And the one time Peter was there
Peter drops from his web mid swing, flips in the air and catches the tiny ball of destruction thrown towards the cars buzzing underneath him. “Hey, Gobby, you lost this!” He yells as he throws the pumpkin bomb back towards the laughing maniac. (Peter should definitely have joined the football or basketball team in high school, he’d been way cooler than the nerdy, scrawny Puny Parker.)
The purple and green lunatic keeps laughing hysterically as he rounds the corner and the bomb goes off, leaving a void of black smoke and red sparkles, effectively blinding Peter’s sight for a second too long as he almost meets the newly cleaned window of Stark Industries nose first.
He waves to Tony Stark as he quickly passes by where he’s standing in the colossal building, watching the fight with his arms crossed, looking majorly unimpressed. Asshole. He follows the sound of his number 1 enemy and picks up another bomb thrown in his direction. “Fire in the hole!” he yells as he launches it back up in the air.
Peter uses the nearest rooftop as a springboard, directing his body towards his target, and landing gracefully on the tips of his toes behind the Green Goblin. He points him on the shoulder and gives the man a solid knock in the chin when he turns his head.
He’s careful not to use too much force, though. They’re flying dangerously wobbly above the city, and neither of them have indestructible bones. The Goblin loses his footing for a second and the board turns upside down. It’s a lot like surfing in a hurricane, Peter thinks, and he’s one hundred percent sure he never wants to do it again.
“Hey, Gobby, you thought about going into the firework business?” Peter asks casually as he clings to the underside of his hoverboard, watching the last bomb going off with green and purple sparkles. He opens the panel with all the wires and starts ripping them out, thanking his creator for his sticky fingers while thinking about how to not join in on the eventual crash as they start the fast trip towards the ground.
“Hey, kid. Need a ride?” Peter groans and curses the universe. You couldn’t have sent me anyone else to my rescue? Literary anyone else would do. Even cocky asshole Johnny Storm.
The concrete is coming a little too close for comfort though, so Peter shoots a string of web, attaching himself to the Iron Man suit and lets go, just to thwip a new string at Norman, letting him dangle securely as Iron Man shoots into the air, putting more space between them and the unforgiving city floor.
Norman is still laughing like it’s the only thing he knows how to do, and it’s only because Peter knows him, like, really knows the man, that he’s not fooled to think there’s something seriously wrong with him. (There’s definitely something seriously wrong with him, considering he flies around bombing the city he’s trying to control as a major, but he is in fact a very intelligent man, albeit an evil one.)
“Where should we put the passenger? The mental hospital?” Peter has already tried that, it lasted a week. There’s got to be somewhere else to stuff the guy, where he’s safely tucked away for at least a month. (Peter doesn’t have time to play fetch right now, he has a group project in Biochem he should be doing.)
“Don’t you guys have your own prison for guys like him?” God, he sounds like he hasn’t been doing this for half a decade already. But somehow, it feels like just leaving him with the police is the same thing as telling a toddler they can’t have more candy and placing a bag full of it right in front of them.
Peter adjusts his hold on the squirming villain, and wonders what he’ll tell Harry. It’s not like they haven’t had this talk before, exactly, but it doesn’t get any easier. (Hey, Har, guess what I did today? I had a fist fight with your dad. Again. No worries though, he’ll be back to mentally assault you in no time!)
He’s brought back from his wandering mind by the snap and quick vibrations of the web he wrapped Norman in, and looks down to see that the idiot has managed to cut it somehow and is freefalling towards the city. “Shit!”
He drops the string connected to the golden suit above him and dives for his best friend’s dad, not really sure what he’ll do when he catches him, but it’s not like he can just let him become a disgusting splat on the sidewalk. Spider-Man doesn’t traumatize the citizens, and it’s not like Norman would be there to take the blame if he let him actually meet his doom.
He reaches out with one arm, shooting out a perfectly aimed web, and yanking it hard , making them collide mid air and wrapping the webbing around them both, trapping their bodies together with arms tucked between them. Great job, Parker, now we’ll both be colorful pancakes on the sidewalk.
The annoying whirring sound of the red and gold hero is blocking all other sounds, and Peter is going to be mad at him for interfering when he’s done falling. He totally had this all on his own. He doesn’t need the narcissistic asshole to step in and save the day from his supervillain. Get your own maniac to chase around the city.
“Stop moving, and I’ll get us out of here.” Peter snaps at the green idiot squirming in the tight hold of his webs. “Believe me, I don’t want to be stuck like this anymore than you do.” Peter just hopes there’s no phones documenting this, Harry’s going to laugh at him until the day he dies. He squints the white lenses of his mask at the Goblins sickly green face, who’s just a little too close for comfort.
“You okay there, Spidey?” If it wasn’t for the mechanic tilt to Mr. Stark’s voice, Peter would have sworn he heard an amused hint to his tone. Not fair, dude. You try being glued to the one person in the whole world you’d rather live without.
“M’fine. Just gotta get the spray bottle from…” He groans and reaches behind himself to the pouch in his suit, he’s almost got it, just a little… pop! “fuck! That hurts.” At least he can reach the damn bottle now that his arm isn’t locked in place by his stupid human anatomy. Gobby flinches and looks like he sympathizes with his nemesis for once, and it’s not reassuring at all. Peter just wants to get out of here and back to his study group.
The webbing dissolves and Peter is ready to wrap another one around Norman the second he’s free, just to make sure he’s not going to pull one of those circus stunts and disappear in a wall of green smoke. (He’s done it before, it’s not a good self esteem booster.)
“I have a reinforced cell in the basement of the Tower. We can put him in there and let S.H.I.E.L.D take care of him.” Okay, so what kind of business does Tony Stark do in that building of his, really? Who has a prison cell in their basement? Except for evil douchebags like Normie here?
“Sure, you do that. I need to get going, I have somewhere to be.” Peter hands over the leash to his prisoner and raises his arm to swing away, only to wince in pain. Right, I might need to fix that shoulder first.
“You wanna come back with me, I can have someone look you over, set your shoulder back in place?” Yeah— no. No way is Peter willingly heading to a place with reinforced prison cells in the basement. According to the law he belongs in one of those himself. Not happening.
“I’m good. You take the bad guy to your castle and let the important men in black suits figure out what to do with him.” He grabs his shoulder and yanks it back in place, barely suppressing the cry threatening to escape as he hears the bone pop back into place. Easy peasy. (There’s not tears in his eyes or anything. He’s a badass hero. This is nothing.)
“You sure, kid?” Peter scoffs. Did Tony Stark just sound concerned? That has got to be the first. He tests the mobility of his arm by swinging it around a little and rolling his shoulder. Definitely better than it was. He turns towards Norman, who’s looking like a sulking child where he sits on the sidewalk with his arms crossed.
“You—” Peter points at him, and the yellow eyes snap up to meet his own white lenses. “ — behave.” He grins mischievously, teeth on display and everything, and Peter shudders.
“Always, Peter. You know me.” Peter sighs and drags his hand across his mask. Shaking his head he turns away from them both, shooting a web at the building across the street and pointedly does not let his mind torture him with the fact that Tony Stark now knows that the Green Goblin knows who he is. He has a group project he needs to work on, after all.