•AFTER THE WAR: SPIDER-MAN'S STORY [COMPLETED]•

Chapter 10

Peter coughed in the stifling darkness. He couldn't move his legs, and he discovered they were trapped between two snapped, wooden beams. Thankfully, they weren't broken or sprained, but they made it so that he couldn't get out of the rubble. If they didn't get out soon, they wouldn't be able to breathe anymore- Dakota! "...Dakota? You okay?" Peter gasped in the dusty air.

"No..." Dakota's voice was weak. "I-I think... I think I broke my leg... ow," she trailed off with a cry of pain.

"I can't see you... where are you?" Peter asked. He blinked rapidly, trying to use the dim light to search for his friend.

"On your left."

Peter found her and breathed a sigh of relief. "My legs are trapped; I can't move."

Dakota spoke with in a shaking voice. "I can reach them; I'll try and get them loose."

"Are you sure?"

Peter couldn't see her, but he was pretty sure that she gave him a glare. "I broke my leg, not my arms," she replied.

He felt the wood beginning to shift, and he was able to get one leg free. Dakota let go of the beam and it settled back onto the floor, letting more light into the space. Peter saw Dakota's face for the first time since the explosion. She was extremely pale, and there was blood on the side of her head where she had hit the floor. I must look just as bad, he thought, but my leg isn't broken.

Peter was able to free his other leg easily after that, and he crawled out on his stomach. Bright light hit his eyes, and he had to blink rapidly to keep them from watering. Then he stood up and called to Dakota, who was still inside, "No one's around. I'll help you get out." He heaved a large piece of what had been the ceiling off the pile. This allowed him to then move smaller pieces out of the way, making the hole he had gotten out of larger. Dakota put her hand out, and Peter grabbed it, pulling her out of the pile.

"Ow... ow... ow..." Dakota repeated as she put her arm around Peter's shoulders.

"Sorry," he apologized. He pulled her up onto her one good foot and helped her limp out of the building. They joined the mass of students outside. Most of them were injured in some way, from broken arms to bleeding heads. Some were even unconscious, dragged from the rubble by their friends.

"This is... horrible," Dakota sounded weaker than before. Quickly, Peter lowered her to the grass.

"I'll go get some help, okay? I'll be right back." Peter started off toward a group of people handing out bandages and water.

"You should probably get something for your eye too," Dakota called after him. Peter reached up and felt blood above his left eye. He hadn't felt that he was hurt there before. I was too worried about Dakota...

                    ---

The rest of that day passed in a blur for Peter. The police soon arrived and questioned people, asking what they had been doing before the explosion and if they had seen anything suspicious. However, they didn't get any leads. Meanwhile, Peter, being one of the few who had escaped without any serious injuries, helped wherever he could. Handing out bandages is one thing, but I should be doing more. I'm supposed to be a hero, aren't I? Whenever he could, he looked around for any evidence to who had bombed the school, but he didn't find anything.

Discouraged and exhausted, Peter sat down next to Dakota. She was waiting for yet another ambulance to come and take her to the hospital. For the moment, her leg was bound in a makeshift splint and lying at an awkward angle.

"Hey, Pete." she spoke. "You okay? You don't look so good."

"I'm no different from the rest," Peter answered, gesturing toward all the students around them. He rubbed his eyes wearily.

Dakota closed her eyes, then she asked, "Is Aunt May coming to pick you up?"

"Probably," Peter smiled. "I bet she's breaking a few speed limits to get here."

Dakota laughed, joining in on the joke. "Yeah, let's hope she doesn't get pulled over- oh, look! There's the ambulance. It's about time; my leg's been throbbing for ages..."

Peter didn't hear what Dakota said after that. His attention was diverted to a blistered brick near his foot. It had a faint design on it which seemed very familiar to Peter.

Oh no...

It was the same symbol as the one on Taskmaster's cloak. He did this! But why? Peter suddenly had a terrible thought. He couldn't know my identity... could he?