Aquaman? Whoops, Wrong Universe: A Percy Jackson Marvel Crossover

Chapter 18: Peter

"I'm going in, Ned," Peter said. "Try to maintain radio silence, okay? It's a little hard to concentrate with your voice in my ear. No offense," he added quickly.

"You got it, spidey!"

"Let's not make that a nickname."

"Everyone calls you that!"

"Like who?" Peter asked, laughing. "Nevermind. Stop distracting me."

Peter landed on the roof of the abandoned (or not-so-abandoned) warehouse, and busted through a window. Immediately, shouts of protests went off, along with the familiar click of guns.

Surprisingly, there weren't a whole lot of guards. Peter counted about a dozen. Karen (Peter's handy-dandy AI) informed him that there were exactly 15 of them, which seemed lax to what he was expecting. He had created a whole scenario in his mind of super ninja warriors with throwing stars and katanas. Peter would burst through their ranks, take them down with his sick parkour skills, rescue Percy, and get out.

Wistful thinking.

Instead of the epic ninja duel he was hoping for, he got several very muscular men with machine guns. 

Peter rolled to his feet, hands in mock defeat. "Ooooo, sorry guys. Really wish I had time to talk. But I kinda have somewhere I need to be right now."

The guards stared at each other in confusion. 

"What?" one of them said. "No. We're gonna kill you now."

Peter's fingers twitched. "Before you do," he said, pausing to adjust his eye cameras. "I-I think I'm gonna sneeze. Ah-ah-ACHOO!" he continued, breathing deeply between each "ah". He thought he made it pretty obvious he was playing with them, but apparently these guards weren't hired for their smarts. On the last "achoo!" he shot his hands out, sending webs out to the nearest guard, sticking his gun to his hand.

"What the—"

Peter webbed up his mouth. "Ah-ah-ah! No more out of you."

"Nice one, Peter!" Ned's voice said, distinctly not following the "radio silence" request.

Thank God (gods?) for his spider sense—he would've been demolished within seconds without it. Bullets whizzed by him, but his sixth sense was just ahead of them. He reacted before he even realized what was coming at him. Thinking back, 15 guards seemed reasonable when you took into account the massive guns they carried. Peter got grazed a few times by stray bullets, but nothing too bad. The wounds stung, and Peter wished for some antiseptic or even a quick bandaid, but ignored it as best he could. 

"Nice shoes!" he told one of them, making the guard pause for a moment to look down at his raggedy combat boots. Promptly, Peter shot a web at him, pulling him forward. He punched him in the face, and the guy dropped like a sack of rocks. 

He quipped endlessly during the entire fight, not bothering to wait for a response. Unfortunately, none of the men besides that first one seemed to be amused by Peter's antics. It would be a really nice change if he met a villain one day who shared his affinity for banter. These fights got so boring sometimes. He mindlessly wondered if his opponents could tell that he was a kid. How embarrassed would they be when they realized they got one-upped by a 17 year old with a spandex suit and some web fluid?

Peter kicked, punched, and webbed his way through their ranks while Ned cheered him on. He knocked a few of the men out, strung a few others up in various places around the warehouse, or simply left them groaning on the floor. Maybe that last bit wasn't the best idea in his situation, but Peter didn't want to waste any time getting to his friend.