The Dark Archer

Chapter 3

Kylie POV

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully. Flash was taken to the nurse's office, and she diagnosed him with a concussion. Ha.

Gwen told the principal that Flash attempted to attack Peter and Peter dodged him, making him crash into the pillar. Coming from the future valedictorian, the story was accepted and no one got in trouble.

Peter and I went to our spot after school—our spot being the warehouse he first trained in after being bit by a radioactive spider. He needed someplace to work out the kinks.

Peter was trying to figure out some stuff about his parents' disappearance when he wandered into a room full of radioactive spiders at Oscorp and got bitten. He shortly found out that he had been changed by the experience, and with the passing of his uncle, became your friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man.

At first he didn't tell me, but then he got seriously injured after one of his battles and came to me. He confessed what happened to him and what he was doing, trying to do his part to better our part of New York: Queens.

I was shocked, but I helped him and hid him because I knew Dad would report him to SHIELD if he knew. At that point he knew about my family because it wasn't an easy thing to hide from him—my best friend. I promised to help him any way I could. I also made a promise to myself to join him out there one day.

Now we trained together after school everyday. He practiced with his web shooters and other abilities, and I practiced hand to hand combat and archery.

Now Peter cleared his throat loudly at me, reminding me of his promise earlier today.

"Okay, Pete. Where is it? Where is my fantabulous birthday present that you just couldn't bring to school?" I demanded sarcastically.

"It is right here, m'lady," Pete said, gesturing to his right with a flourish. I turned my head to look and nearly fainted when I saw what he got me.

It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I ran towards my new bow and arrows with a squeal. They reminded me of my dad's set that he used in battle, but better somehow. Maybe it's because it's mine.

It was the same basic design, but it didn't look all high-tech like Dad's. It looked natural and pure, and it was the most amazing gift I'd ever received. Besides life, of course.

I picked up the bow, and to my surprise it wasn't made of wood as I first thought. It was a lightweight metal that had the outward appearance of shining wood. It was unbreakable and beautiful all at once.

I turned to the arrows in their quiver. The design for both mirrored my dad's almost to the dot, but there were touches of originality in the creation.

The arrows themselves were sticks with flights and no tips, aerodynamic and sturdy. The different types of arrow tips were organized in a removable bottom. I turned back to the bow and noticed an almost invisible control panel that put arrowheads on the shafts.

Suddenly I remembered Peter and the fact that he made these for me. I turned around and beamed at him before running to him and pulling him into a hug.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" I exclaimed excitedly.

"Do you like them?" Peter asked nervously.

"Are you kidding?! I love them! Thank you so much for making them for me!" I yelled, and he grinned at me thankfully. As if I could somehow not like the amazing gift he made for me. "You didn't have to do this for me, you know. I know it must have taken a lot of work," I continued.

"Of course I did," he countered, "You're my best friend." I hugged him again and he showed me what all the buttons did and the types of arrowheads he created.

He created different tips that were normal, explosive, electric, grappling, binding, smoking, and even a type that exploded into a net made of his webbing. He told me that he'd already tested them to make sure they work, and I wondered where he could have tested explosive arrows at.

He also told me that he had a bunch of extra arrow heads and shafts back at his house, and he would get them to me later.

"Peter," I suddenly said as we were training. I was testing out the different arrows, except for the explosive ones of course.

"Yeah Lee?" Peter asked. I carefully drew in a breath, trying to figure out how to convince him. The fact that he made me explosive arrows was encouraging, but I knew Peter wouldn't like my idea one bit.

But I just had to be out there with him, defending the citizens of New York after the lights went out. I felt an incredibly strong urge to protect my home, and to watch Peter's back.

If I had manned up quicker, maybe Captain Stacy would still be alive today. Peter felt guilty everyday for the Captain's death, but I felt just as much if not more because I wasn't there to help at all. I let Peter go through all of the danger alone, and Captain Stacy took the fall for both of us.

"Pete... I want to do what you do," I blurted out. He looked at me, confused. Not the best start.

"I want to go out there and defend the people of New York. I want to help people. I want to help you—not that you need help, but—God, I'm so bad at this," I tried to explain to Peter.

"Wait, are you trying to tell me that you want to be a hero? Go out there and help people? Get in danger every single day for the rest of your life? That is not a good life for you to have, Lee," he replied. I narrowed my eyes at him. Whatever was fueling my mood swings earlier today caused me to snap.

"Who are you to tell me what lifestyle is best for me?" I demanded. "You put yourself and everyone you care about in danger everyday, but I don't stop you! You think I don't have enough to worry about with my dad being a SHIELD agent to add you into the mix? I'm terrified for you, Peter. I know you can handle yourself out there, and I trust you, but what you go through is a lot to handle on your own. I'm so scared that something will happen to you. I don't know what I would do if you got hurt and I was doing nothing. I feel guilty everyday knowing you put yourself in danger for the good of me and the rest of the people in this city, and I just sit around twiddling my thumbs. It's not like I'm defenseless either, Peter! I can nearly beat you in hand to hand combat, and you know that I'm a perfect shot, so why won't you let me do this?!" I ranted.

I stood there, still angry and determined. He and I both stared at each other, dazed by what I'd said. I felt something wet slide down my cheek, and I realized that I was crying. Crap. I hated crying, especially in front of other people, and especially in front of Peter.

I turned to leave, and I nearly reached the door when I felt hands grab my shoulders and spin me around. I found myself looking into Peter's hazel eyes. He seemed to be contemplating something as he stared into my blue ones. He sighed to himself and nodded, wiping away my tears.

"Lee," Peter said carefully. "If this is what you really want, then who am I to stand in your way?" I just stared at him. Is he actually going to let me do this? He took another deep breath before continuing.

"I want you to be safe and happy. I know that you can handle yourself, but I'm your best friend, and I'm always going to worry about you. If you are sure that you want to do this, then it is okay with me—on one condition," he allowed.

"And what condition is that," I managed to squeak out. He was going to let me do this. The thought made my mouth go dry with anticipation.

"You have to be extremely careful out there. I cannot lose you, Lee. I don't know what I would do without you. And how in the world would I explain to your father and family that I let you get yourself killed. I couldn't take that, not after—" he cut himself off. I looked at him with understanding and love. I pulled him towards me and hugged him gently.

"You're not ever going to lose me, Peter," I told him. "I will always be with you, no matter what." And we just stood there, hugging it out. And if a part of me was reveling in the fact that I was hugging him, I ignored it, and comforted my best friend.