SpideyDevil

Looks like we got ourselves a Stand Off

Finally, he could wait no longer.
As calmly as possible, without completely running out of the building, he made a swift exit, but still made sure to give the hosts a friendly 'Thank you' and 'Good evening' as he passed by them before walking out the door and onto the street that was still pretty packed with people loitering about with their valentine.
But he knew his wouldn't be here.
Walking a little ways down, Peter ducked into the closest alleyway and launched a web up onto the highest nearby rooftop, shooting himself upwards and onto its ledge.
Under the cover of the somber roof, Peter didn't find an elegantly dressed Matt Murdock, rather a strapping Daredevil.
Pulling his bowtie off with a snappy tug of his wrist, Peter let it float to the floor as his fingers immediately raced to start working on freeing himself from the rest of his civilian clothes while he filled Matt in on what he had read.
"Central Park Tower. Upper penthouse. There's a rich benefit that's been taken hostage by a gang."
Shrugging his tux off of his shoulders, he let that fall to the floor, too. Popping the buttons of his white dress shirt next, he more so ripped the flimsy material open in his haste.
"So far, no casualties, but there's about a dozen people up there. We can get them out of using the emergency stairwell. I don't think they'll be very keen on walking down all those flights, but it's safer than elevators and quicker than swinging them out two by two."
His belt and dress pants dropped to pool around his ankles in a clatter, and he stepped out of them in nearly full Spiderman attire.
Picking up his discarded tux coat, he dug in the pockets for his gloves and mask, which he wasted no time pulling over his fingers and over his face.
Once he had caught up, he finally stopped to fully look at his partner.
Noting a few key differences in his costume, his brows knitted together at the lack of protection that usually adorned the red suit, which he figured was due to being unable to hoist his usual armor around inconspicuously. He supposed sometimes sacrifices had to be made...
-
Matt had been a bit more delicate with his things, including wrapping his cane in his jacket and setting them all in the corner. He'd come back for them later when he had time or was in the area.
For the brief moment he had to himself before Peter had joined him he surveyed the city, crouching low and pulling his phone out to listen to the police scanner for a moment before the spider landed nimbly on the rooftop next to him. Ripping away his clothes like he was on fire and discarding them like they meant nothing.
Despite the serious nature of the mission, they were heading towards Matt couldn't help the salacious thought that flickered through his mind.
He'd hoped the night would go well enough to leave Peter eager to undress. He'd just hoped they would be lucky enough for it to be less professional motivations.
Alas, he made peace with it and picked up Peters coat to fold it as he worked off the rest of his things.
Matt had been to Peter's apartment enough to know he didn't have a lot of fancy clothes, and by the time he was yanking on gloves Matt had added Peter's things to the pile of his own, which he stuffed behind a mess of piping and air ducts, turning back around to meet Peter just as he was yanking the mask over his face.
Matt closed the distance between them, a sultry sort of smile having taken to his fresh shaven chin beneath the horns.
He nodded his head a bit but caught Peter's wrist before he could dash off. Leaning in, he pushed the mask back up so he could press a long, slow lingering kiss to his lips.
"Let's go kick some ass Spiderman."
He pulled the mask back down and offered a small smile as he walked backward towards the ledge,
"Race yah..." his smile broke as he threw himself backward over the ledge, putting every ounce of trust in the magnets of the new gift that sent him arching back towards the next building.
It stole his breath, and as his boots skidded onto the next rooftop he actually laughed as he took another daring leap filled with all the reckless abandon of a man who had much more time to practice with the new toy than he.
But there was something exhilarating, the feeling of the ground rushing towards him, the wind ripping past him, the blare of horns and chatter of people below fading into a stream of babbling white noise. He felt like he existed on another plane entirely, they did, him and Peter.
They would cross paths or land next to one another. In some deeper show of syncopation, there was once Peter's hand wrapped around his wrist, and he was thrown further into his ark.
They made amazing time across the city. Undoubtedly, Matt's own run time increased by his extended mobility, and their collective teamwork propelled them even faster.
Matt skidded to a halt at the top of the nearby Comcast building, the Chrysler, being one of the tallest buildings in the city, towered over them glittering with the red and blue of the police cars below.
The peak was obscured by low hanging clouds. To Matt, this was known only by the drop in temperatures.
Matt's chest rose and fell but not nearly as labored as any normal person might be after a jaunt so taxing as theirs.
Matt huffed a few times and tilted his ear towards the building, it was still too windy and far for him to make out any of the interior but he turned towards his Spidery companion and grunted close to his ear.
"The ledge closer to the top. We can get inside there and head up the last few floors in the interior."
And without waiting for much of an answer he was flipping over the edge of the building, hitting a large swing and arching his back to lead with his toes into the ark to gain height for his next swing.
But they could only get so much height before hitting the side of the building - still with plenty of distance left to climb.
"They really couldn't have picked a taller building." The horned hero called over the whipping wind as they were forced to sling shot themselves up the building for the last few hundred feet. Jostled by passing helicopters and the roar of wind.
By the time they were on the relative calm of the ledge, Matt was feeling trepidations as to the height of this battle, even with Peter's new gift it was a dizzying distance and a deadly fall.
But he tried to put the thought from his head, an easy task as above them the sounds of gunshots rang out, dull at first, a deep crack echoing each one, before there was the sound of crystalline rain. Glass shattered above them from the penthouse overhead, Matt turned his chin down to prevent the glass from getting on him in any meaningful way and moved to press his back close to the building to make himself harder to see from above.
At first Matt thought this meant the attackers had seen them, after all helicopters had been circling the building with spotlights, they had caught the Spider and Devil as they made their way up the skyscraper, but as he was thinking this another round of shots crippled and shattered the farther side of windows.
As if they were doing it on purpose... as if they wanted someone to have an easy entrance or an easy exit.
Matt shook his head before he grabbed Peter by the arm so he could speak close to his ear.
"If my count is right, there are only three guys." The absence of the windows gave Matt a lot more information.
"If they are taking out the windows, it has to be for a reason. And I can't imagine it's a good one. I am going to continue up the hard way and distract them. You keep to the plan and smuggle people out the back."
He didn't wait for Peter to agree with him. He was already starting his way up the side of the building. It was a rare show of where they had a hitch as a hero team.
Matt often forgot to talk to Peter about plans. He sought the harder fights for himself, even if Peter might have been better suited. It wasn't a purposeful move on Matt's part, it was negligence- he wasn't used to working in the field with someone else and despite respecting and trusting Peter with his life he went into battle mode and forgot to talk with his partner.
He was a tactician surely but he was often ruled by his heart, and it thundered fiercely in his ears and he reeled himself in through the broken window, landing with a rather impressive roll to his feet.
Even scanning the whole way up he was not ready for what he had walked into, three men had a group of wealthy and elegantly clad party guests gathered with their backs pressed against the remaining wall of glass.
Many of them were crying, men and women both, but the Daredevil remained undistracted with their fear. He lowered himself into a readied crouch, clubs glinting heavily in his gloved fists as the three men turned on him.
"Aaaah, there he is!"
Matt remained quiet, stoic, his mouth etched in a deep frown.
"We were starting to think you wouldn't show. Daredevil." The man speaking held a heavy southern drawl, and he spat the hero name like it was something more ridiculous than the get up he wore.
Matt couldn't make out the exact nature of it, but he smelled leather, bergamot, and soil. These guys were not from around here. He didn't need to see the cowboy hats to know that.
"My invite must have been lost in the mail." His growl received a snicker, and the three turned to face him fully.
"Shame! Well, let me just get the formalities settled then. My name is Montana, best shot on this side of the Mississippi and this here is my little gang! Fancy Dan," he motioned to a tall, lanky man who was gripping tightly with leather and kevlar gloves at a thick metal lasso,
"And Ox," he motioned to the hulking man at his shoulder.
"And we've been hired cuz you are a nosey sonofabitch who can't mind his own. So we are here to teach yah what happens when you stick your horns where they don't belong."
-
In his hurry to untangle himself from his civvies, an overzealous Peter hadn't quite caught on to Matt's considerate endeavor with his discarded clothes. So as his hazel hues fell from the simplified Daredevil costume to the lack of fancy garments that had been previously strewn about the concrete rooftop to where they were now neatly stashed, his mouth gaped open into a soft, round o'.
It was true he didn't have very many nice things, and although he knew he should take better care of the few he did have, keeping them in pristine condition hadn't really been at the top of his head when his main priority was rushing into action.
But Matt's thoughtfulness making up for where his attention lacked was deeply touching to the young man.
So as his suave, attentive boyfriend closed the distance between them, taking ahold of his wrist in his strong hand while his other lifted his mask up, revealing the smitten smile that had bloomed across his face, Peter tipped up onto his toes and spread his fingers over his broad chest and leaned into the long sensual kiss, savoring every single stroke and push of lips.
When they broke away, a renewed sense of vitality and determination swelled within his chest. With Matt by his side, kicking ass and taking names, Peter never felt more complete.
Mask fixed back onto his face, Peter hopped after Matt to the ledge of the building but at the sight of him falling backwards over the edge, the jaded hero's eyes startled to the size of saucers.
Although Peter was more than confident in the weapon he'd built and he would never give Matt anything he wasn't one-hundred percent certain was fully functional, there was still something heart-racing about watching him fall back over the edge of the building, throwing caution to the wind.
But as Daredevil landed on the rooftop over with the fearlessness that was fitting of his moniker, laughter on his lips and confident as ever, Peter's startlement quickly switched to ecstatic happiness for the new mobility and freedom his gadget gave him.
The scientist could nearly squeal.
Taking off in a running start, Peter jumped and shot a web, propelling himself forwards with a firm tug of his muscular arm.
He caught up with Matt within a matter of seconds.
"Giving yourself a head start seems hardly fair," he teased, flinging a web in time to arch over an alleyway. He landed on the other side in a crouch. Springing up to his feet, he continued to run alongside him, a cheeky smirk playfully curling his lips, "Seeing as you clearly already have the swing of things. Pun fully intended. Not surprised at all," he chuckled.
One of the many things Peter loved about his boyfriend was that he had many talents. One of them being the incredible ability to pick up on new things at an impressive speed, which only helped to add to the ever growing list of skills, and this was certainly no exception for the horned vigilante.
Although when they got to their first long jump between two uneven high-rises, the experienced web-slinger took a hold of Devil's wrist, giving him an extra boost to get up and over to the other side.
As they made their trek across the city rooftops and scaffoldings, Peter felt bubbly and giddy, fully enjoying this new dynamic to their freerunning.
But all the while, he was becoming increasingly aware of a light buzz dawning on him from the cocktails his metabolism had yet to fully process. He only had two drinks, but he wondered if maybe he'd underestimated the alcohol content hidden behind the delicious fruity flavors.
However, their climb up to the top of the Chrysler building was a sobering affair.
Staring down at the scene of cop cars and helicopters patrolling the skyscraper, their flashing lights of blue and red yielded a fierce intensity that commanded for gravitas and urgency. The seriousness of the situation was explicit and palpable.
Because as much as Peter liked his fun and even took mirth in toying with the criminals he came into contact with, he never ever messed around when civilians were in immediate danger.
From over the roaring wind, Peter heard Matt's baritone voice pointing out the dizzying heights the criminals had picked, to which he called back, "Yeah, you'd think they were overcompensating for something!"
Although it was not very daunting to the vigilante who had made skyscrapers his roads, and his favorite spot in the city the top of the Empire State Building (a considerable 60 meters taller), he still kept a cautious eye on boyfriend as they catapulted higher and higher.
Even as they made it to the relative safety of the ledge, Peter hovered close to Matt's elbow, more for his own reassurance than anything. Because despite knowing Matt was fully capable of handling himself and his new tool, they were at an extreme altitude.
He nearly jumped out of his skin as loud metallic clangs of bullets rang and silvery bursts of glass ruptured the air around them. Sharp debris rained down on them and Peter swayed closer to the wall, covering his head, letting any cutting shards scrape his arms instead.
Spurred into action by the eruption of violence, he straightened up as soon as the fallout was over but before he could rush inside to put their rescue plan into action, Matt's hand on his bicep froze him in place.
Continue up the hard way??
Bewildered at the sudden change in plans, Peter blinked and opened his mouth to try to talk it out with him, at least switch who took the more perilous climb up, but the daredevil was already gone, grappling upwards, focused on his new objective.
Although Peter knew Matt only meant well and this communication stuff was something they just needed to work on a bit more, he still couldn't help the sigh of frustration as he nimbly balanced across the narrow ledge. Gluing his hands against a window he used his sticky spidery fingers to create a suction, prying it open wide enough so he could slip through.
Plopping down into an empty boardroom stinking of wood polish and maroon walls aligned with oil paintings of old white men, he didn't waste any time running into the long, empty corridor, and straight to the spiral stairwell that when he stared up, continued onwards for an alarmingly long distance.
Not interested in a leg day exercise, Peter shot a web up to the top banister and launched himself upwards, springing from railing to railing until he made it to the top, swinging his legs over the banister.
Slowly, so as to not make much noise, he gradually twisted the handle of the door.
Easing it open, it uttered a loud groan and he flinched, dreading he'd already given himself away, but to his surprise the grand dining room it opened to was empty.
An absolute mess. But empty. Elegantly carved chairs had been knocked over, bullet holes were splattered across white marble walls. As Peter stepped into the room, his foot crunched under a splatter of delicate pieces of china, almost as if someone had tried to fend off the intruders by throwing a plate. A noble attempt.
His eyes shifted to the opposite side of the room where a hall branched out to what Peter assumed to be a lounge, where the distant voices of men echoed from.
Crawling up the wall, he crept along the high ceiling towards the threshold of the room where he was greeted by the sight of the three assailants, all turned towards the Daredevil and progressively rounding up on him, forgetting all about the group of civilians huddled against the windows, all teary eyed and understandably shaking with distress.
As the civilians caught sight of him, Peter pressed a finger to his lips, motioning to them to remain silent.
With the three men's backs turned towards them, distracted by the devil on their hands, the spider lowered himself down, and one by one, he grabbed the hostages, ushering them to the safety of the dining room where he instructed them to escape through the stairwell.
But as Pete attempted to help a woman in her mid 40s, in her shaken distress she scraped her heels against the marble flooring as she moved towards Spiderman's outstretched hand. Peter held his breath but it was enough to catch the attention of the criminal in the jcowboy hat.
As the man twisted around, lasso already twirling between his fists, Peter fired a web to bind him. But the cowboy was a quickshooter too, and faster than the hero under the influence of alcohol.
Peter's spider senses rang in alarm at the back of his skull, but it was too late. The lasso enveloped his arm and tightened around his wrist and he was yanked down from the tall ceiling, onto the hard marble floor, knocking the wind out of his lungs.
He struggled for a moment to clear his head.
"Yep, definitely regretting that second drink now," he grumbled under his breath.
Climbing up to his feet as swiftly as he could, he wrenched his wrist up to get the lasso to snap but to his horror it didn't break. Instead, tiny, sharp edges cut further into his suit and skin.
He hissed and whipped his free arm out, but before he could get his finger to his trigger, it was captured by a piercing lariat too.
"Well I'll be damned.. Look what I caught." The cowboy jeered, pretty proud of the prize he'd snared. "We don't take too kindly to party crashers, Spiderman." He tightened the ropes, constricting the vigilante's arms out in front of him. "But since you're here, might as well teach ya a lesson too. Doesn't feel so good being on the end of the line, huh? "
Peter huffed out a hollow laugh and shook his head, "No, but it does pull both ways. Yee-haw!"
Gritting his teeth into his lower lip, Peter took a hold of the lariats and tugged on them, letting the knife-like edges burrow into his skin. The sting was executing but he bore it.
Caught off guard by the sudden show of strength, Montana practically flew towards the stronger mutate. Before he could regain his footing, the spider was lurching forwards, landing a firm kick square in his chest and knocking the cowboy backwards onto the floor, his hat flying off his head.
Taking advantage of the slackened lassos, Peter quickly freed himself from his binds, suddenly aware that his nagging tingle had gotten a lot louder.
-
The Daredevil cracked a smile.
"Teach me? You will find I am a very dedicated student, Montana, but I doubt there is anything I have to learn from you besides who hired you to cause this scene and hurt these people?"
"Pfft, we ain't hurt nobody... yet. We been savin all that action for you!"
"Sure. And I will give you the fight of your life. Just as soon as you tell me who hired you."
"You ain't too smart are yah demon... you been meddlin round with some good folks business, you didn't think they would meddle back?"
"... the Russians? The Yakuza? You will have to excuse me boys, I have a very full schedule.."
"Hah! Yakuza!? You really don't know nothing. "
"Anything. I don't know anything. "
He was speaking louder than he normally would with criminals, longer than he normally would, his baritone only cut by the whip of wind through the blown window panels.
He did everything in his power not to flinch when the woman's shoe hitched the rescue, but it was too late, as Montana yanked his sneaky boyfriend off the ceiling he shot a club at his head, but it was batted down like a pesky fly by the one called Ox, who loomed at least three times the devil's size.
Dan shot a few times at the Devil to watch him dance, landing an evasive flip just in time to catch a freight train fist to the face.
Matt was on the ground without much remembering the journey there, and he heard Montana speaking now to the spider but what they were saying was interrupted by another of Ox's demolition punches, which landed unimpeded in his face before he could get his fists up. He felt blood burst from his nose and a mangled groan escaped him as he rolled away from the larger man just as his fist cracked the marble floor where Matt's head had been. His maneuverability his only remaining upper hand Matt tried to run with it, twisting back to his feet and snapping the club to its full length, using both kumber wrapped fists he swung the baton like a bat, cracking the monstrous Ox in the knee which did make him buckle enough for Matt to get a one, two combo in, but otherwise seemed to do very little to stop the man from getting back to his feet.
The Devil landed a few more punches but it was like hitting a brick wall, and this one returned the favor, though Matt threw both arms up to block the lobbed fist he was sent flying onto his back, skidding across the marble floor dangerously close to the ledge of broken glass.
But with the Daredevil floored and both cohorts being thrown off the spider Ox changed his focus.
As the Spider managed free of the cutting cords he was rewarded with the walloping fist of the largest raider.
"I hate bugs." He grunted as the Spider was grabbed by the hulking hands, one wrapping around his neck to hold him out at arms length so he couldn't reach the larger man's face, the other landed dizzying blow one after another as he carried the spider to a nearby marble column where he slammed him so hard there was a crater, of which he pulled Peter back from only to slam him again, mercilessly expanding the cracks with the Spiderman's struggling form.
Matt had rolled to his knees, spitting out blood, blowing clumps from his nose, as Peter was pinned. He could hardly make up from down but the winded pained grunts from his partners lips were enough direction, and more than enough motivation.
Despite every inch of him aching his fingers found one of his clubs, reeling in the loose end as he got to his feet, knees wobbling dangerously and blood dripping profusely as an animalistic growl broke his lips.
crack
Peter was slammed again and in a few short bursts of shaky breaths the growl grew into an outright roar, it mingled with the wind and chilled to the bone and it was followed by the heavy thunder of his boots.
He crossed the room, bounding up a broken table and leaping onto the mountainous back of the man who held his boyfriend in his merciless grasp.
Matt had ceased to think. He was running entirely on instinct as one arm wound around Ox's neck, using his baton to cut off air as his other fist wailed brutally against his head.
This was enough to get him to drop the oxygen deprived Spider, but he reeled backwards, slamming the Devil into a column under his full weight, knocking the air from his lungs and leaving him to slide to the ground in a bleary attempt to gather himself and his weapon.
He heard Peter give a heaving cough from across the room and managed a groan of relief as he got to his feet.
But the three men had gathered themselves quicker, and by the time Matthew was sweeping the room, he realized the sounds of a woman's pleas and cries had gone unnoticed in the commotion.
One of the hostages that hadn't yet scrambled from the room with the spider's aid had been taken in the gasp of Montana, who had her wrist looped in the lariat standing at the edge of the broken window, kareened backward over the ledge she held tightly at the stinging wire with the uncaptured hand in an attempt to keep the pressure from cutting her skin, release from either end meaning a long tumble.
"Nobody move..." Montana panted as Dan and Ox gravitated toward their leverage in an attempt to regain the upper hand.
"Or I drop the broad."
The other remaining hostages had taken the opportunity to run. It was just the five panting men and one sobbing young woman - wind tearing at her glittering cobalt dress and the fearful tears rolling down her cheeks.
Matt was crouched, his breathing heavy and stance wide, clubs at the ready, only about ten feet from the three men - who had guns on them now.
Peter wasn't much further away, perhaps twenty feet, having regained his breath, creating a triangle that sparked with the collected tension of the moment.
Matt knew, he saw in the way only he could, Peter's fingers hovered at the triggers of his web shooters and Matt tightened his grip on his clubs, the slightest nod of his horns the only indication of how ferociously he was begging Peter in his mind to take the damn shot. Hit her Peter. Please christ get her.
It happened quicker than Matt knew how to process:
Peter lifted a wrist, web splaying through the air towards the woman, Matt rushed forward to meet the weapon less Ox, all the while dodging the bullets Dan shot wildly at the places he had only just been.
A club was grabbed by the hulking man but Matt slid between his legs and he was forced to let go, giving Matt the opportunity to crack the gun from Dan's grasp.
It was only then that he realized Peter had not hit his mark, Montana had boldly stepped in front of the web, grabbing it and pulling the Spider towards himself with a surprising force.
And zipping past Matt's foot, in an ear piercing hiss, was a metal lariat.
There was no time to think.
Nothing to think about.
Matt dove out of the window, air tearing past him at such speeds that he felt almost entirely blind.
His fingers found the diamond wire and he tugged the girl, who cried out sharply as it cut into her wrist, back towards him (or maybe it was more appropriate to say *down towards her.*)
Even as his arms wrapped around her thin frame he felt no relief, they were falling wildly at odd angles and she was panicked and clinging at him in a way which didn't help.
He was running out of time, what felt like an eternity of struggling with the woman to get upright must have really only been a second; but as soon as he could tell where *up* was he shot the magnetic grapple. As his line grew taught he tried to release more of it to slow the tension but he was horribly under practiced and the angle wasn't quite right, he caught the weight of their fall- a dizzying pop echoed in his head so loud he was sure the woman clinging madly to him must have heard.
But there was no rest for the wicked, they were sent swinging back towards the impossibly tall building and Matt had no available option than to twist them and take the brunt of that hit as well, a landing so heavy he nearly released the woman and his own grasp on the club.
But both managed to hold, if only barely, and he sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord above.
Mostly because he was only now realizing they had happened to be on the *ledgeless* side of the building. If it had been the other side they would probably be way more dead.
But it did make Matt's options for getting down horrifically slim.
He tried to calm the woman who was sobbing loudly in his ear, but it was difficult for him to manage anything past the growing tension in his shoulder.
"Okay. Okay OKAY." His sharp tone dampered the woman's cries and she quieted slightly.
"I am going to move us. I need you to climb onto my back, so I can use both hands "
She started to tell him no in a hysterically desperate fashion but he hissed her into a hiccuping silence again.
Reluctantly she nodded her head and he pushed off the cold glass with slipping boots and weak knees, but it was enough for her to shift, shaking and crying still, onto his back; wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his neck.
Matt relieved the pressure on his throbbing shoulder, taking the club in his other hand and taking a couple of centering breaths before both hands came back.
He tried to push himself back at the right angle to start walking up the glass, but the extra weight of the woman on his back made his abs and arms scream in pain.
He groaned softly and turned his head up towards the window.
Christ...he hoped Peter was okay.
-
Twisting around at the behest of his agitated tingle, Peter only saw a huge fist in his field of vision, but it was already too little too late. Before he could even get his hands up to block it, pain erupted all over his face, sending him staggering backwards and a gruff groan spilling from his lips.
Man he really wasn't in the zone tonight.
Still reeling from the punch, Peter backpedaled to put some space between himself and the colossal man threateningly encroaching on his person, yet he couldn't stop himself from swiftly quipping back the correction, "Actually spiders aren't bugs- Hrrk!," A large hand squeezed around his throat, cutting him off, and he received another resounding punch to the face in thanks.
It was all alarmingly jarring, however it only dawned on the hero how much trouble he was in when he felt his feet leave the floor, making it impossible for him to get any sort of solid purchase to throw the goliath off of him.
But despite Ox holding him at a distance, Peter could still aim swings at his arms. He collided his fists into his elbow and wrists in an effort to break the iron hold but despite the pained grunts he got out of him, the criminal didn't waiver nor relent as he proceeded to slam him into the pillar.
Stars shot through Peter's vision.
His lungs felt like they were on fire, screeching for just an ounce of oxygen.
As he was repeatedly thrown into the hard marble, his hand's twisted up to try to pry the brute's fingers away from him but that was more of a challenge between the hand around his throat constricting his last breath of air and the forceful blows his head was forced to take the full brunt of.
He didn't know how Matt was fairing in his fight, but he hoped he was doing far better.
As the pressure tightened around the slim column of his throat, making it impossible to get a breath in between hits, his vision blurred and the edges of his peripheral darkened to inky blackness that promised to sweep him away into unconsciousness if he didn't do something quickly to save himself.
But his weak struggles weren't enough.
His vision darkened. He was hardly aware of the Devil who joined in on their brawl until the tight tension coiled around his throat suddenly broke and he was stumbling onto his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for lungfuls of air.
But he had little time to collect himself. Ignoring the painful throbs at the back of his head, Peter rose to a stand at the sounds of the weeping hostage, dangerously tipping over the edge of the building, her life literally hanging by a thread.
The sight made the hero's blood run cold but he didn't dare to move, not doubting Montana would deliver on his threat.
Fingers flexed above his webshooters, Peter's eyes quickly scanned the other men in the room prepared to pull on their own, much more deadly, triggers, and then to Matt in his peripheral, crouched at the ready. His sharp spider eyes picked up on the slight nod, and that was all the confirmation he needed.
Quickly flicking his wrist outwards, his fingers pressed the trigger, springing his web forward to grab the woman with the accuracy of an expert marksman. As expected, at the very same time, the rest of the room dissolved into chaos as the criminal that went by Fancy Dan let loose with his ammunition. But the richotating bullets were the least of the hero's concern, as to his absolute horror, Montana, anticipating his move, stepped in front of his web and yanked him forwards as he let the woman go. Her scream was piercing as she flailed over the edge, her hair whipping into her face as she fell backwards and out of sight.
"NO!" Peter shouted.
He sprung forwards for the save, but Montana immediately put a stop to that by landing a kick to his chest - payback for earlier- and as Peter staggered back he could only helplessly watch as his boyfriend went over the building after her.
Terror seized Peter's chest so tightly his heart stopped. The world around him seemed to move in slow motion as old nightmares came to the forefront of his mind.