Doomed

Chapter Six

Spider-Man was getting tired. The four remaining Doombots were stepping up their attacks, and he was having trouble finding an opening to switch from defense to offense. He looked up and saw Doom's platform about to clear the rooftops and vanish out of sight.

Until it was struck by lightning.

The platform sparked and exploded, though Doom himself was protected by a force field. Dictators and burning wreckage fell to a rooftop. Spider-Man allowed himself an exhale, but remembered that Doom had placed the stolen files in a compartment in the dais, and stared as Carol's cure went up in smoke. His Spider-Sense kept his body moving, but his brain wasn't in the fight anymore.

He heard the sound of Wolverine's claws, felt the reverberations of the thunder as Mjolnir flew past, and none of it mattered.

He'd failed.

The fire burning on that rooftop was burning away the last shreds of his hope. Carol had put her faith in him, and he'd betrayed her. He wanted to fall, to stop moving. It felt worse than Gwen, in a way. Gwen had never asked for his help, never said, "Spider-Man, save me," in so many words. She was unconscious, and he just hadn't been fast enough. But Carol… she'd put her trust in him, to do the right thing, to get the job done, and he didn't. She was going to die, and it would be his fault.

The last of the Doombots fell, and Thor and Wolverine walked over to him. "We must catch Dr. Doom," Thor said, picking up Wolverine. "Come, Spider-Man. We must make haste!"

The god of thunder flew toward the wreckage, and Spider-Man swung behind, his movements mechanical, automatic. They landed next to the trashed platform, and Thor swirled Mjolnir to create a small wind tunnel, sucking the oxygen away from the flames. Spider-Man pushed past and examined the wreckage, searching for any remnants of the pages. He found the compartment, split in two, the door hanging open, scorch marks marring the metal. That was it, then. They were gone, burned away.

Wait, he thought, there are burn marks on the inside of the door, but no ash, no burning paper flying around us.

"That son of a bitch," Spider-Man said, standing. He turned to his fellow Avengers and looked to Wolverine. "Doom took the pages before the crash. Let's sniff him out, Scooby."

Wolverine smelled the air, let his instincts separate the different scents around him. He filtered out the burning metal, the God-awful smell of the Hudson River, the hot dog vendor three blocks down; finally, he found what he was looking for: burning fabric, the faint hint of oil lubricating moving parts. "This way," he said, taking off on a run across the rooftops. "And just so we're clear, bub," he said, looking to Spider-Man, "If you ever call me that again, I'll gut you myself before we ever find Doom."

Spider-Man smiled as he flipped over an air vent. "Aww," he said, "I was gonna grow a goatee and start calling myself Shaggy. Think about it: Steve could be Fred, Natasha could be Daphne…"

"Maintain focus, comrades," Thor yelled down from above them. "The vile Doctor must not have run far, and Mjolnir would much enjoy striking down such a foe."

Blue light flashed from between two of the buildings and hit Thor, knocking the thunder god out of the sky. "Would it, now?" Doom said, rising from the alleyway, the runes lining his gauntlets glowing with magical power. "Did you think Doom unprepared for your compatriots, Spider-Man?"

With a roar, Thor shot off the ground and charged Doom, who didn't flinch. "For Asgard!" Thor yelled, Mjolnir crackling with lightning as the god of thunder brought it down toward Doom's head.

Just before the hammer struck him, Doom stepped to the side and grabbed the handle with his right hand, then put his left to Thor's face, where he released another flash of blue magic. Thor cried out and fell, his hammer dropping to the roof. Doom remained where he was, Mjolnir laying at his feet. "You haven't even brought anyone worthy of facing me," he said.