[ He thought he was doing pretty well there for a second. He lands a full blow on Fisher, making the thing reel with pain. But - as soon as he makes contact with that mask, he realizes that even his incredible strength isn't enough. That mask isn't budging. It doesn't so much as crack as Peter puts his full strength into it. He's missing a piece of the puzzle here. A weapon, or a type of magic, or ...
It doesn't matter now. The thing pins him again, this time with its full weight. His enhanced strength and durability saves him from dying outright, but Fisher chokes all the breath out of him, leaving him helpless and wordless. So this is it, huh. He's going to die right here and now. It's a strangely comforting thought, now that it's here; it narrows everything down to a single point. He's going to die, which means his only priority is making sure Héctor lives.
He doesn't even look horrified when Héctor offers himself up (though the horror seeps in regardless; he will be terribly upset with Héctor when this is all done, and also kind of touched). It just gives him more clarity, much as the rage had a moment before. Summoning up the last of his strength, he manages to get one wrist free. It won't help himself; his shoulder is shot, and worsening the more that Fisher puts weight on him. His ribs are cracked and he can't breathe. So, instead of calling out to Héctor, he just looks at him. Aching, apologetic, his eyes starting to tear up. He's so sorry, Héctor. He wishes this could end any other way.
His arm trembling from the effort, he slings a web at Héctor's chest. And once that's made contact, he slings the other end of it at the wall of Lumière across the way. In his head he's aiming for Imelda's window - if anyone can save Héctor from his own stupidity, it must be her - but by now he's so dizzy from pain and lack of air that it's all he can do to have the other side of the line connect with Lumière at all. The line tugs Héctor along, away from Fisher, towards safety. Not far enough to keep him from witnessing whatever happens next, no. But maybe far enough to buy him a chance. ]
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It doesn't matter now. The thing pins him again, this time with its full weight. His enhanced strength and durability saves him from dying outright, but Fisher chokes all the breath out of him, leaving him helpless and wordless. So this is it, huh. He's going to die right here and now. It's a strangely comforting thought, now that it's here; it narrows everything down to a single point. He's going to die, which means his only priority is making sure Héctor lives.
He doesn't even look horrified when Héctor offers himself up (though the horror seeps in regardless; he will be terribly upset with Héctor when this is all done, and also kind of touched). It just gives him more clarity, much as the rage had a moment before. Summoning up the last of his strength, he manages to get one wrist free. It won't help himself; his shoulder is shot, and worsening the more that Fisher puts weight on him. His ribs are cracked and he can't breathe. So, instead of calling out to Héctor, he just looks at him. Aching, apologetic, his eyes starting to tear up. He's so sorry, Héctor. He wishes this could end any other way.
His arm trembling from the effort, he slings a web at Héctor's chest. And once that's made contact, he slings the other end of it at the wall of Lumière across the way. In his head he's aiming for Imelda's window - if anyone can save Héctor from his own stupidity, it must be her - but by now he's so dizzy from pain and lack of air that it's all he can do to have the other side of the line connect with Lumière at all. The line tugs Héctor along, away from Fisher, towards safety. Not far enough to keep him from witnessing whatever happens next, no. But maybe far enough to buy him a chance. ]