SIX.

SHE WAS TEARING him apart, every bone and nerve a single thread she unraveled with her bare hands.

He was screaming, but she didn't let go. She gripped his wrist and clenched her teeth. Every inch of her skin was burning with raw power, a delicious scorching pain.

"Please," he sobbed. "Please, make it stop."

His face was a shattered mirror, distorted and ugly. His eyes were open wide, fixed on something only he could see. Tears slipped down his cheeks, carving a path through the marble of his skin.

She didn't let go. Instead, she pressed her fingers into his skin harder, feeling every nerve in her body ignite—

"Will?"

She blinked.

The gray man and his screams faded away into the pale yellow walls of the classroom. Her ears were filled with the chatter of voices instead. Her heart gave a jolt as she returned to reality and Midtown High.

She looked down to see her hand curled into a tight fist. She unclenched her hand, letting her fingers fall free. Will's fingertips traveled over the skin of her wrist. A mark had appeared there overnight, a dark twisting thread beneath her skin like a lightning strike. It was as if the blood in her veins had gone bad.

She pulled her sleeve down over it.

When she looked up she found Michelle sitting across from her, eyes filled with concern.

"Uh, are you okay?" she asked, waving a hand in front of Will's face. "Did you just have a vision or something?"

Michelle's mouth opened.

"Oh my god, did you see me die? How do I die, Will?"

Will ran her tongue over her bottom lip, tasting salt. She blinked again. She felt the cold linoleum under her feet, tethering her to reality.

Michelle was still looking at her expectantly.

Will cleared her throat. "Pigeons."

"What?"

"How you die. It's pigeons. Rabid ones. Thousands of them. It's a bloodbath. They go for your eyes first, those bastards."

Michelle narrowed her eyes and huffed.

"Okay, you know that's not funny. Being afraid of pigeons is a perfectly rational fear. They're carriers of disease."

"Michelle, I already listened to your PowerPoint presentation on pigeon danger. I get it."

"They're the rats of the sky, Will! Ever heard of a little something called the avian flu, huh?"

"They're like three inches tall. Nothing that tiny is intimidating."

"Oh, is that why no one is afraid of you?"

"Low blow."

"Yeah, it'd have to be to reach you."

"Well, being taller just makes you closer to the pigeons."

Michelle smacked her arm. "Not funny!"

Will smiled a little bit. "Kind of funny."

The sound of two hands clapping together drew her gaze away. Mr. Harrington was sitting in a desk at the front of the room, pointing at the two of them.

"Hey! Michelle, you can't hit Will," he called out.

"Okay, but what if it's justified?" Michelle asked, holding up her hand.

"Doesn't matter." he answered.

"Isn't it awful that we live in a disgusting dystopian society where student on student violence isn't tolerated?" Will said sarcastically.

"Not anymore," Mr. Harrington added absentmindedly.

"Um, anymore?" Michelle asked.

His eyes went wide behind his glasses when they both looked at him. He looked left, then right rapidly.

"I've said too much," he said quickly.

Will and Michelle looked at each other.

Drugs? Will mouthed to Michelle.

She shook her head. "Worse," she leaned over to whisper. "Private education system."

Will raised an eyebrow and turned in her desk to look at Mr. Harrington again. He was sitting, talking to Peter. Peter was talking to him urgently, an apologetic expression on his face.

"Peter, it's nationals," she heard Mr. Harrington say. "Is there no way you could take one weekend off?"

"I can't go to Washington," Peter said emphatically. "If Mr. Stark needs me, I have to make sure I'm here."

From the corner of the room, Flash Thompson let out a snort. He was lounging in his desk chair, twirling a pencil in his fingers and looking at Peter with disdain.

"You've never been in the same room as Tony Stark," he scoffed.

"Wait, what's happening?" Will asked.

"Peter's not going to Washington," Mr. Harrington sighed.

"No, no, no," Abraham said, shaking his head.

"Why not?" chimed in Cindy.

"Really?" Liz said, looking at Peter. "Right before nationals?"

Decathlon was one of few things Liz shared with Will. Will had really only joined because Liz had asked her to, although she was less than stellar under pressure and had never actually competed. Unsurprisingly, Liz was captain while she was only an alternate.

"He already quit marching band," Will said to Michelle, furrowing her brows.

"Right, and robotics," she nodded in response.

"Don't forget woodshop," Will added.

They looked up to find everyone staring at them, including Peter.

"What?" Michelle protested. "We're observant."

"Nosy," Ned corrected.

"Yeah, because you and Peter are so subtle," Will said. "I'm pretty sure Michelle and I know all your secrets by now."

Peter snorted suddenly. "Doubt it," he said quietly.

"Well, we know about Ned's scoliosis," Michelle said. "Unfortunately."

"And that time with the meatloaf when Peter-"

"Yup, okay!" Peter interjected loudly. "We got it."

"Well, looks like we'll need an alternate then," Mr. Harrington said, adjusting his glasses. "Will, come here please."

Will's stomach sunk. "Um, does the please make it optional?"

"No. Get over here."

Will grimaced, and stood up reluctantly. She walked over to where Peter and Mr. Harrington were sitting. She didn't look at Peter. She could still feel the rain on her skin and the heavy weight of leaving him behind.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Harrington?" she asked.

He gestured to Peter with a pencil. "Well, since Peter's out, we need someone to cover physics. Could you do that?"

"Sure, Mr. Harrington. I could also fling myself into the sun and enjoy the sweet release of eternal extinction."

"So. . .is that a no, then?"

"Sorry, I don't think it's a good idea. I don't exactly have a great track record in physics. Or report card."

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

"How's a C sound to you?"

"Cs are great. Like vitamin C. So healthy."

Will raised an eyebrow.

"Listen, can't you just get a tutor or something?" Mr. Harrington tried. "I don't have anyone else."

"What? Just make the person you would have tutor me do it."

"Everyone else already has their subjects assigned. I'm sorry, Will. Plus, maybe a tutor will be good for you."

Will sighed. "Fine. What's the damage? Please don't say Flash."

"How about Ned?"

Will brightened. "Yeah, okay. Ned's cool. I could handle Ned."

Mr. Lewis turned around to face Ned. He waved him over. Ned obeyed, bouncing over to the three of them.

"Hey guys! What's up, Mr. Harrington?" he smiled.

"Ned! My boy! How do you feel about charity?" Mr. Harrington asked, pointing.

"Uh, it's not charity," Will interrupted.

"Right. Got it. Hey, Ned, how do you feel about getting paid to tutor Will?"

"Whoa, hey, hey. Not what I meant."

"You need a tutor?" Ned asked, turning to Will.

"My intellectual prowess in the field of physics is. . .lacking," Will explained. "I could use some help."

Ned looked at Will. Then he looked at Peter, who had picked up a book on carnivorous plants off the table and had been reading it during the time Will had been there with admirable determination. Especially considering the book was upside down.

Ned's face lit up.

"I have the perfect tutor for you," he grinned.

"Right," Will gestured at him. "It's you."

"No, no, I'm super busy. With like, uh, chores and stuff. But Peter's free."

Peter's eyes went wide. There was a thump as he dropped his book on the desk. He whipped around to face Ned.

"Um, actually, no, Peter is not free," he said in a low voice to Ned. "Peter is very busy."

"Peter is not busy at all!" Ned announced to the rest of them cheerfully.

"That's a lie! Peter would appreciate it if you didn't spread lies," he hissed.

"Peter should probably stop talking about himself in the third person," Will said.

"Yes, Peter probably should," he nodded.

Will looked at him.

"Right," he mumbled. "Sorry."

He looked at Mr. Harrington.

"I'm really busy Mr. Harrington. I don't have time for tutoring. I have—"

"The Stark internship," they all chorused, finishing his sentence.

Peter looked at them, offended.

"Listen, Peter, it sounds like the perfect arrangement to me," Mr. Harrington said. "Will needs a hand and you're our best physics candidate. It'll keep you sharp, help you practice for the next competition."

"Or," Will said. "Peter doesn't tutor me. And also I don't compete. That sounds like the perfect arrangement to me."

Peter nodded, pointing at Will. "Yes."

"How is that a perfect arrangement?" Ned asked, scrunching his nose. "That literally does not solve a single one of our problems."

"You're being unhelpful," Will said.

"Guys, Ned is right," Mr. Harrington said. "Peter, I need you to do this for me."

Peter groaned loudly.

Will looked at him, offended. "Did you just groan? It's not like he asked you to chop off a limb or something."

"No, you're right. That would've been much more preferable," Peter grumbled.

Will's eyes narrowed. "Whoa, buddy. I'm not exactly thrilled either."

"Why, because you'll actually have to look me in the eye for once and not run away every time I talk to you?"

Will turned red.

"I do not do that," she protested.

"You don't run away? Ever? Really?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Look, I'm sorry about last weekend," she sighed.

"Yeah, you're always sorry, Will, but things never actually change, do they?" he shot back.

"What do you want me to say?" she said sharply.

"This is awkward," Ned whispered to Mr. Harrington. "Should we just sit here and make no noise or do we try to get away?"

Mr. Harrington shushed him, eyes fixated on Will and Peter. "Be quiet, Ned. This is better than Downton Abbey."

Will and Peter turned to Mr. Harrington.

"Look, this obviously isn't going to work," Peter said. "I'm busy and Will hates me."

I don't hate you, she thought. I don't hate you, and that's the problem.

But what she said was "He's right. You'll have to find someone else."

Mr. Harrington shook his head. "No can do. It's settled. Peter, you're tutoring Will. You guys can use this classroom."

"But—"

"No buts. You start tomorrow."

"Great," Will sighed.

"Guess I'll see you at lunch then," Peter said.

"Guess you will."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the oc is tutored by peter?? in a peter parker fic?? groundbreaking! no one has ever done it! (sorry that i'm unoriginal i just need an excuse for some will and peter action) (also is their ship name pill? i haven't thought about that yet) sorry for such a short crappy chapter i know this is like 2000 words but i just wanted to update because i really love this fic even though i never write it