arm. This fact alone gave you pretty solid evidence that Peter was not winning the fight and it only fueled your desire to reach your boyfriend even more.
"Peter!" you called loudly, finally close enough to know that if he was conscious, he could probably hear you. "Peter."
Unfortunately, Toomes could also hear your words and almost as soon as you spoke his hard gaze that urged to see you standing before him.
"Bingo."
The word came out harsh and cold. You watched in horror as Toomes dropped Peter to the ground roughly and began that urged advance on you, suddenly realising his intentions. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to yell Peter's name so loudly.
"D-Don't touch me," you spat when Toomes was along a few feet away. He just laughed coldly.
"Please, sweetheart, I can do whatever I want."
Behind him, Peter was finally beginning to stir. You stared desperatly at him, praying that he would wake up and somehow know how to help you.
You watched as your boyfriend raised his head, his eyes widening as he spotted you.
"Y-Y/N? Wait..."
You let out a yelp as Toomes' claw-like arm clamped around your waist, his immense strength enough to lift you off the ground even after battling a Peter for so long.
"No!" Peter said desperatly ass he watched Toomes begin to raise himself into the air. Blue and white sparks were raining down from the wing suit and yet Toomes didn't seem to jot ice, his soul purposegetting you and leaving to hide in some warehouse again.
"Your wing suit-"
"Peter!" you called out, trying to fight your way out of Toomes' iron grip. "Peter help!"
"Your wing suit! It's going to explode!" the boy yelled yet Toomes still paid no mind to him.
"No," Peter said to himself as he raise his Sam in one last desperate attempt to save you. Webbing flew from his writs and stuck to the back of the wing suit, the force that Toomes had gathered managing to pull him to his feet immediately. Toomes turned, a triumphant smile on his face as he gazed down at Peter, barely seeming to notice your frantic scrabbling at his arm.
"Time to go home, Pete," he called to the young boy. Peter shook his head.
"I'm trying to save you!" he called desperately, holding onto the website with all the strength he lad left in him. Toomes simply shook his head and your Ned away, breaking the lifeline in the process. Peter fell backwards onto the sand and you kettle out a scream. "No!"
Toomes was laughing as he forced the wing suit gig her into the air. "Don't worry, Y/N. You'll see your Peter again. Maybe."
You kicked your legs frantically and hit your hands against his arm to no avail. "Please!" You cried, feeling the tears running thick and fast down your cheeks.
"Please. It's gonna - just please got down.
"Don't worry," Toomes assisted you, his voice menacing, "nothing's gonna-"
There was a loud crackling. You froze, your eyes going to the device on Toomes's back. Even Toomes himself seemed to have noticed that something was wrong because his face fell and his eyes widened ever so slightly.
"I-" he began before there was another crack.
"No!" Peter screamed from the ground. Desperately he tried to shoot more webs but his web-shooters seemed to be empty.
"No! Y/N!"
Then there was a loud BOOM! and the wing suit blew up in a rainbow of fire and metal.
-
Peter's footsteps seemed loud against the thick sand. His breaths were hitched, his throat raw and his eyes streamed as he frantically stumbled in circles through the orange flames that licked up pieces of metal.
"Come on," he frequently muttered to himself, his eyes desperately scanning his surroundings for something - anything - that showed you were alive.
Spotting the remains of the wing suit, the boy ran towards it. His fingers burned as he touched the scolding metal and he let out a yelp as he lifted the heavy piece of equipment. Throwing it away, he looked down at the sight before him, his heart filling up with hatred as he saw Adrian Toomes lying on his back half buried in the sand. You were barely half a metre away from the man, sprawled face down with your limps spread out at odd angles around you.
Hoisting your body over one shoulder and Toomes' over the other, Peter stumbled his way out of the fire ridden land and towards clear sand, where he collapsed onto his knees.
Toomes slid roughly from his hold, stirring as he hit the ground beside Peter. You were unconcious and Peter refused to let you go, holding your body close to him as he glared at Toomes.
"You could have killed her," he growled at the older man, his hand gently stroking your hair. "Why?"
Toomes almost seemed to shrug.
"I had a family to take care of, Pete," he said tiredly. "And you'll do anything for family, even if it kills you. Right?"
Peter let out a dry chuckle. "Yes," he said, his gaze flickering momentarily to your crumpled form. "Yes, I know."
-
By the time the police arrive at the sight of the jet crash you and Peter were long gone. After tying up Toomes and making sure he was secure, Peter had picked up your unconscious body and swung away to settle at the top of the Cyclone at the nearby amusement park.
You sat together at the very top, your back against Peter's chest and your head resting on his shoulder as the pair of your watched what was going on at the beach from afar.
"I suppose it's all over now," he mumbled to himself. You, after only gaining consciousness minutes before, hummed quietly in response, your eyes closed as you allowed yourself to enjoy the feeling of your boyfriend's warmth around you.
"I hope it is."
Peter smirked, turning his head down a little to look at you. "You do? I dunno, I think I kinda liked having a damsel in distress to save for once."
You made a face, shuffling slightly to the side to look up at him.
"I'll be your damsel, Peter. Just not when there's a psychotic weapons dealer set on taking you down."
Peter brushed a strand of your hair away from your face, his brown eyes taking in your features adoringly. "You know I love you, right?"
"I love you too," you told him. "But I'm never going to another dance with you again."
Peter's mouth hung open. "Come on, just because this one got messed up doesn't mean future dances will be terrible!"
You shook your head determinedly. "Nope. All dances are horrible, end of story."
Peter's fingers were soft as they brushed against your jaw.
"Fine," he mumbled as he leaned a little closer. "I'll agree with you. But only if we get to try have a normal Homecoming next year."
You smiled. "Deal."
And with that, your lips met his and you were finally home.
Damn, that took a long time to write. Half of it got deleted and recently my internet stopped working, which is why this update is a week late. Anyway, exams start on Friday (oh joy) so I'm not sure how consistent my writing will be for the next two-ish weeks.