There Will Be Blood
The sound of chaos erupted his every sense, a disastrous symphony yanking him from the grip of unconsciousness, consuming the space around him; ricocheting the walls with the onslaught of excessive, brutal violence — pandemonium reigned, bullets tore through the air, lasers blasted with intense heat; heroes of all kind were tossed aside with cries and shouts tangled in the depths of warfare—
—and Peter could see absolutely none of it.
“What the FLARK is th—!?”
“—Rocket, get down!”
“I AM down!”
“I am Groot!”
“Stark!” Steve’s splintered shout cut through it all. “What's going on—?!”
“—I don’t know!” Tony couldn’t get the volume of his voice to reach over the deafening shots that fired from all around; his rampant repulsor blasts only adding to the mayhem.
Flat on his back and strapped to the metal table below him, Peter struggled to pry his eyelids apart, his vision barely catching glimpses of the destruction — light seeped in from the thin slits his efforts granted him, but the strength to keep them open was as fleeting as each beat of his pulse.
All he could do was watch as the chaos unfolded — his eyes flicking back and forth like lazy, heavy ping-pong balls.
“What’s the plan here, guys!?” Clint’s holler tore his throat dry, cracking his words at the tail end.
All for Sam to shout back, “Shoot your damn arrows at it, that’s the plan!”
At this point, with how little anything made sense, Peter wasn’t even sure he was still alive. It wouldn’t surprise him if this was some sort of twisted, wild purgatory that only his bad luck would manage to pull off.
“ƓⱤⰗU̶̜͆U̵͔̚U̴̻̕U̵̱͠ⱲẂ̶͔L̴̹̉Ḽ̴̏Ľ̷̮L̵̘͌L̸̻̏L̷̹̓Ḷ̴̆!̵̴͚̫͍̫̐̒͛͊”̸̴̘̼̦͆͋͊͜͝„̸̶̠͖̺̺̽̿͒̌¡̴̸̘͓̟̦̈́͊̑˥̵̶̘͇̺͆̽̔͋˥̸̵̢̻̦̥̐̿̓̚!̵͍͚͖͋́̚"̸͙̟̫̈́̽̈́ ̸͓͍̟̔̓͝ !❞
His eyes fluttered as they threatened to roll back completely, unconsciousness quick to take over, the whites briefly flickering before a figure passed overhead — flew overhead, startling them wide open.
“Where the hell is Banner!?” Tony’s explosive outburst was met with the explosives of his weapons. “We need him to try, goddamnit! Now’s not the time to be shy!”
Each harsh, narrow-focused blast from his palms blew air across Peter’s face, repulsor beams tearing across the room with equal amounts of flames chasing in their path, lighting up the lab with a dazzle of blistering hues.
“I am Groot!”
“Groot, no! Stop!” Gamora’s scream barely reached above the noise. “Stay back!”
“I AM GROOT!”
The sweltering wave of heat that washed over Peter nearly warmed the chill deep in his bones. It made the lull of conscious escape all the stronger, dragging him into the sweet pull of blissful sleep.
Yet still, his arm twitched against the straps holding him down. Awareness may have been receding, but he didn’t need his spider-sense to know that holy shit Parker, time to do something — quick!
The panic repeated in his head like a mantra as each tug grew weaker and weaker.
“Will somebody DO something—?!”
A resounding CLANG interrupted Bucky as Vibranium metal shook the very walls surrounding them.
Sam was the first to snap back, “What does it look like we’re doing, man!?”
“Both of you shut up and shoot!”
The gunshots should’ve been loud enough to keep Peter awake — each startling BANG fired from Natasha’s gun filled the lab with more smoke, mixing into the ash that quickly scattered into the air.
His eyes, however, still spasmed as he fought to keep them open, the pull of gravity threatening to close them shut even with the fight raging on.
Steve’s voice sounded clear as day as he called out, “Wanda—!”
“—I am trying!” Wanda’s yell came back no different than his; panicked, on edge, desperate.
The room was big, but those who overtook it quickly filled its empty spaces — crashes sounded from every centimeter, equipment hurled each and every way, weapons fired repeatedly, unsuccessfully —
“Strange, what the hell are you waiting—!”
“—I’m a little busy keeping this entire building from burning down, Stark—!”
“Rogers—!”
“—keep shooting at it!”
Peter didn’t have the strength to do anything but cling to consciousness.
Each time his eyelids drew shut, he fought to get the tiny slits back open again.
Each time he did, the tug against his straps grew weaker than before.
The destruction continued, blending into a chaotic blur of noise that he couldn’t separate — until a faint, unmistakable singing sliced through it all, rising in pitch and volume as it drew closer his way.
“I’m a shooting star, leaping through the sky!” Quill popped into his line of sight with a smile and a wave, his jetboots quickly bringing him down from above. “Like a tiger defying the laws of gravityyyYY!”
Before Peter could blink, Quill was already pulling at the straps wrapped snugly around his ankles.
“Hey, Little Peter!” He didn’t waste a second once done with the restraint around Peter’s legs, already moving onto the next one as he kept on singing, “I’m a racing car passing by, like lady Godiva! I’m gunna go, go, go — there’s no stopping me!”
Peter could hardly lift his chin to watch, bug-eyed, as Quill continued to sing along to the music playing through the headphones nestled inside his ears.
A round of gunshots quickly fired off — his eyesight was far to blurry to see where it came from, far too hazy to see anything past Quill’s face leaning over him, closely, working in a hurry to undo his binds.
Too closely, Peter quickly realized. He couldn’t lift his chest against the weight of Quill’s figure leaning over him, desperate for what little air his lungs could drag in — already on the verge of passing out and the two-hundred-some pounds of muscle and weight on-top of him not doing anything to help.
“Damn, he got you strapped in here good, dude!” Quill finally undid the bands around Peter’s thighs and moved on to his chest. “Hang tight, I got this now! Just gotta—give it—a couple—TUGS!”
Peter blinked — hard — while Quill wrestled with the straps. His vision snapped into place just in time to catch War Machine zipping overhead in a blur of gray metal, a streak that barely registered his mind.
It looked straight out of a bad fever dream that didn’t feel real.
“Tony! I’m out of fire suppressant!” Rhodey shouted from far away, yet the repulsor blasts that sounded after the fact sounded painfully close.
Peter was almost positive now that none of this was real.
“It doesn’t matter!” Tony shouted back with a metallic timbre lacing each word. “There’s no putting it out, it just keeps reigniting—!”
“What is it!?”
“I DON’T KNOW!”
A loud roar suddenly sounded from nearby.
Quill only briefly stopped pulling at Peter’s restraints, quickly looking over his shoulder, suddenly more frantic with each tug than when he’d first started.
“Finally!” Drax’s roar nearly matched in volume to the one before it, though his outcry took far more effort to produce; his stampede shaking the very floors beneath them as he ran forward. “A beast worthy of battle!”
“Don’t, Drax!” Gamora’s shout was coated in cracks of a hoarse and smoke filled throat. “You don’t know what this thing can—!”
"₲̭͍͈ͫͧ͒Ꞧ͉̀Ꝋ̳͍̮͒ͧ̀Ʉ̪̩̠̋̌̎ͯͅɄ́ͤ̚Ⱳ̺̥̘͔͔ͫͣ͛̄̆Łᛗᴚ̤̰͚̬̐ͩͬ̏ᴚᴚͯ̀̐͒ᴚᴚͯ̀̐͒⅁ᴚͣ͒ͧ̐ᴚ͈͕͙˥̤͔̝̤̠̰ͪ͆͊ͫͮ̎˥̝͍ͣ͆ ̸͓͍̟̔̓͝ ❞
“Holy—!” Quill quickly let go of the straps in favor of ducking over Peter’s helpless form, covering the majority of his body from the flash of fire that shot outwards.
The heat overtook the room like a blast from a bomb, the waves of gale gusting through the air with scorching intensity.
The flames were close enough to singe the top of Quill’s hair, had he not quickly covered his head with the protection of his helmet.
“VISION!” Steve’s abating patience was starting to line each word ripped from deep within his chest. “We need to make a move—!”
“He takes no damage from the stone, Captain!” Vision’s cry back was just as frustrated, followed by the piercing sharp blast that proceeded to light up the room no different than the flames sparking across Peter’s fluttering eyelids.
An arrow whizzed by, right as his eyes were ready to roll back into his head.
“I don’t think that thing is a he!” Clint’s shout came with two more arrows, each failing to inflict any damage, obvious in the curses that flew out of his lips. “What the fu—!?”
“Whatever it is—!” Steve tossed his shield out, a smudge of red and blue flying across the room right along with his voice. “We need to take it down, now!”
Peter tried to hone in on that commanding voice — Captain Roger’s voice, Captain America’s voice — but even with the crowd of chaos dancing across his eyes, the strength to stay present was a strength that had already been drained out of him.
Close enough to Peter’s face that their noses were practically touching, Quill reached behind his ear to retract his helmet, using his other hand to poke a finger against Peter’s cheek — and again, and again.
“Nuh-uh, don’t do that, we’re almost outta here!” Quill kept tapping at Peter’s cheek while his other hand worked on the restraint around his neck, all as he enthusiastically sung, “I’m burning through the sky, yeah! Two hundred degrees, that’s why they call me Mister Fahrenhei—hhhhhhhaaiiiiiiiiiiiittttTTTTTTTT!”
The sudden rush of oxygen that came once Quill was thrown off his chest was enough to make Peter dizzy.
“Guhh—uhhAAAHH!”
A SMACK echoed right alongside Quill’s lingering cry, traveling with him as the hit sent him soaring across the room — so abruptly, without any warning, that he struggled to get his jetboots underneath him.
Peter didn’t hear what followed after that — a CRASH, a curse — it all morphed together in a whirlwind of violence.
It was a feat he could hear anything at all with the diminishing blood struggling to circulate through his brain.
His eyelids slid shut, and he fought to open them up again.
The glow of two straggly, strange antenna’s brushing up against his forehead was more than enough to jolt him conscious.
“Huhh—uuhuHHHhhHHH!”
The bottom of his dress shoes pressed firmly against the table as he fought to crawl away.
“Pl—ple’se—” Peter gasped on words that his vocal cords could narrowly produce, scooting further up the table; unintentionally and forcibly tugging at the needles inserted into his arms. “Ple’se d’n’t put ‘ur eggs ‘n me!”
Mantis titled her head to the side as her eyes grew wide.
“You are very scared—OFP’HPPHM!”
The beastly arm that tore Mantis away did so without hesitation; wrapping around her from the back, its palm encapsulating the width of her body, each claw shining brightly underneath the sharp, intense florescent lights of the lab.
Peter’s eyes shot wide at the sight of those claws. A hot wave off heat followed — the rampage of violence around him only grew louder.
“This thing can shoot fire, Tony!” Steve strained to be heard against the blaze of flames.
“You don’t think I haven’t noticed that!” Tony barely got his voice over the sound of his own weaponry, firing each blast desperately in an attempt at — anything.
Peter watched with glassy and dazed eyes as those beams shot overhead of him, cutting through fire and creating more destruction in their wake.
“I have been WAITING for a fight like this!”
The floors shook with such intensity that Peter could almost feel his body shaking as well.
“Drax, dude, hold on—!” Quill’s voice was swallowed whole by a slew of gunshots, repulsor blasts, and a roar unlike anything heard before as Drax belted out,
“—FIGHT ME, VILE BEAST!”
“ Ɠ N̸̸̸̸̸͙̭͊̿ N̸̸̸͙̭ N̸̸̸̸̸͙̭͊̿ Ɽ N̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̻̬̟̮͇͉N̸̸̸̸̸͙̭͊̿N̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̟̝̠̭̫͈̣ͦ͛̐̽̄͋̌ Ѧ̣̏Ѧ͇̰̤ͧ̈́͒Я̩̰̜̓ͥ̾Я̲̭̖Яͬ˥̵̥̓!❞
Blinking through the haze, Peter suddenly found himself face-to-face with something cold, stainless, and far too close to him; the gleam of surgical lights caught every glint of gold etched into shining black metal, pressed way too firmly against his chin.
“C’mon you—son of a—C’MON!”
Peter had to blink several times before his vision made any sense.
It wasn’t until too late that he realized the arm belonged to Bucky — reaching over him in a rushed attempt to undo the final restraint still tied around his wrist.
Claws reached for that black and gold arm, wrapping around the bicep and ruthlessly tossing him across the lab.
“Shh—iiiittTTTT!”
“—Buck!”
Steve’s shout was lost beneath a burst of machine gun fire, bullets ripping through the flames that lit the room ablaze.
Peter wasn’t sure which of the countless sounds belonged to Bucky; all of it blurred into a single, overwhelming clamor, soaking through his ears only to be pushed aside by hammering of his fading pulse.
The thumbing in his ears was getting louder. And further apart.
Peter knew he had to do something — now.
“Somebody wanna chime me in on what we’re doing here!?”
“Fight it, Rocket!”
“That’s your great plan, Quill!?”
Moving his eyes in the direction that led him down to his wrists, Peter could narrowly make out the restraint that had been the focus of Bucky’s attention. The skin underneath was chaffed and red, oozing with blood that seeped through the cracks torn open by the rough friction of his desperate escape.
Only now, it hung there loosely.
A weak tug, followed by one more, and suddenly—
—Peter was free.
“Do not run from me, you grotesque monster!”
Before there could even be an attempt at thinking of what to do next, Peter felt himself hurtling across the room on wheels that skidded forcibly against the floor.
“Nn’UGnguhhHHHHHHHH—!”
Drax barreled into the table at full speed, plowing forward with relentless force.
“—I will peel apart each and every one of your UNSIGHTLY SCALES!”
Everything dizzied into one kaleidoscope of motion and light. The roar that followed was muffled, noise warped underwater — until it all came crashing back into focus once Peter slammed to a halt, toppling into machines and equipment that finally shattered his momentum.
For a moment he was unaware of, everything was quiet.
Really, really quiet.
Then,
“Time for Plan B!”
The metallic timbre coated every ounce of stress that lined Tony’s shout, so loud that it echoed across the lab — seeping past Peter’s eardrum in the same synchrony as his fading pulse.
“We have a Plan B!?”
Clint’s voice tore back in desperation to be heard over the violence — Tony’s repulsors being part of that mix, firing off each blast without a break separating one from the other.
“No, but it’s time for one!”
By the time Peter realized he’d passed out, his eyelids were already peeling apart in a desperate pull of consciousness.
“Boys!” Natasha’s shout ripped through the lab with a tone of urgency foreign to her voice. “It’s time to put your big brains together and figure this out!”
It wasn’t the voices that called to his attention, each shouting out desperately, frantically — from all around him, above him and behind him.
It was the sensation against his cheek that tugged at his awareness, the sharp sting of numbness spreading across his jaw as the side of his face planted firmly on the ground beneath him.
He was on the ground.
Peter had to blink twice, sluggishly twice, before he realized he was laying on the ground.
With his cheek pressed to the floor, he watched absently as the carnage raged on from all around. Figures flew by, their limbs the only thing he could make out — jetboots left trails of hot energy while more slender legs ran forward with urgency and adrenaline.
“No!” Quill’s anguished cry could only be heard at a distance for Peter; seen only by the sight of his boots flying away. “Not my tunes!”
He watched with glazed and glassy eyes as Quill’s jetboots took off, caught in a onslaught of flames, and eventually overtaken by a pit of black smoke.
Through that cloud of ash and soot came something flying towards Peter, bouncing more times than could be counted before it finally rolled to a stop in front of his face — his eyes may have been open, but he couldn’t quite register what he was seeing.
What he could hear, however, proved to be a different story.
♫ Don't stop me
don't stop me ♫
don't stop me ♫
♫ Hey, hey, hey ♫
“I am Groot!”
“Groot, no!”
♫ Don't stop me
don't stop me ♫
ooh ♫
♫ ooh
ooh ♫
“I am GROOT!”
“Strange—!”
“—this fire is out of my control, Stark, we need to retreat!”
“What do you mean it’s out of your—!?”
♫ Don't stop me
don't stop me ♫
have a good time ♫
♫ good time
“Wanda! Vision! You need to—!”
“We are trying—!”
“Thor—!”
“—where’s Banner!?”
Peter stared at the headphones in front of him, blinking sluggishly — slowly, repetitively — until finally, his vision focused on the contents sprawled all around Quill’s music player.
The tables he’d crashed into still sprinkled down a multitude of items to the floor, each quake and tremor shaking the foundation beneath them; trays of medical equipment clattering against the tile as they fell down to where he laid, joining the Zune without a care to harming its already fragile condition.
Ash and soot sprinkled against his face, burning in Peter’s eyes, making it hard to see past the hot heat that created a warped film over everything he saw; the air itself was rippling, distorting his vision even further.
But he didn’t need clarity to register the syringe that had fallen right behind Quill’s outdated Zune player. The word ‘Epinephrine’ was written across the label in a way that even Peter’s blood-depleted brain could make out.
His hand trembled as it slid forward, fingernails raking across the floor, scraping —clawing for a grip that would get him just a little bit closer—
—a little bit closer—
♫ Don't stop me
don't stop me ♫
whoooaAAAA ♫
“I am Groot.”
Suddenly, the syringe rolled forward, brushing up against the tips of his fingers.
“I am Groot!”
Peter blinked, dazed, on a fast pace to the brink of death and still unsure that this wasn’t all some twisted dream — his eyes locked onto the tiny twig that approached him, pushing the syringe forward with both his tiny twig arms until it was snugly pressed against the soft tissue of his palm.
“I am GROOT!”
The high-pitched cry grew louder, more urgent — Peter’s blurred gaze shifted towards it, half-aware as the tree continued to push the syringe forward with a gentle but determined shove.
His fingers trembled uncontrollably as he wrapped them weakly around the glass barrel, his nails scraping against the label written across, dragging it closer towards him with what fleeting strength he could muster.
“So m’ch …” he gasped like a fish out of water as he reeled his arm in towards his chest, bringing the syringe along with him “…f’r not do’ng… ‘rugs.”
It took everything he had and some he didn’t know was in him just to get the syringe to the bite of his teeth.
Peter spit the cap out too weakly for it to do anything but fall away listlessly.
Without any hesitation, without so much a second thought — let alone a first one — he quickly, sloppily, jabbed the needle into the flesh of his neck.
“N-g’uhuuhhhhhhhhhHHHH!”
The burn alone was enough to make his eyes roll back into his skull.
“Tony! The ceiling—!”
“—we need to contain it!”
“Strange—!”
“—the roof will fall on us all if I let go, Stark!”
The rush of magic enveloped every scorched wall, every burning beam, holding the inferno back like a dam straining against a flood.
Peter, once more, could see absolutely none of it.
His eyes clenched shut tight enough to rip the skin apart, the muscles in his neck crudely and frantically spasming against the liquid plunged deep into his jugular — his shoulder buckled against the floor, his pulse raced, his every fiber screamed.
“—asha!”
“—uck, go for—!”
“—arton-!”
“—ere’s my tunes—!?”
“—where’s Groot!?”
Suddenly, the world around him rushed through his lungs.
“Guh-UHH!” A gasp filled his chest with air, so deep, so powerful, that he had no control when his entire body lurched upwards.
Peter swayed on both his feet, needle still hanging from the vein of his neck, his eyes blown wide and blazing as the room snapped into focus, every crackle of fire and burst of color slamming into him like a freight train.
“I am Grooottt!”
The small voice came from below, where he shot his head down, his eyes still wildly wide as Groot cheered and danced along to the music that kept playing.
Peter couldn’t hear that music anymore. Not over the dangerously frantic jackhammer within his ribcage, threatening to crack each bone with the sheer violence of his heartbeat — a brutal rhythm that clashed painfully with the chaos erupting around him.
“This thing isn’t taking any damage, Tony!” Rhodey’s voice ripped across the way. “If the magician says to retreat—!”
“Stand back!” The metallic pitch to his words spoke from Iron Man far more than Tony himself. “Give me deflection! Rogers —!”
“—I’m on it!”
“Will somebody—!”
“—YOU HIDEOUS BRUTE, I WILL SLAY YOU!”
Peter yanked the syringe out in one swift jerk, the motion harsh enough to sting. He didn’t have time to think about the pain — the hairs on his arm stood straight up just as a sudden rush of wind hissed past his ear.
He dodged the flying hammer just in time to avoid its path.
“HA!” A thunderous laugh somehow sliced right through all the shouting, the gunfire, the crackle of flames — it was that loud. “You are big!”
Peter blinked, hard, just in time to miss Thor as he flew right past him, dashing by with enough speed that it managed to knock him right back down to the floor.
“But I’ve fought bigger!”
The impact that occurred next might as well’ve been an earthquake.
“Ohmpppff—ffffffffHHH!” Peter grunted as he hit the floor, his shoulder smashing into a metal stand that clattered against the ground. Something sharp jabbed at his thigh, and a cart wheel spun uselessly beside his shoulder.
Beneath his tightly clenched eyelids, Peter swore he saw space.
“Shitshitshit—NO!” Quill’s hoarse shout reached over every gunshot, every sharp blast of lasers, each crash and rumble from heavy machinery that slammed against walls, breaking open drywall that quickly caught on fire. “Not my Zune — dude, that’s my ZUNE!”
Peter was still seeing space when a blast rumbled the floors, a sharp jolt that surged up his spine and yanked his eyes open.
“Oh, now you’ve done it, you flarking green bean flark face!”
Rocket’s threat came with explosion loud enough to leave Peter without any hearing, if only for a second. Not even a ring echoed through his ears, silent for just a beat — he could feel his heart gasping for each beat that followed.
Suddenly, the air was punctured with Tony’s frantic shouting.
“Strange!” Blast after blast shook the lab apart. “Don’t you dare let go of that shield—!”
“—we need to get the Parker kid and get out!”
Peter’s eyes darted back and forth, watching figure after figure fly and soar across the room.
“I know! So keep that damn shield up!”
The floors rumbled, and he nearly tipped over again — reaching out for the first thing his hands could get a grasp on.
Peter didn’t realize he was clutching a crumpled ball of fabric until another startling rumble ripped through the lab, sending him sprawling onto his side; the lights overhead flickering as air was punched clean from his lungs.
Breathless, he hadn’t even been on the floor for more than a few seconds before he started ripping into the jacket, his shaking hands desperately trying to find the pockets.
“This creature breaks through even the strongest of my magic—!”
“—Vision!”
“It remains unaffected to even our powers combined, Captain! The most destructive attempts we have made do it no harm!”
Peter looked to the side, his eyes wider than saucers as a yellow blast reflected back to him; golden and precise, slicing through the flames as Vision flew forward with it, twisting through the air with his cape flowing behind him.
“I’m already down one wing! If those two can’t stop this thing, than we need to get the hell outta—!”
Either the depletion of his body's blood supply had done him in, or the harsh effects of artificial adrenaline — the kind made strong enough to keep a beast subdued — was the cause behind his shakes. Peter wasn’t sure, all he knew was the violent, bone-deep tremors wracked his body in a way that made it nearly impossible to function.
His hand grabbed onto the small, square block more than once — more than twice. Peter clenched his chattering teeth in frustration as he fought to grab his webshooter from within his jacket; the nanotech kept the devices well disguised and practically portable, but for his current condition, it did him no good.
It only took him a few blinks for his eyes to grow hazy — even he knew the shot of adrenaline could only buy him so much more time.
The square device nearly fell out of his hand twice before Peter finally managed to smack it against his wrist, activating the nanites that wrapped around the bone and built his webshooter against the palm of his hand.
“I’m about to bring out the big guns for this guy!”
“Why didn’t you already get the big guns out, Rocket!?”
“Because maybe I didn’t wanna waste the big guns, Quill!”
“It’s a giant fire shooting abomination! USE THEM!”
The settings were the first thing to spring to life, the glow of blue lighting up his face as the holograms shot out in a spectacular show of 3D function — every bit Stark tech that something could be.
Peter’s eye twitched as he stared at those holograms, his vision suddenly intensely sharp —too sharp, wait, too blurry— he blinked frantically, trying to make focus of what was in front of him.
“I am Groot.”
An unsteady breath hitched in his chest as Peter shot his head down to the floor, looking past his legs sprawled out akimbo and the flames erupting in every direction; lighting up the room even after the electricity sparked itself out.
Groot crawled up his knee with visible effort, grunting and groaning as he did. Once near Peter’s wrist, he pointed a twig hand to the far edge of the glowing hologram.
“I am Groot!” Groot kept pointing through the image, the settings still visible but each movement he made cutting straight through the hologram.
Peter stared down at him, at a loss for — well, anything. His eyes glazed over and he swayed to the side, lost in the shining blue that reflected against his face from the technology strapped around his wrist.
“I AM GROOT!”
The piercing screech jolted him aware and awake — quick to look down at his wrist, quick to realize what he was being told.
“…t’is one?” Peter slurred, fighting to stay upright against the weight of his own body.
Groot enthusiastically nodded.
A shaking finger reached to activate his webshooter, trembling as he tapped the hologram — barely grazing it before his arm collapsed back down to his side.
Two fingers on his other hand twitched as they tried to bend inwards, curving at the joints, trembling as they crawled towards the inner palm of his hand — reaching for the shooter trigger with sheer desperation.
“ƓⱤⰗUⱲⱲ”̸͆͝„̸̶̠͖̺̺̽̿͒̌¡̴̸̘͓̟̦̈́͊̑˥̵̶̘͇̺͆̽̔͋˥̸̵̢̻̦̥̐̿̓̚!̵͍͚͖͋́̚ — !❞
“—rrrroooooooOOOOOTTTTT!”
Groot hollered, scrambling up Peter’s body as fast as his small frame would take him.
In one quick burst, he sprinted across Peter’s wrist straight toward his open palm, launching himself forward, landing squarely on the trigger of his webshooter.
The force of the web grenade hurled them both through the air.
"HrrrnnnnGGGGHHHHHHH—!"
Peter’s gasp took off into a shout as he found himself propelled across the lab, soaring freely, his body flying faster than his mind could catch up.
And then—
“—hhhUHHH!”
Mid-flight and arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Catching him abruptly, practically yanking him right out the air.
By the time Peter understood what was happening, they were already crashing to the ground, skidding across the floor in a shower of hot sparks until they finally slammed into a wall.
Glass and drywall shattered down on them both.
It caked against Peter’s face with dust, the brittle powder staining his black dress trousers as larger flakes broke apart from the collision; his white button down no longer white, still spread open where chunks of plaster left grazes across his bare chest.
“Holy COW!” Peter’s eyes blew wide open as he twisted around to look at who was braced behind him — half-shield, half-crash pad, unharmed by it all. “D’d you see ‘at, man!?”
“What the hell—?!” Iron Man’s helmet may have hidden Tony’s expression, but it was clear in his tone, echoed right against Peter’s ear. “Was that your sonic pulse web grenade!?”
The two piercing bright eyes of Iron Man’s armor nearly blinded Peter, and he was quick to notice — a little to quick to notice — that Mr. Stark was wearing a whole new suit, far more slender and vivid than the heavy armor he remembered usually seeing.
Huh.
That was kinda cool.
“U-uh, y-y-yeah…” Peter gulped, the stammer in his voice shaking as hard as the muscles in his body as he turned back ahead, dazed and shocked “…th’nk it ‘as….”
It took a disturbing amount of effort to think, let alone talk. With the helmet covering his head, there was no way for Peter to understand Tony’s reaction in pause that followed — filled with the rumbustious aftershocks of an ever growing battle continuing on just a few feet away.
By the time Peter realized why there was so much incredulity behind the question—
“Later,” he curtly dismissed. With one arm still wrapped around his waist, Tony used his other hand to reach for Peter’s chin; guiding it just enough so their eyes could meet, if only from the side. “Look at me — talk to me.”
Frantically, Peter blinked; desperately fighting the gray edges that crept in around the corners of his eyes.
In between one of those blinks, the helmet around Tony’s head retracted like melting butter, so smooth there was nothing to prove it was even there in the first place — Peter blinked even harder at that.
“You okay? You with me?” Tony moved both hands underneath Peter’s armpits, hoisting him up only for Peter to fall back against his armor like a limp noodle. “C’mon kid, eyes on me. What’d he do, how bad — Jesus, look at me, Parker!”
Before Peter knew it, he could feel a strong, cold grip on the back of his head as Tony’s gloved hand cupped the base of his skull, firmly, as if that was the only way he could keep his head up.
With Tony’s face exposed, Peter was almost positive he’d never seen the man look so worried before.
The enormously loud CRASH! that sounded from nearby stole both their attention.
“You cowardly beast!” Drax stormed through a cloud of black smoke with his fists held high and clenched hard enough to break bone. “Finish the battle!”
“Holy COW!” Peter slurred-shouted again; his eyes went wide enough to fall right to the floor, the vibrations that trembled his body suddenly no longer his own fault — the floors shook in distinct timing, jostling him as much as it did Tony.
He was still looking straight ahead when Tony’s helmet reformed around his head, nanites racing to assemble a shell of protection with seamless precision — a show of scientific wonder that was stolen from Peter as he watched, in horror, as the creature tore through walls of fire and billowing smoke, unstoppable even as the inferno tried to swallow it whole.
It took him a few stunned seconds to understand that the smoke and heat weren’t just engulfing the room — they were pouring from it. From the deep cracks of sickening green skin; scaled over with jagged, uneven callouses, blistering against the flames rising off the ridges of sinew where there should’ve been flesh.
Long, jagged horns curled from its skull, the edges flickering with red-hot embers, no different than the flames that engulfed its eyes.
Each massive step it took sent shockwaves along the broken and shattered flooring beneath them.
While Peter wasn’t entirely positive what he saw in front of him didn’t belong to his Parker Luck–fueled purgatory, he was least certain that the gigantic green being coming his way was a—
“Ever fight a monster before?” Tony’s question, echoing with a metallic cadence, went straight into Peter’s ear.
He needed a moment to process the word ‘monster’ before he shakily shook his head.
“…u-uh…n-no.” Peter gulped, painfully. “Fo’ght a—…a b-bird gu-guy, th’o.”
By the time he finally got the words out, the creature had lunged forward, a guttural roar shaking the decimated lab.
"₲̭͍͈ͫͧ͒Ꞧ͉̀ØɄɄ̂ͤͮɄ́ͤ̚Ⱳ̺̥̘͔͔ͫͣ͛̄̆Ł̂Ł̠̬̆͋̇ͅŁ˥ͮ˥ͨͥ́̅̃̀˥̂ͥ͒̄ͬ̒ͦ˥̭̩͕̳̜͂ͩ̃ͭͩ˥̝̝̳͍̠ͮ͋͊͆̂˥̪̗̬̘̭̼˥̭̙̉ͨ˥͕͔ͥ́˥˥̫ͬØØ∩ᴚ̤̰͚̬̐ͩͬ̏ᴚᴚͯ̀̐͒⅁ᴚͣ͒ͧ̐ᴚ͈͕͙ᴚͣ ØØ˥˥̂ͣ˥˥͙˥˥̬̱͕˥ͪ͆˥̝͍ͣ͆"!̵̴͚̫͍̫̐̒͛͊”̸̴̘̼̦͆͋͊͜͝„̸̶̠͖̺̺̽̿͒̌¡̴̸̘͓̟̦̈́͊̑˥̵̶̘͇̺͆̽̔͋˥̸̵̢̻̦̥̐̿̓̚!̵͍͚͖͋́̚"̸͙̟̫̈́̽̈́ ̸͓͍̟̔̓͝ ❞
The room tilted sideways as Peter found himself jostled to the side; Tony quick to aim his repulsor straight ahead, the palm of his glove glowing brighter with each step that shook the floor.
Before that repulsor could go off—
“Guh—uhhHHH!”
A fist wreathed in white hot flames knocked Tony away with a swing of vicious force, striking him hard — the impact hurling him through the air.
Peter ripped himself away, a webline snapping out and yanking him halfway across the lab — his body moved before his mind could catch up, every muscle firing on raw instinct alone.
He only came to a stop once his body crumpled like paper against the furthest wall with a sickening KRAKkkkkkkk!
The shock of impact exploded through him, sending a jolt of pain radiating from his ribs all the way to his skull.
As he slid down to the floor, the ground shuddered beneath him.
" ₲Ɽᵁᵁᵁᵁ₩₩₩ⱠⱠ ˥͕͔ͥ́˥˥̫ͬ !❞
Peter tried to open his eyes.
He couldn’t.
“I could use a little help over here!”
“We all could use a little help!” Rhodey’s voice shouted back to Quill, just as hot as the blistering air that choked in Peter’s lungs. “The whole damn place is fire!”
“Strange—!”
“Get the kid, Stark!”
Even while consciousness started to flee him as quickly as the blood drained out of his body, Peter could still hear the voices, hollering from one end of the room to the other; shouting alongside the chaos.
He could practically see each and every one of them beneath his eyelids, too heavy to open no matter his desperation.
“Wanda—!”
“It burns through my magic—!”
“—you have chaos magic, Maximoff!”
It kinda sucked.
He wasn’t gunna be able to thank them all coming to rescue him.
“Cap, I’m shooting a demon Hulk with arrows — get us the hell out of here!”
“Tony! We need to—!”
“I’m out of bullets, Rogers!”
Peter felt a ripple of disequilibrium surge through him in what he sure was going to be his last thought —
— he hoped Mr. Stark wasn’t too mad at him for ruining his wedding.
“Stand back!”
It wasn’t Gamora’s shout that finally pulled Peter’s eyes wide open; it was the stinging vibrations that shot down the length of his neck, his spider-sense screaming with raw and artificial adrenaline suddenly coursing through his blood depleted veins.
He rolled out of the way just in time to avoid her path, watching with faded and blurry eyes as she launched herself into the air, twisting her body mid-leap until the blade of her sword collided right with the creature five times her size.
The impact was a flash of movement he barely processed.
One moment she launched herself in front of him; a blur leaping into the air, holding a sword gleaming against the intensity of flames, and then next—
“—Arg-GUUhHHhuuuhhh—!”
“Gamora—!”
She crashed into Peter, hard enough to force him conscious.
Next to them, both ends of a broken sword landed on the ground, bouncing until they finally came to a stop not far away.
A gasp broke from his chest as Peter pushed both hands palm-down on the floor, fighting to get himself upward — looking to the broken sword next to him, right next to where Gamora laid crumbled on the ground. Unmoving.
" ₲̔̈́̕Ɽ̽͠͝Ⱨ́͝͝Ⱨ̿̈́Ⱨ̈́͒͠Ⱨ͋͛͝ Ⱳ̺̥̘͔͔ͫͣ͛̄̆˥̸͍͊ ˥̶̠͝˥̷̡̈́˥̷̟͗˥̸̹̊˥̵̰̃˥̴͕̓˥̵͔̅˥̷̠͠˥̷͙͌˥̝̝̳͍̠ͮ͋͊͆̂˥̪̗̬!❞
Smoke suffocated his lungs as he fought to breathe. His elbows buckled, and in a desperate scramble, he grabbed hold of a nearby piece of equipment to steady himself.
Another hasty glance to Gamora — nothing.
" ₲̔̈́̕Ɽ̽͠͝Ⱨ́͝͝ ₦̓͝₦̒̀̓₦̀̚͝Ɽ̓̿₲͊̀͋₲̒̒̈́₲̒̓̓Ⱨ͒̈́͝!̽̓́!❞
Peter snapped his head around, his heart pounding in his throat as the creature’s heavy steps slammed into the floor, each sending violent tremors through him, the building groaning beneath its weight — the crackling magic from all around not doing enough to tame the flames that threatened to burn away everything it touched.
Instinct didn’t take over a second time around. Peter tottered on his knees, sweat dripping down his forehead, his arms clinging to a bulky piece of machinery and shaking with each rumble quickly approaching.
He hadn’t expected the beast to produce enough fire that it could ignite every inch of his seething, toxic-green body — burning with fury, boiling from the inside out.
He also hadn’t been expecting the flying hammer that whizzed right past his ear, striking straight into the creatures chest with a echoing TWHUD! that nearly burst his eardrums open.
“HaHA!” Thor’s gleeful shout was nearly as loud as Mjölnir’s impact against the molten figure up ahead. “Yes!”
“Bullseye!” Quill circled the beast from high above, his lasers shooting down in rapid succession, his jetboots flying through the flames that ate through shimmering magic from all around.
“Whose eye!?” Rocket’s scream just barely reached over those laser blasts.
Peter blinked, wearily, fighting to see through the sweltering heat and clouds of smoke.
“There are too many eyes in the perimeter to be attacked upon!” Drax shouted from somewhere beyond a wall of fire, the air warping with blistering heat — every breath scorched Peter’s throat, every gasp dragging dry, stinging ash and soot deeper into his lungs.
ᶠᶠᶠᶠᵃᵃᵃᵃᵃaaaAAAA—
—BOOOOOOM!
The thought was quickly stripped from him as flames violently exploded outward, the ground quaking beneath him — equipment rattling and toppling over, the air filling with a choking mix of scorched drywall and pulverized concrete.
Peter hit the ground, hard, sliding across shattered tile — the machinery he clung to tipped over with him, tumbling across the lab — beating him with bruises as they clunkyly rolled to a stop.
Right at the edge of the giant crater.
“Hu—uhhgh!HHH” Peter scrambled backward as fast as his feet could dig into the ground, hastily crawling away from the gaping hole that had swallowed the floor — a massive ruin to the lab’s foundation, the entire building trembling as the ground underneath groaned and shifted.
“Mother of SCUT!” Rocket’s shout came right along with the chunks of debris that tumbled down into the crater Peter fought to crawl away from.
Sparks burst from exposed wiring, magic coating the walls began to melt apart with the flames it tried to trap beneath. Pockets of fire grew larger, all while devastation carved straight down through steel, concrete, right through rebar —
— the beast threw Thor down to the ground, straight down through the floor, deep into earth itself.
“Guhuh!” Crawling away frantically, Peter nearly stumbled in a panic as he felt heat surge closer — his spider-sense screaming as the monster lunged straight towards him.
"₲̾̕ ₲̔̈́̕Ɽ̽͠͝ ₦̓͝₦̒̀̓₦̀̚͝Ɽ̓̿₲͊̀͋₲̒̓̓Ⱨ͒̈́͝Ɽ̸̢͚̪̓͘͝!̽̓́!❞
The roar shifted from rage to raw pain.
With eyes still fearfully wide, Peter froze — watching the beast twist around, fire pouring off it massive shoulders in gouts; licking up his arms with waves of blistering flames.
Smoke poured from the weapon jutting in his back, buried deep between his shoulder blades.
Captain America’s shield sunk in past the thorny scales that cracked and burned.
The first thing Peter’s wide-eyes noticed was the wound carved down the beast’s back — thick, gray tendrils curled around the shield embedded deep inside of him, smoke oozing out where there should’ve been blood.
The second thing he noticed was Captain America running straight towards them, leaping right for the monster before Peter could even register what was happening.
“Ah-acCKK!” Peter rolled and crawled away as another blast lit up the room, the magic that crackled from all around weakening against the heat of fire, oozing down the walls, sparking each second of its way.
“I cannot contain it for much longer!” Wanda’s cry pierced through the madness, the magical shields that kept the fire at bay beginning to falter — melting down the walls like wax, pockets of flames ripping through her crimson walls until it was overtaken by a surge of searing gold.
Where her magic faltered, Strange’s lit up; sorcery sweeping through the room in a desperate attempt to hold it back — only to be swallowed up, inch by inch.
Peter scrambled backward, the heat pressing in from all sides — his head swimming, his limbs trembling — the lab was consumed by a wall of fire that surged forward, cutting off his view and everything in its path.
“This would be a great time for Mantis to put someone to sleep!” Rocket’s crass shout was accompanied by a large barrage of bullets, each one spitting out and ricocheting right off its intended target.
“I do not believe this beast is ready for slumber!” Drax shouted somewhere across the room, and yet like Thor, was somehow loud enough to reach over the hellfire of pandemonium.
Peter shot his head around, desperate to see any of the voices he heard; twisting just in time to see Tony — Iron Man — cut through a cloud of smoke with his repulsors lifting him high into the air.
“Then let’s make him ready!”
Straight from the arc reactor against his chest came a unibeam powerful enough to light up the room, aiming right for the ceiling beam most damaged by the fire — the bar of metal let out a high, grating wail as it slowly came apart, breaking in two; but failing to collapse.
Impact from a fist engulfed in flames brought that unibeam to a sudden stop.
“Gu-huuHH!”
Smacked aside, Tony was sent spiraling, soaring too far away for Peter’s hazy eyesight to keep track of.
Mantis let out a shriek that rose above the fire. “I cannot get close to him, he’s too hot —!”
“—gross!” Quill shouted back.
“No! He radiates a heat that burns!”
Peter’s elbows shook as he leaned his weight back on the palms of his hands, the broken floor cutting gashes into his fingertips, the heat leaving burn marks against his flesh.
Through the blaze ahead, he could barely make out the beast storming forward. Its hulking form sliced through the fire, absorbing every flame that clung to its grotesque body.
Peter shakily jerked his head up to the ceiling, the panic in his eyes as intense as the reflection of fire that coated his wide pupils.
"₲̾̕Ɽ̓̓̓Ø̀͒̔Ʉ̒̔̐Ʉ̓́͌Ʉ͌͘͠₩͊͠͝Ⱡ͋͊̓Ⱡ͋̒̔Ⱡ́̚͠Ⱡ́͌͠Ⱡ̈́̒͝Ⱡ̿̾̔Ⱡ͒̾̓˥͊̀˥̈́͛̕!❞
A strand of webbing shot out from an arm that trembled fiercely.
Peter’s jaw clenched tightly, his other arm slinging forward as he desperately grabbed onto the line with both hands — struggling to pull the beam down, his muscles screaming, nerves lit on fire as intense as the flames surrounding him.
‘C’mon, Parker…’ His breath came in short, ragged bursts. Sweat clouded his eyes, stinging, burning — the air burned, a cry of pain shot out from his throat as the muscles in his shoulders screamed. ‘C’mon, Peter!’
The beam inched closer to collapse at the same speed the creature thundered forward.
‘C’MON, Spider-Man!’ Peter clenched both his eyes tightly as he pulled harder on the strand of webbing, choking on a cry kept beneath a locked jaw.
The gray edges on his vision were quickly growing black, fading in and out, the feel of liquid oozing down his arm barely a sensation he could feel. The blood trickled down from his inner elbow and into the exposed skin of his collarbone, causing a shiver to shoot up his spine.
The beam inched forward, slowly — too slowly.
He wasn’t going to make it.
Peter grunted as he kept pulling at the webbing, desperate — frantically desperate.
The ground shook harder. Just when he was sure he was done for—
“Hang ON!”
Gamora’s shout nearly reached into a scream as she hastily ran forward, tumbling down to her knees next to him as both her hands reached to grab the line of webbing — clinging on just in time, narrowly missing the reach in her drop to the floor.
A shout later, and she pulled the beam down along with him — the force of webbing snapping in two, sending them both rolling backward.
" ₲̔̈́̕Ɽ̽͠͝Ⱨ́͝͝ ₦̒̀̓₦̀̚͝Ɽ̈́͘Ɽ̓̿₲͊̀͋₲̒̒̈́₲̒̓̓Ⱨ͒̈́͝ Ⱨ͒̈́͝ Ⱨ͒̈́͝ !̽̓́!❞
The impact from above sent a rumble through the floors that shook Peter sideways.
“Argh!” He grunted as he fell onto his hip, his eyes clenched tightly before he quickly shot them wide open — not wasting another second, not allowing himself to over-think his movements as he shot out web after web, straight ahead of him.
Half the shots struck its target.
The creature roared as webbing gunked into the crevices of flames that made up its eyes, melting into its skull as claws fought to rip away the sticky substance.
“Strange! Now!”
“Mantis, go! Go!”
The voices shouted from all around him — Tony’s nearby while Quill’s came from far away.
A rush of wind seemed to roar against his face, ripping through his skull, the torrential force of magic strong enough to still the tremors that wrecked his body in half.
Peter eyes couldn’t stay focused enough to see the procession of events occur right in front of him.
A portal opened from the ceiling — he blinked, and suddenly the creature roared as the girl dropped down from above, her hands clinging to the thorns on its head—
“—it is a struggle!” Mantis’s cry pierced through the blaze of crackling embers that burned apart the shield of magic; Wanda’s struggle to keep the fire tamed no different than her struggle to keep the beast subdued. “He is strong!”
The next gale of wind was a hurricane not even Peter could withstand — the gust of air knocked him back, tumbling away on his side, rolling through patches of fire that the thunderous wind was quick to put out.
The impact of his body against the furthest wall came at the same time Mjölnir soared from the depths of the ground beneath them all, flying high from within the crater, striking hard against the creatures jaw right as Peter’s head bounced off the crumbling drywall behind him.
A roar harsh enough to rattle his bones nearly knocked him out for good.
The next blast of magic certainly did just that.
For just a split second, the room went dark.
The next thing Peter knew, an explosion punched straight through him.
One sharp blast — a pressure wave against his chest — and everything erupted.
“Where is he!?”
“Thor!”
“What—!?”
Peter cracked his eyes open, barely getting them past slits — the heat too intense, his strength burning away no different than the surrounding walls around him.
Flames licked up from the ground, pouring over the ceiling, a black smoke stripping them of air.
“The beast has fled!”
“Holy—!”
“Did he get away!?” Quill barely got his voice over the widespread inferno. “Guys, did we just lose!?”
The voices kept on, overlapping one another — shouting in a panic, screaming with urgency.
“Everyone! Evacuate!” Steve’s shout wasn’t just a command, it was an order — spoken straight from his chest, hollered out from throat that tore open his vocal cords trying to yell louder than the flames around them. “Go! Go! GO—!”
Swirls of blistering orange glowed deeper against the reflection of fire as Peter watched portal after portal open across the lab — half-lidded and half-conscious, and positive now that he was officially living out a nightmare of a purgatory.
All the while, he remained unmoving.
The floors shook underneath him, jostling his body side to side; an empty glaze sat over-top his eyes, long after a figure flew down and landed with a THUD! next to his swaying, disoriented figure.
“Oh…that looks painful.” Thor grimaced as he leaned in front of Peter, close enough that Peter couldn’t focus on his face even had he wanted to.
Logically, he knew what he was seeing in front of him. A wall of fire erupted just beyond where Thor stood, portals of magic emerged one after another as the ceiling from above began to collapse in chunks and pieces — and yet, Peter was barely orientated enough to recognize any of it as it unfolded.
Through the hammering of his heart and the weakening rhythm of his pulse, through the blaze that roared around him and the heat that scorched his lungs with every shallow, shaky breath—
“Peter!”
Tony’s shout cut through it all, his repulsors flaring as he landed hard and caught Peter by the shoulders — gripping tight — just as the last threads holding him up gave way.
Peter slumped forward, blinking, his eyes growing too heavy to stay open.
“Oh, Jesus,” Tony’s voice cut through the roar of fire, sharp and desperate and loud. Peter had a feeling the shout was going straight into his ear. “Kid! Kid, look at me!”
Something sleek and metal grabbed at his jaw. It held on tight.
Peter could feel the pressure, but nothing more than that.
“Strange!” A desperate shout broke into a plea. “STRANGE! NOW!”
The flames kept erupting against magical shields like detonating bombs, burning through all that fought to keep it away — heat and smoke surging in, devouring the lab with terrifying speed.
“Rocket!” Gamora’s scream cut through the chaos, sharper and higher than anything else in the lab. “Let’s go! Come on!”
Ahead of Peter, the portals burst open one after another, the swirl of orange light colliding with flames already eating through the air.
Gamora yanked Rocket by the paw, dragging him toward her, panicked urgency in every step — forcing him to move even as he lingered, still staring straight ahead — looking at Peter even as Peter’s gaze looked far beyond him.
“That bastard...” Rocket’s voice was quiet against the fire, submerged in horror as he let Gamora drag him right through the portal.
A hand slapped Peter’s face.
Again.
And again.
“Hey! HEY!” The voice tore past his eardrums, rattling straight into his skull. Peter heard it, but at the same time, he didn’t. “Stay with me, Peter! Stay with me — STRANGE!”
Gold and orange light rippled across his eyelids, flaring like embers caught in the breath of a fire, heat brushing against his skin as the crackle of flames sparked in his ears.
The last words he heard chased right alongside his drifting consciousness.
“Peter! Peter! Kid, don’t you dare—!” Tony’s voice cut through it all, metallic and strained, fighting to be heard over the rising darkness. “PETER!”
With no air left in his lungs, no strength to breathe any in, and with his eyes spasming as they rolled to the back of his head —
“That...was…” Peter deflated his lungs in one single exhale, “…crazy.”