Spider-Man Imagines I

Rescue Mission | Peter Parker [TH]

"Call me as soon as you land, okay?"

You smiled as Peter handed you your bag. You dropped it on the ground and nodded, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. Your nose was hurting from the cold, and your thoughts were far, far away from the harsh winter of New York.

Your mind was on warm Florida, where you were to be spending a week wirh your parents in Orlando, in a resort at Walt Disney World Resort. You had been looking forward to this for months, and now it was finally here.

"I will," you said. "And I promise to get you something, too."

He grinned. "You don't have to. I know their stuff is really expensive-"

"All the more reason for me to get you something," you joked. "Only my best friend would get a twenty-five dollar Mickey Mouse plush."

He laughed. "Gosh, I'll miss you. It'll suck not getting to go shop after-Christmas-clearance deals this week."

"I know, but I promise we'll hang out before the end of break," you said.

"You'd better keep that promise," he said.

"Hey, you're the one that cancels plans," you pointed out. Your parents honked the horn at the end of the driveway. "Okay, I gotta go. Cinderella Castle awaits!" You beamed. "I'll see you in a week, Pete!" You wrapped one arm around him for a quick hug and pulled away, leaving him blushing and grinning.

"B-Bye," he stuttered, waving after you.

...

You didn't know how it had happened, but it was just your luck to have missed your flight because you were in line for the bathroom. And now your parents were on the plane, you were at the gates, and they weren't letting you on, even as your mother pleaded at the door.

"I-It's okay!" you said, eyeing the angry attendant fearfully. You hated confrontation, and this lady was clearly about to scream at you. "I'll catch the next flight out, Mom. I'll meet you there."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you said.

No.

She looked scared. Your dad murmured something to her and her eyes welled up with tears. "Oh... okay," she said. "We will call you as soon as we land. And please get here before four o'clock tomorrow - we have dinner reservations at Be Our Guest-"

"Ma'am, you need to find your seats," the attendant snapped.

"I'll be okay, Mom," you assured her. You started to back away. "I love you."

"I love you, sweetheart, I'm sorry-"

...

"Hi, excuse me. When's the next flight out to Orlando?"

"Um, let me see..." The woman at the desk trailed long red fingernails across a white keyboard. She clicked the mouse and then shifted her dark eyes to you. "The next flight leaves at twelve o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

Your heart sank. "There's - there's not a flight for today?"

"Mm... no," she said. "Sorry."

You paled. "Okay. Okay. Thank you." You and your suitcase walked away from the desk. Your heart was thumping in your ears as you shakily pulled out your phone and remembered that you couldn't call your parents.

The next best thing, you decided, was to call Peter.

You dialed his number and held the phone to your ear, feeling tears hot in your eyes.

"Hello?" he asked cheerfully.

"H-Hi," you croaked.

"___," he said, "whoa, did you land already? That's a fast plane!"

"I-I'm still in New York."

"Why?"

"I missed my flight," you said. Your voice broke. You swallowed hard to hold back the tears. "My parents are on the plane and I'm not and the next flight isn't until tomorrow at noon and I'm stuck here all night-"

"Whoa, hey," he said. "Calm down. I'm comin' to get you."

"Y-You are?"

"Yeah, I a- I, uh, oh crap! May is gone for the night. No, I'll come and get you anyway. Listen to me, ___." His tone was serious.

"I'm listening," you said.

"I'm going to swing by get you, but you need to stay calm, okay? I know you're scared but I'm coming. Get some food at a restaurant and wait for me to text, then meet me at the exit where the taxis park. Okay?"

"Okay," you said.

"Hang in there," he said kindly. "I'll be there soon. You can sleep on our couch tonight and May will drive you back there in the morning."

"Okay," you said again. You tightened your hand into a fist, feeling the stress melt out of your brain and seep into your fingers, causing them to shake. Before he could hang up, you blurted out, "Pete! Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said softly.

...

You sat in front of a basket of waffle cut fries and a small cheeseburger. You sipped your drink and read your texts from Peter. He was only a few miles out.

Don't text and swing, you sent in reply.

When you finished your food, you wandered outside through true exit Peter said to go through. You waited at the curb, eyes on the sky.

"Psst! ___," a voice whispered loudly.

You turned around and saw Peter - Spider-Man - cowering behind a trash can. He waved you forward. You jogged over, suitcase trailing behind you.

"What the heck, Peter?"

"They were gonna shoot me from the sky if they saw me," he explained. "And also, there aren't buildings nearby because planes gotta land. So, uh, we gotta walk."

You snickered at the idea of walking home alongside a man dressed as Spider-Man. People would stare for sure, which you hated, but you were so grateful that he came all the way out, probably ran miles, and did all of it to get to you.

You beamed. "You're an idiot."

"Yeah?" he asked, "well, this idiot just rescued you!"

"I didn't say I wasn't thankful for this idiot," you said. You took his hand. "Thank you, Peter. You didn't have to do this."

He was probably smiling beneath his mask. "Hey, no biggie. But you probably owe me a stuffed Pluto to go with the Mickey Mouse you're getting me."

You laughed, feeling his fingers thread through yours. "I mean, probably."