Peter stood beside Ned in the very back of the group in gym class, practically vibrating with nervous energy.
"Dude, I don't see the big deal. It's just some lame self-defense lecture. You could do this stuff in your sleep," Ned whispered.
He couldn't figure out why Peter was freaking out so much.
"That's the problem! I can do this stuff in my sleep," Peter hissed, resisting the urge to flail his arms in despondence.
"So, why-"
"Because I can't just turn it off, Ned!"
He winced when a few people in front of them turned to see what all the noise was about.
"I can't just turn it off. Not only does the- the thing tell me when something is coming, I've got years of combat training and action under my belt and my body does what it wants. It takes every ounce of my concentration to let Flash actually put his hands on me and let the shit he throws hit me," Peter explained, dropping his voice to a barely there whisper.
"Just do the same thing here then."
"I'm only able to do it with Flash because I don't see him as an actual threat. This is a legit self-defense instructor," Peter paused to look at the man standing at the front of the group, rambling on about his credentials and what he was there to teach.
He had introduced himself as Mr. Reagan, and he was relatively large, not as bulky as Captain America or the Winter Solider, but Peter could tell there was some muscle under the sweatshirt the man was wearing. He wasn't that old either, maybe in his late 30s.
Peter couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the man didn't sit right with him. His Spidey- Senses had been a low buzz in the back of his mind since he walked into the room. There wasn't enough to raise any sort of alarm, but it was enough to set him on edge. He just chalked it up to Reagan's unfamiliarity and experience in fighting.
He debated on telling Ned, but he didn't want to raise any unnecessary alarm. There was still the off chance that he was just still burning off the aftereffects of his last mission with the Avengers.
"Yeah, but no matter who it is, you could take him down if you really wanted to," Ned said.
Peter only shrugged in response and resigned himself to listening in to the last part of the instructor's speech.
"In saying all of that, I'm basically just going to be running few a quick escape tactics, blocks, and holds with you guys, and if you guys do well, I'll consider some offensive techniques too. How does that sound?" Reagan said with a grin that was all teeth.
Cheers broke out from the students, causing Peter to flinch at the sudden assault on his ears. Even Ned seemed excited at the idea.
Reagan started calling on students to demonstrate stances and defense techniques. He went over them in such detail that Peter felt like slamming his head into the nearest wall. Not everyone got to train with Earth's Greatest Defenders, but he was convinced this dude was just patronizing them.
After his final demonstration on how to get out of a chokehold, he clapped his hands together and smiled.
"Excellent job, volunteers! Thank you! Now, I'm going to call each of you up one by one, and we're going to try it for real. Everyone go ahead and form a single- file line for me."
The students all rushed to comply, everyone wanting to be the first one to go.
Peter made a point to take the back of the line.
Ned shot him a sheepish smile when he wiggled his way in further up the line.
"Traitor," Peter muttered, even though he couldn't really blame his excitement.
"Sorry," Ned mouthed in response before turning to watch the first student try out the moves.
Peter watched the instructor more than he watched his classmates. The man was very obviously pulling his punches and slowing them down to where anyone could block them. The holds were loose enough where gentle pressure could bust through them. He knew by the looks on each passing teenager that they had a serious confidence boost from their success.
Of course had to Flash strut off the mat like he was the next Captain America.
After what felt like hours, they were finally getting toward the end of the line. Peter felt a sharp reminder from his senses as he got closer to Reagan.
"Has no one in here really had a self-defense class before this?" He asked as the second to last student stepped off the mat.
People started shaking their heads no, but Flash took the opportunity to speak up.
"Parker has! He's said that he's taken them before," he jeered, pointing at Peter and earning a few laughs from his friends.
Peter had never mentioned anything of the sort, but he could only guess it was Flash's way of trying to humiliate him.
In any other situation, he would have laughed at the irony of it all.
"Is that so? Good thing you're next then. Why don't you show me what you've got, son?"
Peter bristled at the nickname, and the gleam in the man's eye set him on edge.
He hesitantly walked up to the giant blue foam mat and subconsciously shifted his feet to a subtle fighting stance.
Reagan took notice and raised an eyebrow. He started circling the teen.
That was new. He didn't do that with any of the other students.
Peter didn't move an inch, didn't even turn his head, but he was aware of each step the man took.
"How many years have you taken lessons?"
"I- uh, well- nothing too crazy. Maybe like a year or two," he stuttered, mentally kicking himself for going with Flash's lie.
He'd had fleeting thought that maybe if he 'admitted' that he'd had no formal training, then Reagan would stop and treat him like every other student.
"Not bad," he hummed.
The man shifted his stance in a way that was supposed to be discreet, but Peter saw it coming from a mile away. He knew what was coming next.
Reagan threw a punch that was definitely faster than what he had been sending earlier.
Peter blocked it with his forearm like it was second nature. He couldn't have stopped himself if he tried, not with how keyed up his Spidey-Sense was.
"Good," Reagan said with a smirk.
The man swiftly brought his knee up in the direction of Peter's midriff, an area that looked like it was unguarded, but Peter dropped his other hand to catch it mid attack.
He tried to pretend that he couldn't hear the confused murmuring of his gym class behind him.
"He didn't teach us that," Abe breathed.
Flash scoffed and folded his arms across his chest.
"Come on. That's easy. I could stop that any day," he said with a haughty tone.
Reagan took a step back and raked his eyes over Peter, assessing him more closely.
The instructor suddenly lunged forward, swinging his fist directly at the teen's temple with legitimate force, earning gasps from a few of the on-lookers.
Peter ducked under it instinctually.
"That was a little much for some high schoolers. Don't you think?" he said, eyeing Reagan warily.
"Something tells me you can handle it."
The sleezy grin the instructor sent him was enough to send a strike of discomfort down his spine and up his neck.
If the next kick Reagan aimed at his ribs was anything to go by, the man was at the very least enhanced. It moved faster and with more force than a normal human could have pulled off.
Peter leaped back, light on the balls of his feet.
"Come on. Enough dancing around. Fight me," Reagan snarled.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather we just move on, sir," Peter said, angling his body away from his peers.
He had a bad feeling about this, and the last thing he wanted was for something to happen to the concerned looking teenagers behind him.
Peter had the fleeting question of where his gym teacher went, but he figured that one man wasn't going to able to get a handle on what was about to happen.
"We'll move on when you're done pretending that you're something that you're not. Stop holding back."
Peter faltered slightly. There was no way this man knew his secret. He didn't even know this guy.
"I- What? No, I- Hey! Watch it!" Peter snapped.
He had barely side-stepped the lunge forward. Reagan had deemed it a good time to play off of Peter's confusion and catch him off guard.
"You're not fighting me," he teased in a sing-song voice, sending a flurry of attacks that Peter just kept dodging.
"I- I don't fight."
"Fine then. Since you want to keep lying to my face like the ungrateful brat that you are, I'll just have to try a new tactic."
The other students were shifting uncomfortably, unsure of how to handle the situation in front of them. Their gym teacher had stepped out prior to the demonstration, leaving the class alone with essentially a stranger.
Reagan pulled knife out of a sheath that Peter hadn't even seen, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world for missing it.
The class broke out into screams, and they tried to get up and run, only to find that both sets of exit doors were locked. They were trapped in with a lunatic with no way out.
The man laughed, the noise teetering on deranged.
"Why are you doing this?" Peter asked, holding his hands up in a placating manner.
He knew he had to gain control over the situation. He wouldn't let anyone get hurt. It wasn't an option.
Peter just hoped that he could stall long enough for a faculty member to catch wind of what had happened and alert the authorities before he lost the secrecy of his identity.
"All you superheroes do is lie. You lie to your friends, your family, and the people you save," he spat the last word out like it was poisonous. "But worst of all, you lie to yourselves every single day. So, I'm here to expose every last one of the Avenger's lies, and what better way than to start with Spiderman. A high schooler. Pathetic."
"I- I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not Spiderman," Peter said, stumbling over his words in his shock.
"See what I mean?" Reagan said, gesturing wildly at Peter with the blade. "Lies."
"Mr. Reagan, I'm just some kid from Queens that's taken a few self-defense classes. I really don't think that Spiderman is some random high schooler in a STEM school. So, can we just put the knife away and move on? Our next class is starting soon, and we don't want to be late," he said slowly, forcing himself to move into a less intimidating stance.
There was silence for a moment as everyone listened with bated breath to see what Reagan would say.
He slid the knife back into the sheath and let his shoulders drop. The students sighed in relief, and some even broke out into tears.
Peter didn't trust the look in his eyes, not even for a second.
"I suppose you're right, kid. Let me just gather my things over there, and I'll let you all out, yeah?"
A few of his classmates thanked him shakily, but Peter repositioned himself in front of the group crowded by the door. He knew it wasn't over that easy. It never was.
Reagan took a slow stroll over to the bleachers on the other side of the room and made a show of rummaging through his things. It took seconds for his body language to change and he was wrenching the bleachers from their spot on the gym wall and holding them above his head.
Peter felt his jaw drop. Definitely enhanced.
The screaming was so loud and frantic, but he forced himself to drown it out.
"Nice try, Parker. I know everything about you. I know that you're not just some kid. I know that you're Stark's protégé and lap dog, and that you're the masked vigilante that swings around New York at all hours of the night. You're so easy, so predictable. It all comes down to you now. Are you going to keep up your lie and be the reason your friends get crushed under two tons of wood and steel, or are you going to prove exactly what kind of person you are? A good-for-nothing liar."
Reagan launched the structure with such an ease that showed whatever he had been enhanced with was no joke.
Peter felt time slow down around him. He was going to be found out. Everyone was going to know that he was Spiderman because Reagan was right. If he didn't act, his friends would die, and it would be his fault.
He made his decision instantaneously. It wasn't even a real choice. If it came down to his secret identity and saving innocent people, he knew what he would choose every time.
Peter leaped upwards and caught the giant, flying projectile, the momentum of it causing him to slide back a few feet on the smooth floor as he landed. He was easily ten feet from his class.
That was close. Too close.
All of the screaming stopped as everyone froze to stare in awe at someone that they had seen struggle to lift 30 pounds catch a full set of gymnasium bleachers without so much as a grunt.
In Peter's defense, this was nothing compared to a building.
Reagan had a twisted smile on his face. "I knew it," he hissed.
Peter growled as blood ran hot in his veins. No more Mr. Nice Spider.
The teen's whole demeanor changed. He leveled his unimpressed stare at the man and set the bleachers down off to the side with one arm.
Rolling his shoulders back and holding his chin high, he tapped the button on the side of his watch and smirked at the nanotechnology encased him in the Iron Spider suit.
Murmurs broke out behind him.
"Oh my God."
"There's no way-"
"Peter has been Spiderman this whole time?" "That's my best friend!"
Ned's outcry forced a chuckle out of the hero.
"You wanted Spiderman? Congratulations. You've got him," he drawled, his smirk audible through the mask.
"Karen be a dear and contact the authorities. Let them know that I'll have someone webbed up and waiting for them when they get here."
"Of course, Peter. I'd also like to inform you that Mr. Stark has been alerted of your use of the suit during school hours as per the Baby Monitor Protocol."
Peter heaved a sigh. That would be something he would have to deal with when it came. Right now, his focus was on the rapidly advancing, knife-wielding attacker.
He twisted and kicked the bleachers into Reagan, sending both him and structure flying back into the concrete wall.
"Let's get one thing straight," Peter snapped at him, advancing forward and ripping the bleachers away from him.
Reagan had a nasty cut going down the side of his face, and he bared his teeth at the teen, stumbling forward without the weight pressing him against the wall.
"You may have thought that I was going to be the easiest target, but I'm here to tell you that you are horribly mistaken. You came into my school, threatened my friends, and forced my hand. I may be Tony Stark's protégé, but I am not his lap dog. Believe me when I tell you that you will never see the light of day again, and it won't be because of him. It'll be because of me."
The venom that danced off his tongue was so similar to the way that his mentor and father-figure spoke that he could have laughed at himself. Maybe Tony was rubbing off on him like everyone said.
Reagan took Peter's threat as his opportunity to try and plunge the blade into the teen's abdomen, but Peter saw it coming.
He grabbed the man's arm and twisted it in such an unnatural way that even across the room, the others could hear the bones cracking.
Reagan shouted in agony.
Peter slammed him into the ground and webbed him where he landed. The only thing visible was his blotchy, red face.
Moments later, the doors slammed open revealing an Iron Man suit standing menacingly, repulsor gauntlets charged and raised.
Peter just snorted.
"I thought we talked about being fashionably late?" he snarked.
Tony took in the sight in front of him, Peter in front of his classmates in the suit, the man webbed the ground, and the severely damaged set of bleachers, and dematerialized his suit so he could rush over to the teen.
"What the hell happened here, Pete- Spidey?"
"It's fine. They know it's me," Peter said, letting the mask retract back into the neckline of his suit.
He glanced over to see the wide eyes of his friends and classmates.
"Peter, what happened?" Tony asked again, his eyes softening.
"We were supposed to have self-defense classes, but the school managed to hire on a guy that's hellbent on 'exposing' the Avengers. I guess he thought a high schooler would be an easy target so he threw a set of bleachers at us, forcing me to either catch it or get squished."
Tony felt his brain short circuit for a few seconds.
"He threw a- Christ, are you okay?" he asked, running his hands down Peter's arms and turning him around to assess for any damage.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Two tons is nothing," Peter said with a shrug.
"You're the reason I'm going gray, kid," Tony said, pulling him into a hug.
Peter couldn't help but laugh as he returned the embrace.
He pulled away just in time to see the others break out of their stupor and rush forward, practically vibrating with questions.
"Hey! Easy guys. I know you all have questions, and I'll answer them in a bit. I've got to deal with the authorities first. That cool?" He shouted over the noise.
There were reluctant agreements, but no one seemed to back off.
Ned managed to shoulder his way through the crowd and pulled Peter into a bone-crushing hug.
"Thank God you're alright. I know you do cool and dangerous stuff all the time, but bro, it was so scary to see those bleachers come at us, and it was even scarier to see you just catch them with like your bare hands, and that was so badass!" he rushed out in one breath.
"How do you think I feel? I get to see him jump out of collapsing towers and fist fight people that try to kill him at least twice a month," Tony snorted, shaking his head at the two.
Ned seemed to realize who he was standing next to and choked on the air in his lungs.
"Oh- oh my God. You're-"
"Ned you've met him before," Peter deadpanned.
"But it's Tony Stark!"
"The novelty kinda wears off after a few days," he winked.
Tony elbowed him in the ribs, but didn't bother wiping the smile off his face.
"I liked your hero-worshipping phase better. You've gotten too big for your spandex, Underoos."
The police came running in before Peter could retort, and he didn't bother with his mask.
Tony raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking if he knew what he was doing.
Peter shrugged and grinned.
"It was going to get out eventually."
He jogged off to where the officers had paused in the doorway so he could direct them toward the culprit. If they knew how big of a deal it was to see Spiderman without his mask, they didn't show it.
Tony turned back to the awe-struck teenagers.
"At least let the boy talk with my legal team and make an official statement before you start hounding him with questions."
The stares he got in return told him that no such thing would happen.