Warnings: Blood, Swearing, Injuries

Backstory: Peter and his classmates are on a trip to some tall skyscraper thing. They're on the top floor when something happens and they get knocked out and hurt and basically are in danger.

Peter woke to alarms blaring and people screaming.
He dragged himself upright, hissing as pain shot through his ribs. Blood and dust was caked over his clothes and his bag was gone.
"Fuck," he hissed, swaying slightly on his feet. The last thing Peter remembered was waiting for the elevator at the top of a very tall building his class had been touring.
Then his Spidey sense had flared and he'd been knocked out.
Peter scanned his surroundings. Both the floor and ceiling seemed undamaged, though the glass walls were cracked. Benches and trashcans were in pieces, rubble and debris everywhere. He stumbled over to where he could see Ned, unconscious against a pile of twisted wood and metal.
"Hey," he said, tapping Ned. "Can you hear me?"
Slowly, Ned's eyes slid open, and he winced as Peter helped him sit up. "Wha..?"
Peter grimaced at the blood smeared on his best friend's face. "I don't know what happened. Can you help me find everyone else?"
It was only a few minutes before everyone in their class was found. Surprisingly, the worst injury was Flash's broken wrist, which Peter helped wrap up with torn pieces of someone's jacket.
"We have to try and get out," Mr. Harrington said. "If you have a phone, try to call for help. If you don't, see if you can find the stairs."
Peter checked his pockets again, but the only things he had were extra web fluid cartridges. His webshooters were undamaged and on his wrists, thankfully. Hopefully Mr. Stark would get the signal from them and come to help them.
Searching around did nothing to locate the stairs. Peter held his breath and listened at points to try and see if he could hear air currents, but where the stairs had been was a massive pile of solid rubble and dust. No one had a working phone, all of them gone or crushed beyond repair.
"So we have to wait?" Someone whispered when they'd all gathered again. "We're stuck?"
Peter stared at his hands while everyone fell silent. He wasn't stuck. He could swing out a window and get help, but that would mean revealing himself. And there was no way he'd do that unless someone was in a life-or-death situation. Right now, they were just stuck, not dying.
Flash snarled. "This is ridiculous! What the hell even happened?!" He stomped his foot. "We should be on the ground getting food right now!"
Everyone grumbled, but Peter stiffened. A shiver ran down his spine and he swallowed. "Flash, don't move," he said slowly.
The bully rolled his eyes. "Why not? Stop being stupid, Penis Parker."
Particles of dust rained from the ceiling. Peter locked his eyes on the very small crack above Flash. "Because the ceiling is weakening."
A few people began carefully backing towards the middle of the room, while Flash ignored his words. "Yeah, right," he huffed, putting his good hand on his hip and taking a step forward.
The crack widened again and Peter's entire body trembled.
Peter dove forward, shoving Flash out of the way. He brought his hands up just as the ceiling collapsed.
Dust filled the air as a large piece, the size of most of the room, hit his hands. Peter cried out as he staggered, the full weight hitting his shoulders and palms. His knees hit the floor as his classmates screamed and fell to the ground.
When the dust cleared again, Peter was holding up the ceiling, preventing everyone from being crushed.
"Holy shit," Flash choked out from the floor.
Peter gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He'd easily lifted more before, but never with so many bruised ribs.
"Peter!" Ned gasped. "But-"
Exhaling, Peter opened his eyes and forced a smile onto his face. "It's okay, Ned. I'm okay with them knowing."
No one moved for a moment, staring, then Peter started pushing.
With a grunt, he managed to get his feet underneath him.

A/N: Another quick drabble about Peter being a strong boi. That's it.