Chapter 2
Another day. Charlie had made fun of him that morning for having to carry him back to his room. School had been bland as always. He’d gone to work, just like always. He had gotten to watch one of the seamsters make clothes, which had made his shift better. Then he’d gone to gymnastics practice. He enjoyed gymnastics best out of everything that came before it. Though it was hard to ignore his spider sense telling him when he was going to mess up, it was still fun. He could do everything perfectly if he used his powers, but that made him feel like a cheater. He wanted to do it perfectly without help. So when he made a mistake, he let himself fall. It gave him something to work for. Practice gave him the same feeling as swinging did.
Pure euphoria. He reached his arm out, slowing his body with it as he gracefully crashed into the wall. He released his web, and began crawling up the side with only one hand.
Tommy pulled himself onto the roof, sitting on the edge and swinging his legs back and forth. He pulled his mask up so his mouth was uncovered, and took a bite of the churro he had in one hand. A reward from an old lady he’d helped across a street. He loved his job. While he loved kicking ass, he also loved doing the small things, like helping old ladies across streets or giving strangers directions or pointing out a building to an unfamiliar person. People were more likely to ask him when he was in his suit to do menial things that he would’ve done otherwise because they trusted Spider-Man. And he loved that.
This building had a nice view. He hadn’t ever stopped here specifically before, but he decided he would more often. It overlooked one of the bigger streets that ran by some water. Street lights sparkled in the reflection. The churro was delicious.
He had taken the last bite when he picked up what sounded like footfalls. He crunched the churro wrapper in his hand, pulling down his mask. He stood, turning. And there, behind him, he saw Captain America. He wasn’t in his usual outfit, so Tommy could assume that he wasn’t there for any serious hero business; however, his shield was strapped to his back, so it must’ve been some sort of hero business. He stood like he always did, back straightened proudly, his expression pulled into a careful sort of wariness that kept his eyebrows furrowed.
His inner fanboy was in awe. The part of him that remembered he was Spider-Man at the moment was panicking.
“Captain.” He greeted carefully.
What could he be here for?
He didn’t have anything that Captain America would want. Or the Avengers, he didn’t think. Maybe Iron Man wanted him again? But if he did, why not come talk to him himself? Maybe the Captain wanted revenge for the airport. But then, he was never one for that kind of thing, and even at the airport, he didn’t seem too pissed. Plus he was technically working under the government now.
What if he was here because of the Accords?
They said that every super hero needed to give their identity to the public, and he did not have his identity out there. No one knew but him. Obviously that would be a problem for the government, their Accords only put in place recently, they didn’t want to seem like hypocrites so early on. And who would they send to enforce their rules? Their own newly-established superheroes. And their first pick was the Captain, apparently, a very reluctant supporter.
“Spider-Man.” The other nodded in acknowledgement. “Nice suit.”
“Thanks.” Tommy said, shifting barely so he could jump if he needed to.
Silence.
The Captain cleared his throat. “Would you mind having a chat?”
“Y’know, I actually think I have stuff to do. I gotta go.” Tommy said, crouching down.
“Wait.” Captain America held out his hand.
“I left the stove on at home, you know how it its.” Tommy extended his hand, ready to shoot.
The Captain moved towards him hastily. Tommy shot at his feet, sticking him to the ground.
“Yeah, no.” He said, and jumped off the building, swinging away.
Phil unhooked his shield, bringing the edge down on the webs and slicing through them cleanly. He moved to the edge of the roof, peering around. Spider-Man was already gone. “Fuck.” He murmured.
“Okay, yeah, look, it was a tiny explosion.” Tommy said into the phone held to his ear, pushing the door open with his other hand. Charlie responded. “Yeah, well, that wasn’t my fault. The other guy measured wrong.” Pause. “They’re not gonna punish me. I helped clean up.” Pause. “Okay, okay. Look, I gotta go, my shift’s gonna start.”
“What did you blow up this time?” One of the seamstresses asked as she passed by him, raising an eyebrow.
“Just a glass vial.” Tommy defended. “It was tiny. And not my fault.”
“Mhm.” She smirked.
“It wasn’t on purpose this time!” He yelled at her as she disappeared farther down the shop. He exhaled, grumbling as he went to change.
Upon exiting in his full uniform, he was flagged down by a colleague. “Can you measure him?” They asked, throwing a thumb at a man standing next to the counter behind them.
Tommy nodded at them. “Follow me.” He said, turning.
Tall(er than him, which he was upset about), brown hair, light skin, round-framed glasses. Dressed like an emo poet. Tommy grabbed a tailor’s tape and a clipboard with blank measurements on it. “Name?” He asked.
“Wilbur Soot.”
That was a weird last name. He wrote it down anyway. “What fit are you getting, Wilbur?”
“Basic dress suit.”
Tommy’s eyebrow went up, but he wrote the order down. Best not to comment.
“What was that look for?” Wilbur asked, an amused smile growing on his lips.
“Nothing.”
“Come on, you don’t react like that to nothing. Tell me.”
Well, if he insisted. At least he wouldn’t get in trouble for commenting now. “You really don’t look like a formal suit kind of guy.” Tommy told him.
The other laughed. “Yeah, that’s fair. What kind of guy do I look like?”
Tommy glanced him up and down exaggeratedly, unrolling his tape measure. “You look like you either have paint on all of the jeans you own, you draw in charcoal, or you write poetry.”
The last one caught Wilbur off-guard. “That’s- actually pretty close. Maybe I do need to change my wardrobe.”
“You write poetry?” Tommy raised an eyebrow, starting the measurements.
“Uh… Kind of. I write songs.”
Tommy snorted. “Yeah, maybe you do need to change your wardrobe. You are a stereotypical song writer.”
“Hey!” Wilbur protested.
Tommy shrugged, grinning. “Try not putting your whole personality on display through what you wear.”
Wilbur pouted at him. “I like my clothes.”
“Yeah, that’s probably the problem.” Tommy snickered. He had so, so many more comments he wanted to say, with so, so many more swears, but he wasn’t quite looking to get fired right here on this day.
“I guess the suit will help with that.” Wilbur sighed sadly.
Tommy glanced at him, scratching down some measurements. “You’re not a suit guy.”
“Nope.”
“Then why are you buying a suit?”
Wilbur wrinkled his nose. “My new boss wants me to have something nice to wear to a formal event that’s coming up. He insisted on a tailored suit. I’m not paying for it, so I’m here.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “That’s fair. I wouldn’t turn down a free suit.”
“Yeah. I was really tempted to just wear this suit that I have from a while ago, but it’s very dusty.”
“Yeah, well you’re going to look way sharper in one of our suits.”
Wilbur glanced at him. “Is that employee talk?”
“No, not entirely. The seamsters and seamstresses here are really talented. You’re going to look great.”
The other smiled. “I’ll take your word for it. You do that?”
“Sew? Not here, no. I’m not quite that advanced yet.” He could totally make a suit. Maybe not as effortlessly or as quickly, but he could make it look pretty damn close.
“That’s fair.” Wilbur nodded, and let him finish in quiet.
Once all the measurements were written down, he handed them off to one of the others. “Come with me. We just need some of your information so we can contact you when you can pick up your order.”
Tommy wound the tape back up. Wilbur turned back around and waved to him, his eyes sparkling. Tommy jolted a little, surprised. He waved back, a little awkwardly. One of his colleagues asked him to do something, and when he was done, Wilbur had left. Tommy found himself thinking about the interaction more than he liked.
He breathed in harshly, grinning. His coach called to him, “That was perfect, good job!”
“Thanks.” He said, dropping his ending pose.
She turned away from him, calling to the whole group. “Alright, everyone! Practice is over! Good work today!”
Several whoops came from the group, all moving to collect their things before they left. “Tommy, I want you to come in here tomorrow ready to do that exactly like that again. Vanessa, can you stay a little bit after practice tomorrow?”
“Sure can, coach.” Vanessa called back.
Tommy went to grab his bag from the side of the gym. The person beside him turned to look at him, smiling as he gathered his own things. “That was a pretty good practice run. You did a good job.”
“Thanks.” Tommy grinned at him. “I saw you on the beam. That was a good save, it looked nice still.”
The other winced, smiling. “Yeah. I need to work on that set a bit more.”
“You’ll get it, man.” Tommy told him. “Tomorrow, I bet.”
“I hope so.” He smiled wryly, waving as he walked away.
Tommy pulled his phone out of his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He had a notification from Charlie. The lab called me in early. I heated up food.
He grinned to himself. He could go out early. He loved swinging through the city when it was still light out.
Phil made a beeline for the helicopter. A metallic clunk made him slow; Electricity crackled through the metal, likely frying the rotor. He sighed to himself, preparing himself as the sound of active repulsors hit his ears.
“Wow, look, what a coincidence. The people you run into at the airport.” Sam’s suit clanked as he hit the ground in front of the helicopter. Ponk’s suit made a similar sound as he landed next to him.
“Small world.” Ponk commented.
Phil turned his hard gaze to Sam. “Sam, please.” He tried. “Listen. That doctor, the psychiatrist, he’s behind all this shit.”
A black shape moved through his vision. He turned to look at the prince of Wakanda, straightening himself.
“Captain.” He greeted coldly.
“Your highness.” Phil nodded.
“Look.” Sam started, drawing Phil’s attention back to him. He walked behind Ponk, opening his helmet. “Ross gave me thirty-six hours to bring you in. That was twenty-four hours ago. I’m running out of time to try and fix this mess you’ve made.”
“You have the wrong man.” Phil said. “Techno didn’t do shit. If you bring him in, that doctor is going to find a way to get to him. I can’t let that happen.”
“Everyone thinks your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday. My hands are tied, Phil. The best-case situation here is that we bring all of you in and we hold your friend until someone can prove it wasn’t him. If you keep running, we’re both going to be in trouble.”
“The doctor already got to him through the government. I don’t trust it to not happen again.” Phil said.
“Phil.” Niki’s voice came from behind him. He turned, his grip on his shield’s handles tightening. “You know what’s going to happen. Do you really want to punch your way out of this one?” She asked him, speaking slowly.
Phil clenched his teeth, not responding. His expression was pure stubbornness, and he turned back to Sam, shifting his stance.
Sam sighed. “Yeah, I thought so. I don’t have time for this. Underoos!”
Phil’s shield was ripped from his grasp. He looked down, and thin, white strings bound his wrists. What the fuck?
A light thump caught his attention. A person in a red and blue suit crouched on the back of a car, holding his shield. The suit was embellished with a spider in the middle of his chest, with black spiderweb patterns spread across the cloth. The person’s face was covered with a mask, the eyepieces slanted. Phil narrowed his eyes, looking over the other.
“Good job, kid.” Sam nodded at him.
“God, this suit is amazing. Thanks. I mean, I could’ve stuck the landing a little better, but that was on me. This is so cool. Hey, Cap. I’m Spider-Man. Big fan. Y’know.”
“Kid.” Sam deadpanned.
“Oh, yeah, sorry Mr. Stark.” The kid waved a hand, crouching back down. He looked over the shield in his hands. The eyepieces shifted, becoming wider, giving the expression of awe.
“You’ve been busy.” Phil commented, turning his attention back to Sam.
“And you’ve been a dumbass.” Sam snapped. “You dragged Q back, into this. You ‘rescued’ the twins from a place they don’t even want to leave. A safe place.
“I’m trying to-” Sam cut himself off, gritting his teeth. He sighed in exasperation and annoyance. “I’m trying to keep us together. This is going to tear us apart. We’re picking sides here, do you see it? I’m trying to get the best possible outcome for everyone, and you’re making it really goddamn difficult.”
“You ruined that chance when you signed the Accords.” Phil told him coldly.
Sam stared at him. “Did you ever think to talk to me first? I trust your judgement. I would have tried to help you figure it out. That’s what teams do.”
Phil pressed his lips together. “The Accords have your hands tied. You couldn’t have helped, even if you wanted to.”
“Well, there’s a hell of a smaller chance now.” Sam snapped. “You’re still not listening to me. Look, we don’t have time for this. Give us Barnes now, you can come with us, we have twelve hours still to figure something out. Please, Phil. You’re not going to win this. It’s going to be us, or it’s going to be a bunch of J-SOC guys who don’t care about what happens to you. Or Barnes.” Phil looked away, clenching his jaw. “Come on.”
The Sam he was currently on good terms with spoke through his earpiece. “We found it. Their Quinjet’s in Hangar Five, North Runway.”
Phil lifted his chin, raising his arms above his head. Quackity’s arrow shot through the material, slicing it. Sam turned, his helmet forming again. “Alright, Lang.” He said, nodding once.
Spider-Man straightened. “Something’s off-”
Wilbur suddenly appeared, growing into sight. Spider-Man was flung back onto the roof of the car, the shield ripped from his hands.
“What the hell?” Ponk stepped back, assessing the newcomer who was now stood at Phil’s side.
“Believe this is yours, Captain.” Wilbur said, offering his shield to him. Phil took it, sliding his arm back into the straps.
“Oh, great.” Sam rolled his eyes, activating a different view. Three shapes moved in his vision. “Alright, I see three up on the parking deck. Two of them are the twins. I’m going to go grab them.” Both Sam and Ponk lifted on the ground, and Sam shot away. “Ponk, you want to take Captain Dumbass?”
Ponk nodded, swiveling his head. “I see two in the terminal. I think it’s Wilson and Barnes.”
“Barnes is mine!” T’Challa hissed, immediately bolting towards the two. Phil threw his shield, catching Ponk’s chest and making him stumble mid-air.
“Hey, Mr. Stark, what do you want me to do?” Spider-Man asked through his earpiece.
“Just like we planned. Keep your distance, web them up.” Sam told him.
“Will do.” Spider-Man said, pulling himself into the air.
Phil threw his shield again, knocking T’Challa over. He rolled, and Phil jumped on him. The prince broke his grip, throwing himself off of him. Phil ended up between him and the building.
“Move, Captain.” He said, standing. “I won’t ask a second time.”
“Look, I don’t want to hurt you. It’s really not my thing.” Wilbur said, standing a few feet from the Black Widow.
“I wouldn’t stress about it.” She told him, throwing a knee into his groin. Wilbur buckled and hit his button, throwing her to the ground from her wrist. She activated the weapon things on her wrist, the electricity throwing him into a truck and leaving a small dent.
Spider-Man swung himself onto the window of the terminal, following the two inside for a few moments.
“What is that?” Techno asked, staring at the moving figure as he ran beside Wilson.
“Everyone’s got a gimmick, now.” Wilson scoffed, studying the guy.
Spider-Man jumped off the window as he slung a web, pulling himself through the glass feet-first and kicking Wilson across the floor. Techno paused, taking a swing at the newcomer. Spider-Man caught his fist, and Techno stared at him. No one had done that before.
“You have a metal arm? That’s so fucking cool, dude!” Spider-Man exclaimed. Wilson stood, running at him with his wings extending. Wilson grabbed him and pulled him into the air. Spider-Man swung at him, pushing off and pulling himself into the support beams on the roof.
T’Challa extended his claws, swiping at Phil. Phil blocked with his shield, and scratch marks ran down the surface. T’Challa jumped, and kicked Phil’s chest, sending him flying backward. Ponk withdrew a sort of electric baton, swinging it down on him. Phil blocked it with his shield, the resulting clash ringing in their ears.
Sam flew towards Quackity and the twins, flying in front of them to block their way. He held his blaster out, a warning and a threat. “Tubbo, I think you hurt Vision’s feelings.” He said dryly.
“You locked us in our room!” Tubbo yelled at him.
“I didn’t lock you anywhere. You could have left, with supervision. I wanted you to be safe.” He told him, and turned his head slightly. “Hey, Q.”
“Hey, man.” Quackity said, drawing an arrow.
“Thought you were on vacation. Golf too calm for you, or what?”
Quackity shrugged. “I played eighteen. I shot eighteen. I just can’t seem to miss.” He smirked, loosing the arrow. Sam dodged, shooting the arrow in half before it could hit anything.
“You sure?” He asked.
“I wasn’t trying to hit you. That was a distraction.” Quackity said smugly.
Red magic swirled around Tubbo’s fingers, and Sam looked behind him at the sound of shattering glass. Cars and trucks came crashing down on him, crushing his suit under tons of metal.
“Just let me run you.” Ranboo said, stepping up next to him.
“You’re still hurt, dumbass.” Tubbo grit.
Sam’s new AI said in his ear, “Multiple contusions detected.”
“Yep.” Sam grit his teeth, trying to push himself up.
Wilson shot at the guy as he flew backwards. Spider-Man dodged, and it hit the beams instead, warping them in an explosion. Spider-Man crouched on different bars away from it. “Jesus Christ!” he yelled, ducking as something airborne came slicing over his head. “Oi! Dick move! I like my neck, thanks!” He slung a web at it, catching it. “I’m a good Samaritan, I’ll return it, you can have this back!” He pulled it to crash into the column Techno had ducked behind.
Wilson slammed into Spider-Man, catching his chest. Spider-Man grunted, slinging a web at the ceiling and pulling himself up. Wilson shot past him, and he shot a web at his wings, jamming them and sending him crashing to the ground. Spider-Man swung after him, webbing his hands to the glass barrier that was between him and the floor below him.
“Are those wings carbon fiber?” Spider-Man asked, sticking to the centerpiece of a circle of benches.
“Is this stuff coming out of you?” Wilson asked, looking at the white spindly webbing.
“That’s my business. Carbon fiber would explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio. That’s goddamn awesome, I’ve never thought about using carbon fiber for that-”
“I don’t know if you’ve been in a fight before,” Wilson interrupted, “But there’s not usually this much talk.”
“The people I usually fight don’t complain. Clearly, I need to speak to your manager.” Spider-Man said, pulling himself up. Techno came running in, and Spider-Man swung at both of them, kicking them both through the glass barriers. When they hit the ground he webbed Wilson’s torso, and stuck Techno’s hand to the ground. He landed on another centerpiece. “Alright, I would love to keep this up, but I have one job and I’m not embarrassing myself in front of Mr. Stark. So, sorry, but not really.” He flicked his hand forward to shoot at them. One of Wilson’s things hooked around his wrist, crashing through a window and dragging him shrieking with, then dropping him.
“You couldn’t have done that sooner?” Techno grunted.
“I hate you.” Wilson muttered.
Phil kicked Ponk to the ground, parts breaking off his suit as it scraped against the ground. He pushed himself up, the baton in his hand broken. “Well, shit.” He said, tossing it. T’Challa went flying behind him from another kick.
Wilbur ran up behind him. “Cap! Here!” He said, dropping a small toy truck into Phil’s palm. “Throw it at this.” He held up a disk with a blue light in the middle. “Now!” He chucked it, and Phil threw the truck after.
The truck enlarged mid-air. “For fuck’s sake!” Ponk shouted as the truck came crashing down on him, exploding on impact and knocking T’Challa and Niki off their feet.
“Oh, shit.” Wilbur commented. “I thought it was a water truck.” Phil looked at him, and turned. “Sorry.” He said as they ran.
Ponk pushed himself up again. “Alright, now I’m pissed.” He hissed.
Sam landed beside Niki, offering a hand. She accepted, letting him pull her to her feet. “Was this part of the plan?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, the plan was to go easy on him. We can change it if you want.” Sam suggested.
Tubbo, Ranboo, and Quackity turned the corner around a bunch of cargo, stairs coming into view. “There’s our ride.” Quackity said, pointing. “Not as fancy as I would’ve liked, but…”
Phil ran in front of him, followed by Wilbur. Wilson and Techno joined at his other side a second later. They sprinted towards the jet.
Yellow light laser’d the ground in front of them, forcing them to slow. Looking up, Vision stared down at them, the green vibranium plates that formed his face pulled into an expression that said all it needed to, even without any words.
Sam dropped behind him, joined by Niki, Spider-Man, Ponk, and the prince as he spoke. “Phil, I know you think what you’re doing is right. But you have to stop. I can help you.”
The two sides stood off from each other, neither moving or backing down for a few moments.
“What do we do, Cap?” Wilson asked.
Phil stared at the people opposite him. “We need to get Techno out.”
“So we fight.” Wilson said, shifting his stance.
Niki sighed. “This is going to end well.”
The split sides of the team ran at each other. “They’re not stopping. Bad choice.” Spider-Man commented.
They clashed. Tubbo started throwing things around, keeping Ranboo behind him. Spider-Man bounced off of things, trying to not get hit while also hitting someone else. Sam and Phil fought.
Quackity and Niki fought, and Quackity flipped her over his back and onto the ground, pushing his now unstrung bow towards her throat. She caught it, saying in the pause that gave them, “We’re still friends, right?”
“Depends on how hard you hit me.” Quackity grinned. Niki nodded understandingly, and kicked him off her, aiming another. Red magic caught her leg.
Tubbo flung her away. “You’re pulling your punches, boss man.” Tubbo told Quackity. He nodded, not even trying to deny it.
Techno and T’Challa had each other by the throat. “I didn’t kill your father.” Techno grunted.
“Innocent men have no need to run.” T’Challa growled, pulling him off and throwing him against a pile of boxes. He leapt at Techno, aiming his unsheathed claws at his throat. Red whisps of magic caught his hand before he could, and Tubbo flung him away as well, throwing him through a boarding tunnel.
Spider-Man swung towards Phil. He threw his shield, cutting the web and sending him to the ground. He caught his shield as it came back, putting it back on his arm.
“That thing doesn’t give two fucks about physics, huh.” Spider-Man said, crouched.
“Look, mate. There’s a lot going on here that you don’t understand.” Phil told him.
Spider-Man snorted at him. “Y’know, Mr. Stark said you’d say that. Predictable much?” He flung a web. Phil ducked, and it hit his shield. He flung another web, this time wrapping around Phil’s ankles, and yanked. Phil was dragged towards him, and he shot another two webs, pulling harder. He kicked Phil as soon as they were close enough together, sending him bouncing off the back of a truck. Spider-Man rolled, crouching again. “He also said to go for your legs.” He snickered.
Phil picked himself up, darting for his shield. Spider-Man saw him, shooting a web at his hands and trying to hold him back. Phil strained for a second, then jumped, spinning in the air to wrap the webs around himself and pull Spider-Man with them.
Wilson twisted in the air, dodging repulsor blasts. “Q, can you get them off me?” He asked.
Quackity drew back an arrow. “You ready? Buckle in. Don’t fall off.”
Wilbur nodded from the tip of the arrow, gripping an edge of it. “I’m ready, let’s go!”
Quackity loosed the arrow. It split itself before it reached Sam, coming at him from different directions. Sam started blasting them. Wilbur jumped off before the one he was attached to was hit, landing on Sam’s suit and slipping between the plates. He grinned to himself. He had wanted to do something like this since he met Hank.
Phil lunged for his shield, picking it up and attaching it. Spider-Man shot a web, and Phil caught it, pulling the other towards him and hitting him over the head with the shield. Spider-Man grunted as his head collided with the vibranium, but picked himself up quickly and pulled himself on top of a suspended boarding tunnel.
“Stark tell you anything else?” Phil called.
“That you’re wrong, but you think you’re right.” Spider-Man’s eyepieces moved as he shifted his stance. “And that makes you dangerous.” He said, swinging towards him and shooting a web.
Phil dodged, jumping and kicking him. Spider-Man flew back, hitting against the leg of the boarding tunnel. “He’s not wrong.” Phil said, and chucked his shield. It hit the leg, sending the tunnel barreling down. Spider-Man caught it before it could crush him.
“Dick move.” He grunted.
Phil caught his shield, returning it. “You got heart, mate. Where are you from?”
“Queens.” He grit out, bending slightly under the weight.
Phil nodded appreciatively. “Brooklyn.” He said, then turned and jogged away.
Quackity shot at Sam, and Sam dodged and blasted. Then his repulsor fuzzed out. “What the hell- Friday?”
“We have some weapon systems offline.” She reported to him.
“What?”
Wilbur laughed, pulling more things from where they were supposed to be. “This is fun. This is going to be a lot of work for you, unfortunately.”
“Who’s speaking?” Sam asked, trying to fix whatever was happening.
“Your conscious, man. I’m Jiminy fucking Cricket.”
“Friday.” Sam said, an underlying command in his tone.
“Deploying fire suppression system.” Friday said.
White gas came fizzing towards him. “Ah, shit.” He hissed, dropping the wire he was holding and running. The gas caught up to him, pushing him through the suit and chucking him out.
Phil and Techno ducked behind two different trucks. “We gotta go.” Techno told him. “That guy’s probably in Siberia by now.”
“We have to draw out the flyers.” Phil said, looking up. “I’ll take Vision, you get to the jet.”
“No.” Wilson grunted over the comms. “You get to the jet. Both of you. The rest of us aren’t getting out of here.”
“Hate to say it,” Quackity said, breathing hard, “But I think he’s right. We can get you two out of here if we stay.”
“You guys need to get out.” Sam said.
Phil exhaled, nodding. “Alright. What’s the plan, mate?”
“We need a diversion. Something big.”
Wilbur picked himself up off the ground. “I can do big!” He said into the comms. “I can’t hold it very long. You’re going to have to run like hell. And if I tear myself in half, the Captain’s in charge of my funeral, okay? Make it good for me.”
“He’s gonna tear himself in half?” Techno hissed.
“Are you sure about this, Wilbur?” Phil asked.
“Oh, yeah, I do it all the time. Well, once. In a lab. I passed out afterwards. It was fun, though.”
Wilbur ran, jumping onto Ponk’s armour. He flipped through the options for his button, selecting one. Then he grinned, and hit the button.
He grew into a giant, catching Ponk by the leg and stopping him from flying away.
“Holy shit!” Spider-Man yelled.
Wilbur laughed gleefully.
“Okay, so the tiny dude is big now, really really big.” Ponk said.
“Hold on.” Sam said, flying towards him.
“Go.” Phil said, running. Techno followed.
“Way to go, Tic Tac!” Wilson grinned.
Sam tried to reach for Ponk, but Wilson hit him in the chest, knocking him off course. Wilbur reared back and flung Ponk.
“I got him!” Spider-Man shouted, turning and slinging a web. The web stuck to Ponk, and he braced against a truck to stop him. Ponk caught himself, activating his thrusters again and heading right back.
Wilbur stepped on a bus, pushing it at T’Challa. Vision landed in front of him, splitting the vehicle in half. T’Challa saw Phil and Techno running, and ran after them. Wilbur grabbed the wing of an airplane and tore it off. He threw it at Sam, and it exploded upon hitting the ground.
“Alright. Anybody on our side have any weird abilities they’d like to display now?” Sam grit, flying after Wilson.
Wilson turned and dove back at Sam, closing his wings. Sam was prepared for their bodies to collide, but instead, a dinky little flying machine shot out of Wilson’s pack and hit his helmet, making him stumble and fall a few feet.
T’Challa climbed atop a pile of boxes as he ran after Techno. Wilbur stepped in front of him. “Yeah, I don’t think so, man.” He said, and kicked in slow-motion. T’Challa dove out of the way of his foot. Wilbur reached for him as he tumbled to the ground, but was stopped by several impacts exploding on his chest.
Ponk flew at him, shooting, and Spider-Man dangled from a web behind him.
“I have something!” Spider-Man said into the comms. “But I need everyone down on the ground, I don’t have a lot of control yet. And we have to take out this big fucker first!” He webbed Wilbur’s arm, swinging around his elbow to gain enough momentum to knock him across the head with his body. Ponk shot at him as well. Quackity distracted T’Challa on the ground in front of them.
T’Challa caught two of his arrows, holding them as they exploded, then tossing them away. He advanced, extending his claws. “I haven’t introduced myself yet.” Quackity said, straightening and clicking his bow into a solid blunt object. “I’m Quackity. Most call me Q.”
“I don’t care.” T’Challa huffed, blocking his first hit.
Wilbur knocked Ponk out of the air, and picked up a truck to hurl it at him. Ponk shot the truck to shreds, and it fell apart before it could reach him. Wilbur tried to step on him, but he flew out underneath his boot. As Ponk flew away he was hit into a plane. Tubbo started chucking cars at him.
Spider-Man crawled on Wilbur’s helmet, knocking on his eyepiece. “Hey! Dickhead!”
“Get off.” Wilbur swatted at him. He leapt off, swinging around him. Vision hit at him, knocking him into the same plane he’d torn the wing from. He saw Techno and Phil running, and went through Wilbur’s chest, materializing again on the other side. Wilbur shrieked. “Something just fucking went through me!”
T’Challa broke Quackity’s bow, kicking him off him and moving to run after the two as well. Vision cut through one of the airport’s towers, and it fell right where Phil and Techno needed to get through. Red magic formed underneath it, holding the crumbling structure above. Phil glanced back to see Tubbo struggling, and nodded his thanks.
Ponk shot near Tubbo’s feet, making him fall away and lose his concentration. The building fell, and the two dove through the crashing concrete, only just making it.
Spider-Man ducked under a swinging hand. “Hey guys! Did you ever see that really old movie, Empire Strikes Back?”
“What the hell? How old is this guy, Sam?” Ponk asked.
“I don’t know, I didn’t carbon date him.” Sam rolled his eyes. “He’s younger.”
“You know that part-” He swung around Wilbur, “-where they’re on the snow planet-” He shot a web at his legs, “-with the walk-y bastards?” He twisted so that the web wrapped around his knees, making him stumble.
“That’s a good idea.” Sam said.
“I’m going high.” Ponk said.
Spider-Man swings around Wilbur’s legs, extending his web as he goes. Sam and Ponk fly together, hitting Wilbur over the head at the same time. The impact sends him falling backwards.
“That was awesome!” Spider-Man laughs, but is knocked backwards by a stray giant hand.
Wilbur hits the button, shrinking back down into his normal size. “Does anyone have any orange slices?” He groans, rolling over and flipping his helmet.
Sam lands by Spider-Man, who’s rolled on his side. “Kid?” He prompts.
“That hurt…” He groans, pushing himself over. Sam offers him a hand.
“Do whatever it is you’re doing, then you’re out.”
He looks like he wants to argue for a minute, then he nods. “Okay. Everyone who uses tech needs to be on the ground and ready for it to shut down.” Sam nods, repeating it into his comms.
Phil and Techno are already in the Quinjet by the time Niki and T’Challa reach it. T’Challa leaps up as it takes off the ground, clawing at the tires as they retract. He misses and is forced to drop from it as covers slide over them. The jet moves out of the hangar.
“They’re getting away!” Ponk says from the ground, looking as if he might try to fly after them. They’re still only around thirty feet from the ground.
“Stay on the ground!” Spider-Man shouts, swinging towards them. “Come help me catch them!”
Ponk runs to stand by him. The other pauses for a second, going still. Nothing happens for a second. Then Ponk’s suit mechanics shut down, his screens going dark. The suit is suddenly harder to move. The engines on the jet above them shut down, and the jet starts falling. Spider-Man and Ponk brace themselves, catching it before it hits the ground. Ponk lowers it to touch the ground, while Spider-Man pulls himself out, swinging on top of the jet and shooting webs to tie it down.
When he knows it’s not going to come away easily, he crawls to the front, pulling off the front. He grabbed both the Captain and the metal arm guy and yanks them out, throwing them to the ground.
Niki, who had run out of the hangar with T’Challa, raised her wrist. Four darts shot from it, sticking both super soldiers twice. The two were unconscious within seconds.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She told Sam. “I only just now got them loaded.” She shot one more at the Prince, hitting him through his suit. “I don’t trust him to not kill them.”
“That’s fair.” Sam nodded, just breathing for a second. “Alright, we need to get these two back. Vision, do you have the twins?”
Two green thumbs-up flashed. Tubbo stood next to him, frowning. Ranboo shifted awkwardly.
“Niki, I trust you’ll handle Quackity. Ponk, go grab the growing guy. Spider-Man, go back to the hotel. Punz will get you sorted.” He sighed. “This is going to be a lot of work.”