Chapter Text
Peter was being careful. He really was. He had barely missed school the past couple of weeks. All of his assignments were being passed in on time. The only mark less than an A was on his history test. Spider-Man was doing only his typical neighbourhood activities so that Peter could focus on school.
It doesn’t need to be said that part of the reason he was trying so hard was to impress his new AP Bio teacher, Doctor Captain Ryland Grace. All his students were told to call him Mr. Grace, but that felt disrespectful. The man discovered interstellar life and saved the sun before Peter could walk.
Mr. Grace returned to earth two years ago to a great celebration. Even after the probes returned, no one thought he would survive. Instead, he came back with knowledge from the Eridians to integrate into the scientific understanding of the universe. Not that it helped too much when aliens finally got around to attacking Earth.
Then, the saviour of Earth decided the thing he wanted most in the world was to retire from the superhero lifestyle and teach high school. So he ended up as Peter Parker’s high school teacher.
But apparently, Mr. Grace did not retire completely from the Petrova Task Force because Peter was in a cell on what he is guessing is an aircraft carrier from the sounds and vibrations he can feel. And apparently, the Petrova Task Force still exists to serve humanity’s “best interests” in whatever way they see fit. They should really rebrand as Nerdy Shield.
Back to the situation at hand. Peter has been kidnapped before. He always escapes before anyone unmasks him. The problem Peter is having now is that his AP Bio teacher is running experiments to try to get the mask off while the man’s boss interrogates him.
“Dam you, Tony Stark,” Grace says. Peter probably shouldn’t be able to hear that, but superpowers.
“Anything?” Stratt asks.
“Would you just take off the mask?” Grace asks. Peter wants to. Mr. Grace is the coolest teacher ever. Even if he doesn’t know who Peter actually is in the moment, disappointing him builds pressure against Peter’s ribs.
“We are going to get this thing off, one way or another,” Stratt warns him.
Peter really does hope that Tony will hurry up and find him. He pressed the panic button a bigillion times. Even when someone knocks out Friday, that is still supposed to work.
“I am going to give you a few hours to see if you can get it off before I call in the big guns,” The woman says to Grace before leaving the room. The big, burly man standing in the corner staring him down does not go with her.
“Why do you need to know who I am anyway?” It is the first time Peter has spoken in a while.
Grace’s eyes widen a fraction as his head snaps up from a computer screen. “That is probably classified.”
Peter rolls his eyes. “Then I really need to know. Maybe if it is for a good reason, I could tell you my identity. As long as you wouldn’t tell anyone else.” This is a terrible idea, but maybe it will stall him until Mr. Stark gets here.
“Around here, everything is on a need-to-know basis, buddy.” Mr. Grace sighs. “Even the information on how to get past those little bugger that make up your fancy suit.”
And then suddenly the suit is falling away. Peter’s eyes widen now. It matches the look on Mr. Grace.
The scientist’s voice is frantic when he seems to find it again. “Carl, no one in or out.”
“Hi,” is all Peter can manage.
And then the door creaks open, and he is let into the lab.
Grace needed to get back into the classroom. Even Stratt agreed. But she still constantly asked for his help on projects, even when they had nothing to do with alien biology or teaching.
This has to be his last time on this ship because this is the worst headache he has ever had. One of his students is Spiderman. He swings across New York on webs and fights bad guys. He got punched by Captain America. His fifteen-year-old student.
“You are fifteen years old.”
“Yes.”
“And you are Spiderman.”
“Yes.”
“Are there any adults who know about this?”
“Yes.”
“And who might they be?”
“My Aunt.”
“Your Aunt funded that suit?”
“No.”
Grace gives the kid a look.
“Tony Stark gave me the suit.”
That sounds like something Tony would do. The headache gets worse.
Grace tries his best to keep his voice steady. “So the Stark internship is a cover for this.”
The kid lights up at the mention of his internship. “Not completely, I do a lot of science stuff with Mr. Stark too. He is really smart,” The kid looks down at his shoes. “The only way to keep Aunt May and me safe is if no one knows about the whole suit and superhero stuff.”
“I’m not gonna tell anyone, kiddo,” Grace says. “You have school tomorrow, so I am going to send you home to get some sleep.”
Peter shakes his head furiously. “That would make the scary woman mad at you.”
“Let the adults worry about stuff like that for once.” Grace pauses. "Also, your distress signal needs work; it was way too easy for Carl to block it."
Tony fucking Stark. Of course, it is him. He is the one who would put a kid in a suit to protect the world. That man has never thought through an idea in his life.
Stratt’s door is closed. It isn’t locked, so Grace steps right in. Her hands are moving fast. Her eyes are locked on the screen way too close to her face. The blinds are closed, so the only light is a lamp at the other side of the room.
“You are going to need glasses within six months if you get in the habit of having your screen like that.”
“Spare me the lecture,” Eva replies. “Did you figure out who the bug is.”
“Yes,” Grace says. She just looks at him expectantly. “I let him go home because he has class tomorrow morning.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she says.
“He is one of my high school students. If too many people know the identity of your favourite bug, he will be in even more danger than he already is every time he puts on the suit.”
Her hands fly over her keyboard for a moment more. “Do we have a chance of getting him out of the Avengers orbit?”
“Stark pays for all of his tech, and he seems to actually like the guy,” He replies.
“Do you have something against Tony Stark?” Eva asks him.
“We met at school, and he was an asshole,” is his reply. That should be enough info to make his reactions to Tony’s name seem normal.
“I’m sure you had something to do with his asshole.” It is mumbled under her breath so Grace can pretend he didn’t hear it. Alright, he might be a little obvious.
“Alright,” she says at conversational volume, “I’m going to put you on mission keep the kid in one piece, although I would have preferred to talk to him myself, for future reference. Don’t get into any trouble with Stark; I don’t need shield up my ass right now.”
“No promises.” And then he is on his way back to New York. He has class in the morning, too.