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monster-cock69 · 10 months

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i don't like mondays

AO3 link here

Pairings: None

Tags: All Human AU, School Shooting, Dead Dove

Warnings: School Shooting, Major Character Death

Rating: Teen (may change)

Summary:

Peter had never liked Mondays, and a Monday at Midtown was more hectic than all of his Mondays in middle school combined. Too many of the other students agreed.

Trudging through the overly crowded hallways still hadn’t become a part of Peter’s routine.

The crowding within Midtown School of Science and Technology was only comparable to the few times he’d made the mistake of traveling through Times Square during rush hour. Everyone was pushing and shoving, clothing got caught on bags and it was impossible to move more than a few feet without bumping into someone.

It didn’t help that his teachers refused to understand and he had to make his way to the other end of the building.

“Peter!”

Ned was flush with the wall toward the end of the hallway, near the turn Peter was shuffling toward. The shout was barely audible in the loud space but he managed to nod in his friend’s direction.

Their schedule was almost the same on Mondays, which made his introduction to the week almost forgiving.

A tightly huddled group of seniors shoved him out of their way, but he managed to reach Ned, who clutched his arm tightly and pulled him around the bend.

The crowd seemed to thin out the further into the school they went – it was both a relief and a curse since it meant they would be late for their next class.

“I hope they didn’t take our seats,” Ned muttered as a girl from their gym period bumped into him.

The sentiment was shared, but baseless. Peter was pretty sure no one else would want to sit front and center during Mr. Mahoney’s class. He was a funny, but mean teacher whose jokes were mainly science puns and felt like freshman biology was inferior to the sophomore chemistry he taught two years before.

“I just hope he won’t be mad – I was pretty excited for this lab.”

Despite it only being October, their biology teacher had decided the class was ready to do a dissection lab. If anyone was late it meant a ten minute lecture on the importance of punctuality and less time to work on their frogs.

“I mean, it’s okay – I just hate that lab’s on Mondays. It’s stupid.”

“I don’t like Mondays,” Peter agreed, a little breathless as they made the last turn into the science hall.

It seemed like they weren’t alone in their rush to the class. At least three others were running into the room from the opposite direction.

This time, Peter was the one to tug at Ned’s arm as he pulled him into the room.

“I see we’ve managed to prove ten minutes is more than enough time to get to class, Mr. Parker, Mr. Leeds.”

Ned gave a less than enthusiastic agreement that Peter ignored to beeline for their seats.

Thankfully, the lecture portion was short and straightforward – but not something he could ignore. His notes were illegible and harried.

Mr. Mahoney seemed excited too. Usually, his lecturing was long and arduous, but he’d always make time for questions and force them to participate. Today, he didn’t stop for any questions or even write much on the board.

When he started to go over procedure and protocol Ned looked like he was about to jump out of his seat and Peter wasn’t far behind him.

The energy was palpable to him, even the kids who never participated or consistently skipped were attentive. Dissection had been something a lot of the upper classmen hadn’t gotten to do with the old biology teachers, and as far as Peter knew, they were the only class to have it scheduled in so early into the year.

A set of lab partners was released one by one to gather their supplies from the back of the room and wash their hands. Ned was so excited that he bumped into Peter’s backpack and nearly fell down between the desks.

“Come on, come on,” Ned urged when Peter stopped to help him up.

“Okay, okay,” he grabbed his things quickly and laughed as Ned made eye contact with him.

Putting on the uncomfortably stiff goggles made his hair stick up and his damp hands meant that some water got caught in it.

Mr. Mahoney was passing around their dissection kits carefully, and both Peter and Ned obediently stilled so he could place their kits just so. Instead of walking toward the next group though – he leaned toward them like he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Would Ms. Stacy be able to join your group today? Her lab partner isn’t in class.”

“Oh uh, yeah of course?” Mr. Mahoney seemed to take his confused answer at face value and set down a third kit.

Peter found the encounter weird, and even Ned seemed unsettled by it. Usually, he would make a big deal out of someone missing class. It was an entire process that took an entire chunk out of class time – quiet acceptance was weird.

Gwen, when she finally got to them looked like she’d jump at the drop of a hat. Even dressed in her lab gear, he could tell she’d been crying.

Her normally clear blue eyes were rimmed with red and her hands couldn’t stop shaking. She had red splotches all over her face too.

“You guys can just ignore me if you want. My dad’s on his way to get me anyways.” Peter tried to meet Ned’s eyes without making it obvious. This day was getting weirder and weirder. If he remembered correctly, Gwen’s dad was some high up cop that hadn’t even been able to make orientation. She always complained about how he was never there to do anything with her – it didn’t make sense that he’d be able to run and get her from school on a random Monday.

“I uh, that’s up to you I guess?” Peter offered when Ned didn’t jump in, “We don’t mind letting you copy everything down as long as Mahoney doesn’t see.”

Gwen shrugged and leaned her arms against the table, then looked around the room for something before whispering, “Georgia’s starting her shit again and I have a bad feeling she’s being for real this time.”

As the principal’s oldest daughter, the stories went that Georgia had automatically been put in the spotlight last year. Instead of being the success story everyone had thought she’d be though, she’d flunked all of his classes and had a reputation for being the biggest asshole in the school.

Everyone guessed it was only her dad that kept her there, and she got in trouble so often that it had to be true.

Sometime last year, Georgia started threatening to bomb the school or poison the cafeteria food. It had only been taken seriously once or twice, and he remembered going on lockdown for it back in September.

Peter shuddered at the reminder, and Ned enthusiastically encouraged Gwen to continue on.

“I heard her tell Todd from Geometry to find a reason to leave ‘cause he was gonna shoot the school up. Mr. Singh didn’t even call the cops or anything, just sent him to the office.”

“Fucking Georgia,” he sighed, not knowing what else to say. The heaviness in Gwen’s voice was something he didn’t know how to deal with. They were loose friends and her cool demeanor always reminded him of MJ’s.

Nothing bothered either of them, and it made Peter feel uneasy.

“Maybe she just doesn’t like Mondays, I mean doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t know, it just gave me a weird feeling and my dad said he’d come get me since he’s getting off early anyways.”

“Yeah no, I’m gonna see if my lola can get me. That’s weird to me too.”

Peter shrugged his shoulders when Ned looked to him next. Sure he’d rather go home but May had done triples over the weekend and really needed to sleep. He could deal with a bit of anxiety over something that probably wouldn’t really happen.

“May needs to sleep,” he looked pointedly at Ned, “and you know how she gets.”

Ned shot off a text while Peter made sure Mahoney wasn’t looking and Gwen surprisingly started to work on the paperwork for them.

As he and Ned worked, Gwen seemed to perk up a bit. She wasn’t as shaky anymore and though she didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as them, Peter took it as a good thing.

Halfway through, a voice over the loudspeaker called for Gwen to go down to the office. A weight seemed to leave her shoulders as she gathered her things, but Peter had the weirdest feeling when he looked over at her.

On the corner of the table, she’d left her water bottle. Peter tried to call out to her and let her know, but he guessed she didn’t hear him.

“My lola said she’d come get me, are you sure you don’t wanna have May say she can take you too? Even if the school’s not for real you don’t know if Georgia is.”

That weird feeling he’d gotten when he looked at Gwen doubled when he met Ned’s eyes and he tightened his hand around the scalpel.

“Yeah, I’ll text her.”

The scalpel made a soft clink when he set it back down to reach into his backpack.

“Eww dude, take the gloves off at least.”

“I don’t have another pair,” he hissed back, fumbling with his phone.

Mr. Mahoney came walking toward them just as he got it unlocked, and he hastily dropped it back into the bowels of his bag.

“Ms. Stacy, I thought your father was here for you?” He asked as she trudged back into the room.

“He’s downstairs. I just forgot-”

From the other end of the classroom, a girl screamed. It was loud and shrill, something he’d only ever heard in horror movies.

Then Gwen’s body jerked and he heard a firecracker go off.

She took a step forward, and blood started to stain her shirt.

When she faltered and fell backward, Georgia was standing behind her, gripping a pistol so tight her knuckles were white.

Everyone was running to the back of the classroom, shoving each other and trying to get as far away as possible.

Scalpel still clutched in one hand, he grabbed his bag and made for the tight space between a display cabinet and a desk.

There was nowhere to hide, not really.

Georgia hadn’t moved from the front of the room, and she was shouting words that Peter couldn’t hear.

His brain was on overload. Some people had upended a desk and tried to push it toward her.

She shot both of them.

Mr. Mahoney was sprawled out in the center of the room, next to Peter and Ned’s desk. He was weekly pressing a hand to his thigh.

Georgia stepped over something – someone – and shot him in the head.

He couldn’t see Ned anywhere, but the roaring of his heart was starting to be drowned out by shouting and screaming.

In his hand, the scalpel started to shake.

Something told him that there wasn’t any way he was leaving alive.

He tried to look anywhere but at Georgia, but each time he tore his eyes from her they fell on Gwen’s water bottle, undisturbed on their lab desk. It had blood on it now.

Georgia raised her hand again, and this time he caught the eyes of the girl it was pointed at a split second before she jerked and screamed. Her phone had been pressed to her cheek.

May, I need to say goodbye to May.

The scalpel didn’t make a noise when it fell, or if it did he couldn’t hear it.

May didn’t answer on the first ring, and Georgia had started walking further into the room.

“Peter? Peter, what’s going on? I don’t want you getting into trouble on the phone like this.”

He was the furthest from the back wall, which made him the closest to Georgia, who’d started flinging her gun around and shooting aimlessly.

“I love you.”

The loud, heavy running up the stairs was silenced by the sound of two more firecrackers going off.

Georgia jerked and fell down, the same way Gwen had. Only there was blood steadily falling from her forehead rather than her stomach. Her cheeks were a uniform, blotch of red and her pretty red hair was a mess all around her.

Cops flooded the room, and he heard a loud, agonized scream that made him feel cold.

Gwen’s dad Peter thought sluggishly.

Someone, a cop maybe, knelt in front of him.

More people started swarming around him, talking loudly and firmly. The first cop reached for his phone and he let them take it. His hand was falling slack anyways, and he didn’t think he’d be able to hold it much longer.

Peter couldn’t hear what any of them were saying, and their faces had started to blur like he and Ned had gotten into May’s wine again.

Ned was there too, and he was crying really hard.

There was a paramedic – or EMT maybe – pulling at his clothes. Another was taking his goggles off for him.

It didn’t make sense until he saw the blood on their gloves.

He tried to decipher the unintelligible words everyone was saying, and his eyes fell on the cop that had taken his phone.

“We’re doing everything we can for him, ma’am.”

People kept talking, kept shouting.

But his eyes were starting to hurt. His body hurt too, and he didn’t want to stay awake anymore.

#peter parker #spiderman #belle writes #peter parker bingo #school shooting #trigger warning: school shooting #major character death #dead dove

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