A/N: Here's chapter seven! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: Don't own it, sadly. Just the plot.

Seven

First period.

Mr. Harrington's class.

The worst period of the day, for one reason.

He was going to explain everything in that class.

Peter told Ned to go in without him, and when he was sure everyone had entered without noticing him hiding outside, Peter took a deep breath and readied himself for what he was about to do.

He left his hiding spot and walked through the door.

The room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and Peter looked over the top of his glasses to see his class staring at him, astounded.

"Hey, guys," Peter said, shutting and locking the door to the classroom.

"Peter, could you please unlock the door?" Mr. Harrington asked kindly.

Peter turned to his teacher and gave him a small smile.

"This is going to be a conversation I'd really rather no one else hear, sir," he said. "If you don't mind…"

Mr. Harrington nodded.

"I see," he said, and sat down. "Well, Peter, as I'm sure you know, we've all been wondering…"

"What happened yesterday?" Peter finished, and Mr. Harrington nodded again.

"Who are you?" Betty asked again, and Ned nodded.

Peter slowly pulled his glasses off and hung them from the front of his shirt. His tags were hidden under said shirt, and he pulled them out and let them hand free.

"I had this conversation last night with the Avengers," he bagan, "and it went… okay, I suppose. I told them this when they assumed that everything they knew about me was fake- I am still the same Peter Parker you've always known. I'm just…"

"A secret government agent," MJ finished.

Peter nodded.

"Exactly," he said. "As I said yesterday, I'm an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Abe raised his hand, and Peter raised an eyebrow at him and nodded.

"What exactly does that entail?" he asked. "Are you a spy? Like, James Bond level? Because that would be so cool."

Peter chuckled, and ran a hand through his hair.

"So," he said, his eyes twinkling, "what I do is kind of complicated. Yes, I'm a spy, and I go undercover on ops and missions, but that's not all. I'm a Sergeant, which means that I give orders when needed while simultaneously following my own. I'm a Detective, which means that I'll be assigned to a case and I have to, to make a long explanation short, 'figure it out.' I'm also a Supervising Officer, or an S.O., which means if there's a new member joining my team or S.H.I.E.L.D. in general, I or one of the other S.O.'s is tasked with training that person for field work. I'm a combat specialist, which means I'm especially good at hand to hand combat. I'm the person they send in first, to get rid of most of the bad guys before the rest of my team goes in- and before you ask, it's usually because I volunteer before anyone else can that I go in before them. My team's leader, Phil Coulson, tells me I'm a reckless time bomb with a death wish, and I honestly can't argue because I'm always willing to put my life on the line to get the job done."
Cindy raised her hand, and Peter laughed to himself- he felt like a teacher.

"Yeah, Cindy?"

The girl put her hand down.

"I second Abe's question, are you like James Bond? Do you shoot a gun? What level agent are you? How long have you been doing this? And, are you, like, an assassin or something? You said 'get rid of the bad guys.'"

Peter cleared his throat.

"...In a sense, yes, I'm like James Bond. And yes, I shoot a gun. I'm a Level Eight agent, and there are nine levels. I've been doing this for two and a half years."

There was silence for a moment, and the class shared a look.

"You didn't answer her last question."

Oh. That. Well, Peter supposed, there was really no harm in answering honestly.

Peter met Ned's eyes across the room as he answered.

"I've got a lot of red in my ledger. Enough to rival Natasha Romanoff herself. But I'm not an assassin, even though some people might say that I am. When I kill, I do it because I've come to the conclusion that, one, the person can't be stopped any other way, two, I have no choice, or three… accidents. I might be a high level agent, but I still make mistakes, and I'm not perfect. And everytime I fail to save someone? You couldn't possibly imagine the kind of guilt I feel when that happens. And the people I kill- they aren't good people. Some of them are absolutely, horrifyingly disgusting excuses for human beings, and, if I'm being honest, those are the kind of people whose lives I don't really mind ending. I still feel horrible about it, but it hurts a little less knowing that by killing one person, I'm saving hundreds of others. So no, Cindy, I am not an assassin."

There was, once again, silence for several seconds. Peter was beginning to grow uncomfortable when Ned spoke up.

"Do you get to kill aliens?"

Peter laughed along with everyone else, and sent him a grateful smile.

"Actually," he said, leaning back against the wall, "I do that more than you'd think. You wouldn't believe some of the guys that come down here thinking they can take over the planet with a snap of their fingers."

After that, the questions were simple and fun to answer. When Abe asked to see his gun, however, Peter promptly told him no, he didn't want anyone getting hurt, to which Abe nodded understandingly. There was one question, however, that caught him off guard.

"Does your Aunt know that you're a secret agent?"

MJ had asked that one, her eyes filled with concern for her friend.

Peter hesitated, and Mr. Harrington seemed interested in the answer as well as everyone else.

"Um," he stuttered, hoping he wouldn't reveal his other secret identity, "no. Not… exactly. She knows… somewhat of what my job entails, but she has no idea that I'm a secret agent."

"He's hiding something."

Peter whipped his head around to look at Flash, who was slouching in his seat and studying his fingers with feigned interest.

"Excuse me?" Peter asked, through a fake smile that everyone saw through.

Flash looked up, his eyes flashing with indignance.

"I said," he repeated, "you're hiding something. I can tell. You sound worried."

Peter's Spidey Sense started to tingle warningly. His finger twitched, and he hoped no one noticed that he switched to a slightly defensive stance.

They did.

"I'm not hiding anything, Eugene," he lied, using Flash's real name. "There are some things I'm legally required to keep a secret, so-"

"That's not it," Flash pressed, ignoring the use of his real name. "You said she knows 'somewhat of what your job entails,' but she doesn't know you're a secret agent?"

Peter looked at Ned and MJ for help, but he saw that they looked just as concerned as he felt.

"Okay," Peter sighed. "There's another part to my job, but I'm afraid-"

"No, Flash is right!" Betty suddenly exclaimed. "Yesterday, Ned said he was used to your 'crazy nightly escapades as a vigilante'!"

Peter took a step back. His Spidey Sense was going haywire.

"There are some things I am not inclined to reveal," he said through clenched teeth.

But his class wasn't listening. They were all simply staring at him, realization dawning on their faces.

"I've only ever heard of one vigilante that goes out at night," Abe whispered.

In unison, the class all looked at each other, the at Peter, and said,

"Spiderman."