Spiderman Oneshots

Crushed

Based on a request by I_am_a_cheesetoast

As good as he was at science and maths in general, statistics had never been a strong subject for Peter. The probabilities and data sampling made sense if he thought about them for long enough, but didn't come as naturally to him as topics like calculus or trigonometry. Still, despite being far from an expert in the matter, he could tell anyone who asked that aliens attacking New York twice in the same month was a statistical anomaly.

Not to mention totally unfair - his emergency communicator started buzzing at him in the mid-morning, during what would usually be his chem lab. Which would be fine. He could catch up on that work in a heartbeat without really having to think about it. But no. Aliens apparently hated him in particular, because when they attacked his school was not during the chemistry class which wouldn't have been a problem to miss, but one hour earlier, during stats. Otherwise known as the one class he actually had to pay attention to if he wanted to get the top grades for maths (which he did. He was determined to get into a top uni with flying colours and as many scholarships as he could so that Tony had no reason to pay his way like he kept threatening to do).

So yeah. Aliens. In second period statistics. Clearly the universe was holding a grudge for something.

To start with, it was going fine. He'd read the textbook, listened to the teacher and was making his way through questions on the normal distribution with minimal difficulty. The guy in the back row had finally stopped clicking his pen. The fly that had been bashing against the windows had figured out where the opening was and eventually buzzed out of earshot. Then Peter's senses spiked and an alien came crashing through the window the fly had just escaped through.

Graphs and calculations instantly forgotten, the class entered various states of panic. There were screams, yells, students tripping over each other in their rush for the door, and-

A sob.

"Move!" Someone yelled, the whole class pushing up against whoever was trying to open the door, everyone trying to get away before the alien regained its bearings. Peter stayed close, focused on ensuring his classmates and teacher got to safety. The sooner he knew they were okay, the sooner he could join his team and fight off whatever monstrosities had come to terrorise the city this time. "Open the door!"

Another choked sob, the gulp of breaths that wouldn't quite come. "I can't!"

And-

"Oh. Oh, no, no, nonono."

The stats classroom, everyone knew, was the one with the door that sometimes got jammed. It had happened maybe six times now, and each time the janitor had to come and unstick the doorhandles from where it got caught on the other side of the doorframe. It was a school-wide joke - stats was the one class you might never escape.

It wasn't very funny now.

"Let me try," the stats teacher, a short woman with stern glasses, was pushing forward. She had the superpower of sometimes being able to free the door from the inside. Seven out of ten times - that's a probability of 0.7, good odds - she was able to release the poor trapped class and send them on their way with a close call to laugh to their friend about later.

Everyone held their breath. The alien got to its approximation of feet and a tentacle lashed out, knocking over a chair. Someone whimpered.

"It's not working," someone near the door whispered with dread. The teacher didn't say anything, but Peter could hear her heart rate increasing. She kept rattling at the door, but the hope was draining from the students.