I've been wanting to write this story for such a long time, it feels so surreal to actually be writing it

My first fanfic had actually had the same name and a similar plot, but sadly, my first fanfic had been one of the bad ones. It had been so short and the plot had been so bad, but it had the same name as this one, it's sort of like I'm reviving it :D

Anyways, excluding my first fanfic, this is only my second Spider-man story, so sorry if anyone is out of character.

Important note: this takes place before the Amazing Spider-man 2, but for the sake of the story, the Amazing Spider-man would've taken place during Peter's freshman, sophmore, or junior year. It doesn't matter too much, but it just fits for this story more.

Please excuse any typos, I only revised this once, but if it has too many errors I'll look over this again.

I hope you guys enjoy! :D

Peter actually thought today was going to be a good day. The sun was shining, he had managed to complete all of his homework, and he had left early in order to have enough time to go to school and stop any crimes on the way.

He was in the midst of congratulating himself on leaving so early when he heard glass shattering. There was a robbery just a little down the street. Instantly, he veered into the closest alley and climbed to the roof. He grabbed the mask, gloves, and shoes of his suit from the pockets of his tan-colored jacket. Then, he stripped himself of all his baggy clothing to reveal the Spider-man costume he kept underneath before and after school. Setting his backpack down, he jumped from the roof and shoot a web to a nearby building when he was about to hit the pavement.

His eyes scoured the streets for any disturbance. It didn't take long for Peter to find the location of the crime.

In front of a jewelry store stood three men pointing their guns at nearby citizens. There was another burglar in a car with the doors closest to the store open, ready to leave at any moment.

Two of the men with guns were yelling at civilians, but the one next to the entrance of the shop was screaming at someone inside to hurry up while taking the jewellery that had been on display.

That was when Spider-man swooped down right into the nearest man. Luckily, one of the robbers was directly behind the other, so Peter knocked them both down like a pair of dominoes. When they fell to the ground, their bodies and guns were immediately coated in a heavy amount of webbing. They fruitlessly struggled.

"Hope you kids get cozy," Spider-man quipped.

He heard a gasp from the man in the car, and with a quick press to his web-shooter, the man was strapped to his seat. He was unable to touch the steering wheel due to his arms being trapped to his side, and, hopefully, that would stop him from attempting to drive the car. He heard a couple dings as jewelry fell onto concrete and then the resounding click of a gun being cocked to fire. Peter whirled around to face the thief.

The man pointed the rather large gun at Spider-man, the stolen items laying by his feet all but forgotten. The robber turned his head slightly but kept his fearful and angry eyes on the superhero.

"George! The spider is here!" There was a loud, "What" from within the store before a man bursted through the front door of the building. His hands were full with two medium-sized bags. The burglar with the gun seemed to get even angrier, "You idiot! You left your gun!?"

Somehow, the man seemed sheepish, even through the mask covering his face.

"Please," Spider-man interrupted. "You guys passed idiocy when you thought of robbing a store in the morning, and as fun as this has been, I think this little party has dragged on long enough." He could faintly hear sirens that were getting louder by the second. Once upon a time, he would've been happy to hear the noise. It would've meant that the police would be able to pick up the criminals he had dealt with, but that had changed suddenly when they had started to fire at Peter on sight. Gwen had told him it was probably because a new police chief had been chosen, and he already missed the chief that had been originally picked to replace Captain Stacy. For an entire year, the woman had stopped any mistreatment towards Spider-man, but ever since she had been removed from her position, practically every police officer fired at him. And every time they fired at him, they got closer to actually hitting him. They were learning how to work against his spider-sense.

Peter didn't want to deal with the authorities; this little robbery had to end, fast.

With that thought, he fired a thick coat of web at the burglar with the gun before the man could even react. He collided against the brick wall of the building, stuck.

The other man — George — started to shake, and before Spider-man could blink, he was running away. Innocents crashed into the ground as he rammed into them in a desperate attempt to run.

"Don't run away," Spider-man whined, barely able to hide the anxiousness he felt. The police sirens were getting closer. "I thought we were just starting to know each other."

He leapt into the air, high above the crowd. They collectively gasped at the height he had gained.

The vigilante didn't have time to smirk however as he focused on shooting one strand of webbing onto the back of the sprinting man. Instead of pulling the robber towards him, he flung the man into the air with him.

The man loudly shrieked as his feet left the ground.

Throwing the man into the air caused Peter to land sooner than normal. From the ground, he fired at the man and pulled him to his direction. The man screamed again, even more obnoxious than before. Spider-man was amused to hear some of the people in the crowd giggle.

When the burglar was close enough, Spider-man snatched him in midair. Though the man was much bigger than Peter, he held him by the collar of his jacket so he hung above the ground like a cat would carry her kitten.

The police were turning onto the street now.

In one movement, Spider-man took the two bags from the thief's hands and threw him at the jewelry store. With a quick burst of webbing, he was attached to the door, neutralized. Peter did the same to the two bags in his hand.

Any witty remark he had been about to say died in his throat as police cars swerved to park and officers jumped out of their cars to point their guns at Spider-man.

The confused and shocked gasp that came from the crowd just about matched his conflicted emotions perfectly.

The vigilante weakly chuckled and half-heartedly saluted, "Oops, ha ha... Looks like it's time for me to go."

Before he could shoot a web, one of the many police officers spoke, his voice and expression hard and cold, "You aren't going anywhere." Without another word, te pulled the trigger on his gun, and three more officers followed his example.

Peter's spider-sense blazed in the back of his head. He swiftly moved to the right to dodge the first shot, he ducked to avoid the second and the third, and he jumped to avoid the fourth. He couldn't say or do anything before another gun was fired. It was followed not a split-second later by another shot. He swerved to avoid the first bullet, but he couldn't react fast enough to dodge the second.

It impacted his side. It stung for a second, but it didn't hurt. He looked down, and his heart nearly stopped. It was a dart. With a quick turn of his head, he realized that none of the shots fired had been bullets. They had all been darts. He grabbed the one that had hit him and tore it out of his side. He managed to feel disappointed at the fact that there wasn't a label decorating it before he was forced to drop it, shoot a web to a skyscraper on the other side of the street, jump, and swing over.

Multiple and numerous yells came from the officers. Some got back into police cars, others started to chase after him on foot.

When Spider-man was about to impact the building, he shot another strand of webbing to one on the other side of the street. He swung low to the ground before reaching the peak of his ascent where he twisted his body to fire at the building he had come from.

Peter looped around the building and then stuck to its walls, hiding in its shadows. A few moments passed as he waited for the officers to travel a distance that Peter considered safe. He strained his enhanced ears to hear the pounding of feet and the swerving of speeding cars. He heard them, faintly. And they weren't heading in his direction.

His quiet sigh of relief turned into a harsh cough. The superhero moved a hand to his mouth in an attempt to muffle it when he almost fell forward, like he was too weak to hold himself up with only three limbs. Immediately, his arm sped back to the wall. He was badly shaking, and he could feel sweat collecting beneath his suit.

That was no tranquilizer dart. It was something worse.

He lightly pushed off of the wall to land on the roof of the nearest building. To make sure he hadn't been seen, he hunkered low for a few moments, and payed extra attention to his dulling senses. When he was sure it was clear (his spider-sense further confirming the fact), he jumped from rooftop to rooftop until he reached the one that held his backpack and clothes.

By then, he was breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf. Spider-man shook his head which only succeeded in making him dizzy.

He slowly crouched down by his hidden backpack and fumbled with the zipper. When he finally was able to grasp it, he pulled it up achingly slow, not able to do it any faster.

With the backpack's pouch open, he took out his clothing. He set it down then sluggishly removed the glove from his hand; it was slick with sweat. Peter grimaced, and took off his other glove and then his shoes and mask, all of which took way longer than it should've.

Peter didn't even want to try to take the body of his suit off, no matter how sweaty it was becoming or how it made it possible for students or teachers to see his costume (was he even going to go to school?). He couldn't imagine how long taking it off would take, and, judging from his current condition that seemed to worsen every moment, he didn't have long until he passed out.

As he put his clothes over his suit and put his shoes and socks on, his mind was left to whirl.

He knew that his school was much closer than home, and there was no chance of him walking all the way to his house. He could take a taxi — but then the police flooded into his mind.

They were still searching for him, and they probably wouldn't stop for a while, knowing their stubbornness. How long could he stand on the sidewalk, waiting for a taxi, before the police noticed the symptoms of his current sickness that they were no doubt looking for in people in order to find him.

He groaned and put a hand to his forehead, both at his predicament and the fact that it was getting harder to think with the pounding of his head.

Peter supposed he could just stay in an alley or on a rooftop all day until his sickness wore off… but what if the police found him? He was pretty sure he was going to pass out soon, and even if he didn't lose consciousness, he would be unable to do anything. And he was sure he wouldn't be able to move a distance far enough that could be considered safe. The police could be pretty thorough.

The only thing that he could do — the only thing that made sense to him at the moment — was to go to the school. It was barely a block away, and hardly any one there but Gwen questioned him about the bruises always on his face. Hopefully, he could wear his hood up all day and no one would ask.

Or he could just hide in the janitor's closet.

By the time that final thought had crossed his mind, all of his clothes were on. He stuffed the gloves, shoes, and mask of his suit into his coat pocket as per usual, and, as fast as he could (which was still rather slow), zipped his backpack back up.

He moved down the fire escape, not trusting himself to be able to jump off of the roof or slide down the side of the building.

The superhero put his hood up to hide his sweaty and red face and started the long trek towards his school.

Peter was honestly surprised when he stood in front of his school. He had passed by the large amount of officers in the area, and they had been oblivious to him. The large quivers that racked his body should have revealed him, but they hadn't. He had never been more thankful of his overly large hoody than in that moment.

He pushed the front doors open with more effort than normal and entered the school.

There weren't too many people here. Confused, he checked the time; there was still fifteen minutes before class started. He was so happy he had left early. He had more time than he originally thought to figure things out and find Gwen.

Which wasn't so hard considering she always came early, and they had the same first class. Peter saw her when he walked into the hallway that had both of their lockers and their first class. She looked to be organizing her locker, but she instantly turned to face him (Peter always teased that she had a sense just for him like he had his spider-sense).

A smile flashed across her face before it was replaced by creased eyebrows and then a worried frown.

"Peter!" Gwen rushed over, "What's wrong!? What happened!?" She didn't give him time to answer and instead pushed her hand onto his hooded forehead. She gasped and pulled her hand away, "You're burning up! But you don't get sick…?"

He nodded his head, confirming her unasked question. He opened his mouth to speak but what came out instead was a harsh coughing fit. His lungs burned.

Gwen had moved to his side and was rubbing his back soothingly. It was clear from her face she was unsure of what to do. Peter gave another try at speaking. He didn't burst into coughs, but it was still hard to talk around his heavy and frequent breaths. "Police shot me… with a… dart."

His girlfriend gasped; her fury apparent. "We need to get you to the hospital."

Peter rapidly shook his head which brought a groan from the pain it caused. It spread across his body like wildfire and from the havoc it wrecked, a strong tingling sensation was left.

"They're looking... for me… they'll know."

"Ok… ok… Home?"

Peter was about to shake his head again and say that his house was too far when another problem he hadn't thought of came to mind. If the police were desperate enough, they could bring this to the media, and tell people to look out for people with his symptoms. If he went home… Aunt May would know.

Peter shook his head with newfound energy, "No… Aunt May… would know."

Gwen looked skeptical, "Peter, isn't you being safe more important than Aunt May knowing?"

Peter looked straight into her eyes and with complete certainty said, "Gwen… Aunt May can't know." He shook his head again even though it brought a new burst of pain. The thought of his beloved Aunt finding out what he did in his spare time… He could never do that to her. "She can't."

Gwen sighed. It was clear she didn't agree with him, but she nodded to him anyway. God, he loved her.

"How about school? Were you just planning to go through the day?" Peter managed to sheepishly grimace and shrug. Gwen fondly groaned at his antics and, despite the situation, lightly smiled.

"Janitor's closet?" He rasped out.

His girlfriend frowned in thought. She shook her head. "What if the police look for you all day? You'll be stuck in there unless we can find some way to get you out without giving you away to the other students. And if the janitor comes and finds you…" Peter's face mimicked hers, though his was contorted from pain.

"Dump— " he coughed mid-sentence and swallowed. The whole motion burned his throat.

Gwen's head turned in a no, knowing what he was suggesting. "We're not going to put you in a dumpster, Peter."

Peter grimly smiled, "I've been in worse."

Though Gwen appeared disgusted and concerned from that statement, she pushed on. "Any other ideas?" He shook his head. Gwen worried at her lip, a sign that she probably had an idea — one that was likely to be a last resort. He raised a brow expectantly. She took the cue, "I actually think you should go to class." His surprise must have shown because she hastily continued. "But just our first class! By then, the police might go to other parts of the city. You can call in sick and ride a taxi to my house. No one will be home right now, and you can sleep until then."

The plan didn't sound too shabby, and even if it was, it was really their only option. But what about — "Class?"

Expecting the question, she nodded and elaborated. "You can sit in the back corner, and I'll cover for you if Mrs. Davis asks any questions." It sounded solid. Mrs. Davis, their english teacher for first hour, was pretty lenient. If he told her he wasn't feeling well, she wouldn't pressure him, and she would be fine with Gwen answering most of the questions aimed at the class.

Peter weakly raised a hand and swept it in the direction of their class, one way of telling her to go ahead and lead the way.

She smiled, "Alright, but first we need to get you fixed up." With that, she raised a hand and, with the long sleeve of her shirt, wiped the overabundant sweat off of his face. His raised body temperature leaked off of his skin and trespassed the fabric of Gwen's wrist. He felt like a furnace.

As time passed, his face wasn't as slicked with sweat as before, but the sleeve of Gwen's shirt was growing damp. She didn't look grossed out. If anything, she looked more and more worried.

"Oh, Pete," Gwen whispered worriedly. Her face looked close to tears, "How could they do this?" She rhetorically asked, thinking of the kind men who had worked with her father and how they had shot her innocent boyfriend.

Peter chastely kissed her nose and put his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. "I'm fine." He swallowed, "I'll be fine."

Though it still held a lot of weight, her smile was happy and light. Gwen caressed his face and would've kissed him if it weren't for the increasing volume of student's voices and footsteps. She pulled out a phone to check the time; they had seven minutes before class started. She tugged him towards their class, "C'mon. We need to make sure you get the seat in the back."

He stumbled a bit and clenched the strap of his backpack tightly. He hoped his bad Parker luck would leave him alone for a day and that things would, for once, turn out okay. And then he figured that he probably just jinxed himself.

They easily got the seat they wanted since few other people were there. Peter sat at the desk in the far corner of the room opposite of the large rectangular windows. That way, less light shined onto his sickly face. Gwen sat directly in front of him.

Peter delicately leaned against the back of his chair but was careful to keep his hooded head down as to not show too much of his face.

People quickly filled into the class. After an entire year, Peter was no longer surprised to have Flash sit into the seat next to him. He was far used to his old-bully being nice to him, but it was still bizarre.

"Hey Parker," Flash greeted him, turning his body as he did to show his red Spider-man shirt.

Concern filtered onto Flash's face as he took in Peter's ghastly appearance. "Are you okay?"

Even if he wanted to respond, Peter probably wouldn't be able to because of his scorching throat and the fact that Flash had just asked him if he was okay. He was used to the once-bully sitting next to him and being nice, but asking him if he was okay was another story.

Luckily, Gwen covered for him. "He's just feeling a little under the weather."

"A little!?" The bell thankfully chose to rang then and their thirty-two year old teacher walked into the room. She was of course wearing her usual tennis shoes, jeans, blouse, and glasses.

She gave them a cheerful good morning and settled behind her desk as she, and the rest of the students, waited for the usual morning announcements.

When a minute passed, Mrs. Davis stood up. "Let's just assume that there are no announcements today, so —" there was click from the loudspeakers up near the ceiling. "Never mind then," Mrs. Davis muttered.

There was a pause before the principal's voice came through the speakers, surprising them both with his appearance and his reluctant tone.

"Please excuse us for the interruption. It was… reported that Spider-man —" Peter and Gwen stiffened "—was shot with a dart approximately twenty five minutes ago in this general area. Authorities have requested to do a search of the school for people with the following symptoms: harsh coughing, excessive sweating, shallow breathing, abnormally pale skin, dizziness, and a high fever. If anyone, staff member or student, see any of the symptoms, they are asked to call the office. Policemen will also be inspecting the classrooms. They will start at the 1000's hallway and work their way up to the 2000's hall. Thank you." The last few words sounded forced.

There was a click as the announcement ended.

Peter's heart was thundering in his chest. How desperate were they?

"Oh god…" Gwen whispered in dread. She turned around to face him; the emotions on her face spoke a thousand words. "What do we do?" She whispered in a volume only he could hear. His wide eyes and rapid breaths answered her enough.

A sharp bark of laughter cut into the silence of the room. Automatically, everyone's eyes flitted to the jockey in the front row. Peter instantly recognized him as Jordan. He had used to be one of Flash's friends — key word being used. He and the bully-turned-friend had separated when Flash had decided to be stop bullying.

"There is no way—" Jordan continued with a shake of his head that caused the curly hair on it to bounce —"that Spider-man is here at the school. Well, if there was anyone as cool as me." Peter scowled; his irritation almost made him forget about his predicament. Almost.

Jordan turned in his seat, as if he was expecting the whole class to be bobbing their heads in agreement.

But he froze mid-turn. Because his eyes had landed on Peter.

Peter stiffened. The sweat dripping down his body tripled, not because of the sickness invading his system, but because someone had noticed him and the symptoms he happened to have.

Jordan stared at him and he glared back, daring him to say something. He knew though, that Jordan's abrupt lack of continuing his self-praise would cause people to look. He prepared himself.

It didn't take too long. One person turned to look at what Jordan was staring at, and it caused a chain reaction. One by one, people looked at him, taking in his overabundant sweat, breathing patterns, pale skin, and trembling that escalated by the second.

And Peter tried to hold it in, he really did, but he couldn't help it when the harsh itching of his throat grew to be too much, and a cough that turned into a fit escaped him.

If his appearance hadn't been enough, that certainly was.

The room was deathly still.

Peter's mind was flailing with thoughts. Should he try to talk his way out of this? Should he wait for the cops to come and fight his way out—? Maybe even go peacefully? Should he jump out the window—

The silence of the room and his struggling thoughts promptly shattered with the movement of his teacher.

Peter brought shaky eyes up to see Mrs. Davis; her face a mess of emotions.

Please don't read the Daily Bugle—

"Peter?" Her voice was oh so quiet, but it carried across the room and it wrecked its way through Peter's spirit. His breaths quickened. He tried to tell himself to calm down but it wasn't working. He could only wait in pained trepidation. Peter doubted that he could move even if he absolutely had to.

Thousands of emotions fluttered across Mrs. Davis's face. It felt like hours until they finally solidified into one: determination. Peter only had time to blink once before she held out a hand.

Confused he looked up at her. "Wha—?"

"Now is not the time for questions, Mr. Parker," she pointedly looked down at her hand. "Now, if you could please stand."

Peter quickly took her limb and stood. He tried to do so on his own, but he ended up mostly using her weight to pull himself up.

At the motion, vertigo hit him like a freight train and his vision blurred. He couldn't help but groan. He put his hands on his desk to steady himself, but he still felt himself swaying.

When his legs were about to fail him, something pressed itself against his side and went under his arm. Peter forced himself to open his eyes — no matter how much the light was starting to burn them. Gwen was there, giving him a beaming smile that was aimed to their teacher once his eyes had opened.

"Mrs. Davis, thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," she chided and briskly walked over to one of the many tall cupboards in the back of the room. She opened one. It had shelves on one side, but the other side was bare and held only a broom.
Swiftly, she took the object out and deftly threw it behind the couch in the corner of her room.

She gently pushed Peter inside of it. Good thing he was flexible or he probably wouldn't of fit in the cramped space. He sat down to the best of his ability. Mrs. Davis walked to her desk to grab a key; Gwen walked to Peter's chair and grabbed his backpack.

His girlfriend bent down and handed him his bag, kissing his nose. Gwen stood up and sniffed; her worry was catching up to her again. He would've comforted her if not for the people in the background and his increasing condition; it felt like weights were being pressed against his lungs now.

Mrs. Davis smiled reassuringly at him, "Just sit tight. I'll let you out as soon as I can."

As she started to close the door, Peter peered around her and looked at the students whom he had grown up with for most of his life. Their faces surprised him.

They had the typical emotions he would've expected from a situation like this — astonishment and disbelief — but he saw something he wouldn't have expected flit over a couple faces. Awe.

But then the door closed and he was left in the darkness of the closest and the silence of his classmates.

He was grateful for his teacher's actions, truly, but if the others blabbed, then it would've all been for naught.

Peter focused on keeping his rapid breaths slow and even. He waited.

And far too soon, he heard a knock on the classroom's door.

Gwen's palms were covered with sweat. It was so challenging to convince herself that the liquid on her skin was from Peter and that it wasn't coming from herself. The many different possible scenarios that drifted through her head made her heart beat rise. With each outcome she conjured, she became more worried for Peter's sake.

She could only imagine how Peter felt.

So for him, she had to be calm. Forcing herself to sit in her desk, she placed her hands on her lap and took a couple deep breaths. Her eyes settled on the entrance to the room.

She barely managed to contain a flinch when a knock echoed from the door; the rest of the class jumped.

Light sweat dripped from the teacher's forehead as she opened the door.

"Thank you," a gruff voice sounded from behind the doorway. It was familiar to Gwen. She didn't have much time to think about it before the police officer came into the class. His closely shaven brown hair and brown eyes was a welcoming sight.

"Officer Forbes?" She tried to squash the relief that instantly filled her. He had been a long time friend of her dad, and therefore, the entire family but, sadly, that fact wouldn't be enough to prevent him from doing his job in arresting Spider-man. Though he had never been a avid hater of the vigilante…

"Miss Stacy!" He greeted her with a smile. Closing the door behind him, he walked over to her.

Gwen stood, willingly using the action as a conduit for her frantic emotions. She caught a glimpse of the bewildered faces of her classmates and contained a smile. "I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been? Is your family doing well?"

She nodded, though the motion was shaky. "We've been doing as well as we can."

"That's good." He paused, "I'm sorry I haven't visited your family Gwen."

She was quick to interrupt, "No, it's fine. I'm sure you've been busy." Within such a small time period, two new chiefs had already been picked after her dad. Repairing the city had been tedious and time-consuming for the first replacement, but when the latest chief had come in, the whole system had seemed to change to focus on Spider-man. The havoc the Lizard had created already forgotten.

Officer Forbes snorted, "No kidding… But I may not be as busy anymore."

Gwen's curiosity peaked, "What do you mean?"

"I'm thinking about retiring."

"What! Why?"

He sighed, "I don't mean to startle anyone," he looked at each face in the room, hesitating. "But I think the police system may be corrupt." Gasps shot out from the room; Gwen's was stifled. She had a sinking suspicion of what he was about to say. She had had her own similar thoughts.

Nonetheless, she asked, "How come?"

The look in his eyes was grim. "Besides the fact that the new chief became the head honcho through… unorthodox means, he keeps getting new equipment from who knows where. Like the darts that were used on Spider-man, no one knows where they came from. And all the new equipment seems to be specifically made for Spider-man." Gwen paled drastically. "When someone finally confronted him, the guy was immediately fired."

It was worse than Gwen thought. "What do you mean by unorthodox means?"

The police officer took a deep breath, "You didn't hear this from me, but he used bribery." Gwen's eyes widened. Bribing a Police Station? Her thoughts must have translated onto her face because he nodded, his anger clear. "He just came in with more money than one could count." He humorlessly laughed, "He even said he had more. Next thing I knew, Chief DeWolff was pushed out of her position, and Smerdyakov was made chief. No one can lay a finger on him." Officer Forbes's face wrinkled, and he crossed his arms. After a moment, he sighed. The sound was long and drawn.

"Sounds Russian," one of students randomly commented. The blonde didn't know who.

"It is," the officer confirmed.

Gwen swallowed, unsure if she could comprehend all that information. The looks on her classmate's faces told her they felt the same and more. The stiffness of their postures suddenly reminded her of why they were uneasy with the policeman that stood before her.

"Officer Forbes?" He looked up at the straight A student, "Why are you telling us this?" It seemed so careless of a police officer to say this to group of high schoolers after all.

He softly smiled, "People need to know Miss Stacy. It could make a big difference, no matter are young they are." His right eye closed in a wink, "Just look at your boyfriend."

Was he saying what she thought he was saying? But how did he-? Gwen abruptly recalled her dad saying a little before his death, "Your boyfriend is a man with many masks, I get it. Now get in the car." Officer Forbes had been nearby, waiting for Gwen to enter her dad's car when the deceased chief had said that.

"I refuse to stand by a corrupted system that targets an innocent man," the officer's voice called her back to reality. "And the public shouldn't have to either." The sound of static cut into everyone's thoughts, and their eyes drifted down to the walkie talkie on the man's waist.

"Your room clear, Forbes?"

The official lifted the device from his belt, pressed a button on the top, and spoke into it. "Checked the room. It's clear. Moving onto the next one." No one could question his blatant lie as he moved back towards the door. "It was nice to finally talk with you Miss Stacy," he called over his shoulder. Before Gwen could reply, he had reached the entrance of the room, but instead of opening it, he spun on his heel to face the class. "Per protocol, I'm supposed to ask you guys to keep a lookout for Spider-man and to contact the authorities if you do see him. But as a human being, I'd asked you to keep quiet." A knowing look passed through his eyes, and the teenagers that were able to catch it winced, wondering if they had been that obvious.

With a lift of his blue cap, he gave a courteous, "Have a good day." Then he was gone. The door shut, and the students were suddenly left with their thoughts and the awareness of the being in the closet.

Important-ish: I don't know if the police officer thing is accurate, like if an officer would actually talk about that so openly, but it sort just fit itself in there, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized it does have significance to the plot. I just don't know if that's the right way to go about it, so hopefully that part seemed realistic enough.

I've had this story idea for such a long time, and I hoped I didn't let myself down on this.

Thanks so much guys for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it!

Until next time ;)