Hey - this was just a silly idea in my head, I have next chapter written, i'll post it soon if people seem interested :)

**Also, I haven't done maths in over a year and know nothing about concussions except what wikipedia told me, so sorry if the details are a bit rough

I do not own any part of spiderman

Drop a review if you've got some time, would love some tips!

"Peter?" Mr. Cramer called as he scanned down the class role.

No response.

He tried again, "Mr. Parker?" looking up from the student list he noticed the empty desk at the back of the classroom, he let out frustrated sigh.

He knew he shouldn't be too surprised; Peter was close to failing his 80 percent minimal attendance levels and was often absent and reliably late to class. It had been this way since his uncle's death only months ago.

It was particularly maddening, Mr. Cramer thought, that his best student, and possibly the best at the school, seemed to have changed his priorities, allowing his studies to take a back seat. Other teachers at Midtown High had noticed too and it had become a common discussion point in the staffroom.

Mr. Cramer addressed the class at large "Has anyone seen Peter today?"

A few heads turned towards the empty desk before looking back the front and shaking their heads.

Missy Kallenback spoke up from the front row, "He wasn't present in Biology this morning either"

"Right," Placing a cross next to Peters name, the teacher continued down the role and started the day's lesson.

Twenty minutes passed, before the door – unfortunately at the front of the classroom – eased open to reveal a hunched over Peter Parker in the doorway, his hood pulled low and shadowing the majority of his face.

"Ah, Mr. Parker, kind of you to join us"

The students snapped their heads up from their work to look at Peter, and within a second, the whole class had their attention on him, making him feel rather uncomfortable, drawing his hood closer and lower around his face.

Peter stared at his math teacher for a moment, as if at a loss as to what to do next. Then he blinked and shook his head before mumbling a quick 'sorry', and hurrying to his seat. He stumbled as he neared the back of the room causing a few of the kids to snicker in his direction. He sat and removed his jacket, placing it over his chair.

"What's the excuse today, Peter?" Mr. Cramer asked.

Peter sighed inwardly. An excuse. What could he say? The whole class was looking expectedly at him, teacher included. His killer headache wasn't making anything easier, not to mention the pain coming from his chest and arm. He'd definitely come off worse then the 'other guy's' in last nights fight. Or was it this morning? Why was the room so bright?

"Excuse?" Peter repeated dumbly. Woah, he hadn't even meant to say that, what was going on? And why was the whole room moving?

"Yes Peter, what excuse do you have for being so late to my class?"

Peter just shrugged, adding a non committal 'meh', "don't have one" he said tiredly, earning a few appreciative laughs from his classmates.

"Well that's too bad. Stay back after class," Mr. Cramer said with a slight edge to his voice, before adding, "and please remove your hood when indoors"

Peter didn't indicate he had even heard him, he appeared to be staring, transfixed out the window, Mr. Cramer gave up and resumed his class.

He turned back to the whiteboard, writing out a new detailed equation, which the class would decipher together.

"Alright, settle down," a hush fell over the distracted students as he turned around to face the class, "who would like to have a go at explai- Peter!" Mr. Cramer changed tack at top speed, as he noticed Peter had his face down on his desk, he sat up extremely fast and looked confusedly around the room, before his eyes settled on his teacher.

"Please try to stay awake in my class!" Mr. Cramer said, "Since, you're so interested, how about you tell us all the answer to this equation. Go on."

Peter swallowed, and turned his attention to the board, hating the feeling of everyone's eyes focused on him. He stared for a while, his headache making his mind feel sluggish and slow, but his mind dredged up the answer from somewhere deep inside the pain. "er, is it two over x, plus one half over x, squared, minus eight? Or something?" he added the last part on uncertainly

Mr. Cramer wrote down the said answer as Peter said it, before referring to his book and noticing Peter was, in fact, correct. That kid could solve any problem, he had a unique mind. "That is correct" he continued, "care to tell us how you got to that answer?"

"Not really" was the response he received and he almost smiled.

"Anyone else care to explain? Flash Thompson? Any ideas?"

Flash looked dumbstruck towards the board, and the class continued like this for the next few minutes until Mr. Cramer took pity on the floundering students and explained in detail, the problem.

That was when he noticed Peter, with his face down on the desk again and his hood over his head. He was really beginning to lose his patience.

"Parker!" Peter didn't even flinch. "I don't care what you do in your spare time, but in class, try to stay awake!"

No response.

"If my class is really that dull," he continued, "you can leave. Now." He hated to say it; he truly wanted the best for Peter.

Again, Peter didn't move. Mr. Cramer frowned.

The whole class watched as Liz Allen leant over and poked Peter in the shoulder.

No response again.

"Oi, Parker, wake up," she whispered as she gave his shoulder a slight shake.

Liz looked up and shrugged, at a loss for what to do. "I think he's dead, sir" Liz said in full seriousness.

Mr. Cramer sent a glare at the girl "Of course he's not dead!" he snapped, but he couldn't shake the worried feeling that had begun to creep up his spine. He walked to the back of the room, to Peters desk, taking a closer look at the sleeping form, removing the hood from over his face. It was only then he noticed the dark bruises forming around the visible side of his face, the swelling around his eye and the deep gash along his cheek.

"Peter?" he said, placing his hand on his shoulder, he was momentarily surprised when he felt wetness, lifting his hand to see it was covered in blood.

"Oh shit," he said, not caring the whole class was watching. He felt for a pulse, finding one. It was strong, but irregular. He looked up and around; the whole class was looking on in horror.

Shit. Shit. He didn't know what to do; he was a math teacher, not the school nurse! "Help me get him on the ground!" he said.

Flash was surprisingly fast to stand up, and together, he and Mr. Cramer got him to be lying on the floor. The whole class had stood up by now and was looking down at Peter, horrified at his state. Jessica Jones spoke up, "I think we should lay him on his side" remembering eighth grade health classes, "in case he chokes or something"

"Charlie!" Mr. Cramer called out and a head turned, "Go and get Ms. Arrow" He nodded and left the room at a run.

Jessica knelt down beside Peter, as did a few other students to turn him onto his side. She reached a hand out to his face and yelped in surprise. Peter's hand had flown up and he had clasped it over her wrist, and his eyes flew open. Even faster, he sat up, scooting backwards and hitting the wall. He looked around at the class towering over him, panting and at a complete loss to remembering how he had gotten onto the floor. His headache was worse, his chest felt worse and to top it all off he now felt nauseous and had difficulty breathing. The class was staring transfixed at his chest, Peter looked down and realized why. A red stain was blossoming along his front from the wound he had sustained last night and more spots of red were appearing as fresh wounds were re opened, showing all to easily through his grey shirt. This wasn't meant to happen! The school couldn't see Peter like this, to many awkward questions. He just wanted to sleep, couldn't they all leave him alone? Urgh, he felt so sick. His breaths were short and raspy. "Back away" Peter heard a voice say, "Peter?" who was speaking to him? It would be so much easier to see, he thought, if the room would stop swaying. Why was the room swaying? He thought he might throw up. Peter felt his eyes shut closed.

"No, Peter, try to stay awake" that voice said again, was it his teacher?

"That's it" Mr. Cramer said as Peter blearily opened his eyes. He was alarmed as he realized Peter's pupils were different sizes, one dilated larger then the other. He was even more alarmed as he saw a deep crimson liquid seep not from the gash on his cheek, but out of his nose. Peter raised a hand to his face before pulling it away, looking at his hand in astonishment

"Lets move you off the floor, come on"

Peter sat forward slightly before falling back again and closing his eyes. The swaying of the room was making him feel so sick. He leant over to his left and felt his stomach heave, but he hadn't eaten in – when was the last time he had eaten?

"Okay, okay, don't move" he heard the mans voice again, Peter happily obliged

It was at this point that Charlie returned with the school nurse, Ms. Arrow, and a first aid kit. Pushing through the students still gathered around Peter. She looked at him in shock.

"Everybody out! Now!" She said.

No one needed telling twice, as everyone immediately scuffled out the door, leaving only the two adults and Peter in the room.

"Peter?" Ms. Arrow asked, her voice much softer.

"Mmm?" was the response she got

"You've outdone yourself," She shook her head, he had been a regular in her office since his first year, as a result of many injuries caused by bullies or his own clumsiness. She knew this was more serious. "What have you done this time?"

Peter looked up at her and flashed a ridiculous smile, "can't," he said, "it's a secret" he gave a short laugh.

Mr. Cramer spoke up "Peter, this is serious"

"No, Steve, it's okay, he has no idea what he's saying" the nurse cut in, "He's disoriented - has a concussion by the looks of it - I don't think we'll get any useful information out of him for a while" She opened her first aid kit.

"Peter?" She asked, "I'm going to remove your shirt now, okay?"

Somewhere in Peter's hazed mind he registered this comment as slightly alarming, but he had no idea why. Oh god, was he wearing his suit? Shit. He felt another wave of sickness hit him.

Ms. Arrow noticed his eyes widen, "It's alright, you're okay" she soothed him.

He noticed his shirt was gone and stared down at his chest.

No spidey suit. And the webbing he'd used to hold together the slashes had dissolved too. Well that was lucky, double score. He vaguely registered another laugh forcing itself from his lips. The two teachers were looking at his front with horrified expressions.

They looked up to see Peter eyes had closed again, "Peter!" Mr. Cramer shouted - it was essential that he stayed awake, at least for now.

"Go get one of the students," Ms. Arrow said to the other man, "one that might get a response out of him"