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Looking back, Peter would be able to admit that his senses had been acting up from the second he entered the airport. In that moment, he had dismissed it as being a byproduct of him stealing Captain America’s Shield, but in hindsight, with all the knowledge he’d have later, he knew it had nothing to do with the Shield.
The first time he tangled with Captain America, nothing felt overly out of place except for the slight tingle at the back of his neck. But he’d already dismissed that, and it hadn’t spiked at all since he first noticed it. He moved on to webbing up the Winter Soldier and the flying guy that he didn’t recognize, before he was flung out of the building by a drone. Which was so cool. Peter wanted to ask Mr. Stark all about it.
It was probably around when he was helping take out the giant guy that Peter began to have his doubts about what was going on. Because Mr. Stark had assured him that it wouldn’t come down to a fight. He had been so sure they would be able to talk everything out. Peter was only going to be there as an extra body on Mr. Stark’s side to show Cap that there were in fact plenty of people on Mr. Stark’s side.
For this not being a fight, there sure was a lot of property damage.
It was likely when Wanda tried to crush Mr. Stark with all the cars in the garage that Peter realized that the two sides were fighting very different battles. Dropping that many cars on somebody, whether they were in a protective suit or not, did not seem very friendly. It didn’t seem like someone who was trying to knock some sense into a friend. It seemed like someone who was trying to take out an enemy. Honestly, it almost seemed as if Wanda was genuinely trying to kill Mr. Stark.
Peter had to walk a very thin line with his abilities. If he wasn’t careful, he could put his fist through someone’s chest. Regardless of what kind of fight he was in, Peter didn’t want to kill anyone, so he was constantly holding back; constantly calculating just how much force he could apply to incapacitate without permanently maiming.
Captain America did not appear to offer his opponents the same courtesy. At least, he wasn’t offering the same to Peter: to Spider-Man. The longer his second tussle with Cap went on and the more hits Peter took that were at Cap’s full strength, the more fed-up Peter became. The harder he began to hit back.
And then Captain America dropped an airport bridge on his head.
The problem with Peter’s strength was that not even Peter knew how strong he was. He tended not to know he could do something until he did it. He knew he was strong because he’d crushed things without trying that no normal person could ever crush; he caught a speeding car with his bare hands; he swung around on webs as his primary mode of transportation almost every night. The amount of strength and resilience needed to be able to do that without the centrifugal force ripping your body apart was insane. So, Peter was strong. But the split-second calculations he made as he watched the bridge drop put the structure at more than a couple of tons.
Peter was a little surprised he wasn’t crushed flat as a pancake. He was not at all surprised when the pavement under his feet cracked from the force.
He took a split second to geek out over the physics calculations that said that with acceleration from gravity, the actual weight he just stopped was even greater than however many tons the bridge already weighed. He’d have to look that up when this was over, because it was not a fact in his repertoire, and it could come in handy for AcaDec.
The cracking pavement, though not surprising, was extremely inconvenient because it threw off his balance enough to force him onto one knee. He was a little horrified, and more than a little disappointed, when Captain America watched him struggle and start to buckle, and just walked away.
Thankfully, Mr. Stark had been excavated from under the cars and came to help him. Unfortunately, it meant Mr. Stark was benching him. He couldn’t blame the man. He had obviously picked up on the same thing Peter did; the other side wasn’t holding back like they were.
Peter didn’t immediately exit the battlefield like he was instructed. He stayed seated on the ground where he had “fallen” and watched things unfold for a few minutes while he caught his breath and let his muscles heal. He would be fine to continue fighting in a few short minutes with the perks of his enhanced healing. Mr. Stark probably didn’t know about that handy feature since it wasn’t in any of the YouTube videos about him. But, even so, if Mr. Stark didn’t want Peter fighting anymore, he should probably listen to him. It wasn’t like Mr. Stark didn’t have enough firepower in his suit to end the fight any time he wanted. Or Mr. War Machine.
But his neck was still tingling, and he couldn’t make himself move.
Peter ended up being in the perfect spot to watch the Black Widow turn on the panther guy. He had a moment of confusion when the first shock went off, followed quickly by a surprisingly hot flash of rage.
Peter Parker didn’t get genuinely angry very often. Spider-man had never been angry. Mostly, they both got disappointed. Sometimes frustrated. However, at that moment, Peter and Spider-Man both were furious.
He was striding across the parking lot – far calmer than it had been even a few minutes ago with several members of Team Cap subdued – before he finished processing what he was feeling. The Black Widow’s eyes darted over to him for a second and he registered their faint widening, but by then Peter was done with everything.
The Black Widow was a renowned fighter and one of the original Avengers. Peter had had a lot of respect for her up until a few seconds ago. He never would have presumed to have stood a chance. But now? Now Peter was done holding back. Natasha Romanov was entirely human, and unenhanced; in reality, it was her that never really stood a chance.
She was webbed up and restrained on the ground before she could really react.
The Panther guy was still shaking off the back-to-back tasers he’d taken, and Captain America and the Winter Soldier were already in the jet beginning to take off. Peter cocked his head, glanced around at the airport, and made countless rapid calculations.
Then began firing his webs.
His webs were strong, but he hadn’t exactly made the formula with holding down a jet mid take-off in mind. The first two webs slowed the aircraft’s momentum, but still snapped. Peter hadn’t expected only two webs to work though and was already firing off more. He didn’t bother counting; he just kept his focus on where to anchor them.
Once he had enough that the jet was essentially halted midflight, he fired several webs that he kept a hold of. Once he was sure he had enough webs in his hands that the force wouldn’t break them, he planted his feet and pulled.
He dug his feet into the ground, sticking them for extra support, then began to walk backwards, one step at a time.
At first, all that happened was his webs stretched even further. Eventually, the jet began to move backwards as well. As the jet, slowly, oh so slowly, approached the airport hanger again, Peter switched tactics. He began to alternate between stepping backwards and stepping forwards as he twisted to wind the webbing around himself, shortening the strands to bring the craft closer to the ground.
Peter often didn’t know he could do something until he did it. He didn’t really think about how much force a Quinjet could produce. He didn’t think about how strong he had to be to pull the craft back to the ground. Peter was pissed and had decided to take the fight seriously. It wasn’t his fault if the other side had dismissed his abilities.
So focused on the jet as he was, Peter almost forgot there were others around until Mr. War Machine flew past the jet and its lights and engines went out. The sudden loss of tension as it dropped to the ground made him stumble, but a strong hand caught his arm before he could faceplant. Peter looked up at the Iron Man suit and couldn’t help but wince.
Mr. Stark had told him to stop fighting and Peter hadn’t listened. He was probably in so much trouble.
“Good job, Underoos,” Mr. Stark said before he continued on to the jet.
Peter finally slumped to the ground and allowed himself to feel the strain he’d just put his body through. Every muscle in his body seemed to feel like a limp noodle even as they twitched sporadically. And yet, he was pretty sure that was the best work out he’d managed since the bite. He’d actually had to strain to do that.
He wasn’t worried about the webbing he was cocooned in. As strong as his webs were, he could still tear them. Even if he was too tired or too weak to, he had some dissolvent on him. He always did.
Peter didn’t move from his place on the ground even as the Captain and his friend were marched past him in cuffs. Instead, he just grinned in a way he was sure was probably creepy with the moving lenses.
“You were holding back.” Peter wasn’t sure if Cap was asking or stating but, either way, his answer was the same.
“I’m always holding back.” Peter narrowed the lenses further. “I’m not even sweating.” Mr. Stark’s steps stuttered with Captain America’s at his comment but didn’t stop.
Peter would tell Mr. Stark later that it had more to do with his difficulty thermoregulating. But Mr. Rogers didn’t need to know that.