Spider-Son & Iron Dad two shots

Up The Waterspout

Spooktober 11: Storm

a/n: this spooktober day is entirely dedicated to my fantastic writer buddy stormunavaliable , who is coincidentally named storm!! they gave me this stellar prompt to write out :-) they're participating in spooktober this year too, so make sure to check out their works!

It should be noted beforehand that Peter had noticed the clouds when he climbed out the window tonight. Dark and thick like smoke, rolling in over the river. Even through the mask, he could smell the moisture building, the rain ready to pour.

"Hmm. That doesn't bode well for us, does it?" Peter asked, standing on a rooftop and watching as the clouds gathered in.

"No," Karen cheerfully. "Additionally, lightning is forecasted to hit around seven pm. I would remain careful and cautious tonight, Peter."

Peter sighed. "Alright. Thanks, Karen."

The October weather had proven to be testy so far. Not even two weeks into the month and Peter's already had enough temperature whiplash to become his own personal tornado. Frankly, he should be compensated for only scraping by with the normal cold-pains and autumnal dreariness, especially because his fun spider-genes like to make his life interesting whenever the seasons change. 

Nevertheless, through rain or shine, Spider-Man's out there. Stopping crime, providing a dose of daily criminal beatdowns, exercising his right to procrastinate homework for the greater civilian good-- tonight was no exception, so Peter simply left his observations of the clouds at just that: an observation.

He ended up lasting a very professional one hour and twenty seven minutes before it got real bad.

"Okay," Peter said, ducking under the cover of a balcony. He pulled the mask just up over his mouth and heaved in some breaths. "Okay. What are the chances of waterboarding myself from rain?"

"High enough to warrant concern." Karen's voice sounded warbled in his ears as it layered over the torrential downpour. Cars sped past and splashed muddy-trash water to the sidewalks in walls akin to that of a mini-tsunami. "I would recommend keeping your nose and mouth unblocked and return home quickly.

Peter blew out a breath, looking out at the streets. Gallons of water rush down the streets in waves, and it's honestly harder to tell whether the amount of rain in the sky is greater than that on the ground. 

"Guess I don't really have a choice, huh?" Peter already felt cold and uncomfortable, the wet suit sticking to him like freezing glue. "Alright, I'll call it a night, I guess."

Peter made sure the mask was secure on his face (not difficult by any means, he was already dreading the chafing he'll have when he peels the suit off later), and shot a web out, regretfully swinging right back into the storm.

He made it a block, spluttering water out of his nose and mouth, before Karen spoke up again. "You have an incoming call from Tony Stark."

"What, Karen?" Peter yelled over the rain. "I have a what?"

"Putting the call through and increasing the internal volume."

"Huh?"

Then Tony's face was right there in his display, simultaneously giving him a heart attack, and blocking the view of the building he was trying to swing from.

"Shit!" Peter cried out, missing his shot. The web goes limp, sticking uselessly to a lamppost.

"Hello to you, too," Tony said dryly. (At least somebody was.) "You're heading home, right?"