Chapter Text
2010
Heroes were real. That was a fact. And Peter Parker was certain he would become one. However, ten year old Peter contained himself by reading hero comics. But one day he would save the day. He was sure of it.
Once in a while Aunt May and Uncle Ben would let Peter loose in a comic shop. Peter would linger in the superhero merchandise section of the store. Peter made sure that he didn't miss anything new on the shelves, before he picked out the perfect superhero comic story. Heroes like Captain America and Iron Man. Peter's favorite was Iron Man.
If someone was lucky in New York, they would spot Iron Man in the sky. Peter had spotted him a whole three times. He considered himself lucky.
However, Peter also had an abundance of bad luck. No one who knew him would question the fact. Not after he lost his parents to a plane crash when he was five. Peter was lucky in that he still had Aunt May and Uncle Ben.
His friend Ned had spotted Iron Man one time.
Peter always lost track of time in the comic store until someone commented on it. He always made sure that Aunt May and Uncle Ben knew his superhero wish list. So that they would know what to get him for his birthday and Christmas. He also wrote it down in his letter to Santa Claus, for extra measure.
Peter was lucky in the regard that Uncle Ben also liked superhero comic books. It made it easier to persuade him to buy one extra. The community libraries in queens only had ‘so many’ comic books after all.
Peter exchanged comic books with Ned on a daily basis. Or else, he wouldn't be reading the next Captain America comic edition on the bus. The bus slowed down.
The Oscorp skyscraper towered over them and any nearby skyscraper.
The kids moved fast out of the bus once it arrived at its destination.
The building appeared even larger from the inside. Stairs followed the high walls. Screens placed on pillars in the middle of the room.
“We are building tomorrow's biotechnology here at Oscorp,” a man, who Peter suspected was Mr. Osborn, said on one of the screens.
“Don’t wander off,” Peter's biology teacher said. He led the class to one of the receptions. They each received an ‘education’ tour guest card.
“Follow me,” the tour guide called out over the class. “We all have a lot to do and learn today.”
The tour went as planned. Except, Peter's class were no were to be seen. His class were gone from their spot by the microscope table. Peter had only gone to the bathroom for a second. Okay, perhaps not a second. But still. They must have moved to the next stage of the tour? Whatever that was. There was no one that Peter could ask in sight.
Peter could wait here until someone came and got him. But who knew how long that would take? He could miss the whole tour. Ned would eventually miss him at some point.
They couldn’t have gone far. Peter walked down the corridor. Then a left and a right.
A door closed behind him. Peter grabbed the door handle to push it open. It didn’t even budge. He needed a code, or a card with access, or both to open it. No turning back now, he thought. Peter continued down the hall.
Five minutes must have passed when a boy his age walked out from the door, numbered 5096. He had black hair and dark gray eyes. He wore an oversized sweater over a shirt.
“What are you doing here?” the boy asked.
“I’m lost,” Peter said. “I’m here with my school. What are you doing here?” The boy was about to reply but stopped himself.
“My father works here,” he said.
“So, you know your way around here?” Peter asked.
“You could say that.”
“Mind showing me back to my class. I really have no idea where they are right now?”
“Sure. I'm pretty sure it’s that way.” The boy pointed down the hall. The way Peter had come from.
“I’m Harry by the way,” the boy said after opening a door using his card.
“I’m Peter,” Peter said. He held out his hand for a handshake. Ben had drilled him on it. Harry looked at it. Then reached out to grab it in a firm handshake.
“How much have you missed on the tour,” Harry said, as his eyes followed the door numbers along the corridors.
“I lost them at the microscopes. The microscopes used for tours. I assume?” Peter said. “You know what comes after?”
“I’m sure you didn’t miss anything revolutionary,” Harry reassured him.
“How can you say that? And so casually. This building is working on the front of biotechnology. They could discover or build the next world changing thing at this very moment,” Peter said.
“I must be used to it,” Harry brushed it off. “I get to be here a lot because of my parent’s work,” he explained. “Actually, if you want to see something cool then…” Peter perked up at that. “I mean. You did miss a lot of the tour so it must only be right for me to give you a small one.” Peter smiled, but…
“Are you allowed to do that? You're not going to get into trouble?” Peter asked.
“I’ve got access,” Harry held up his Oscorp card. It wasn’t a no or a yes. And Peter really wanted to. He probably shouldn't though. But upcoming biological tech? He would regret declining the offer.
“If it isn’t too much trouble,” Peter said. Harry smiled.
The door clicked with a switch of Harry’s card. Spiders filled the glass cages. A narrow walkway in-between. The spiders were of all sizes. They climbed, swung, and webbed.
It wasn’t revolutionary tech, but still cool, Peter thought.
“The spiders have been here for ages. There hasn’t been any research done surrounding them in a long time. Not any successful ones anyway. I’m kind of trying to adopt them. Dad would never let me, though.”
“You would also have to get Oscorp's permission. Wouldn’t you?”
”Er, sure.” Harry said. “I would do that. No point in it if I don't have my parent’s permission though. I'm doing small steps at a time. You know…”
The spider webbed behind the glass wall.
“I should probably get you back to the tour. It shouldn’t be far from here,” Harry led Peter between the glass cages to another door.
“You like spiders?” Peter asked to make small talk.
“I guess,” Harry said.
“You guess. You just said you wanted to adopt a whole room of them.”
“I did, didn't I?” Harry said. “I guess I have grown attached to those spiders. And anyways, not all spiders need to be rescued.”
They had finally gotten to his class.
“Peter, there you are. Keep up or you will get lost,” Peter’s teacher said.
“All leave you here,” Harry said.
“Thank you. For the… Tour,” Peter said.
“No problem,” Harry said.
“We are moving to the next destination,” the teacher said. “Parker.”
“Yes, I just,” Peter said. Harry was nowhere to be seen. No Harry in sight. Anywhere.
“Parker.” Peter caught up with the class. Ned looked wide eyed on a poster beside him.
Something stung Peter’s neck. Peter scratched it.
Peter became tired as the day went on. He should have had more energy to be more… Enthusiastic as the tour went on. Peter barely made it home before he collapsed onto the sofa. May found him like that an hour later.
“You should have called,” May said. She checked his temper before she ushered him to bed.
The change was gradual. Peter had felt alarmingly weak, as if all energy had been dragged out of him. May and Ben were about to drive him to the hospital right before the fever went down. Then Peter’s energy made a one-hundred-eighty degree turn. He gained so much energy that he didn’t know what to do with it all.
For the first time, in a long time, if ever, Peter longed to have physical education the whole school day. Peter forced himself to sit still in class and pay attention. By lunchtime, Peter thought he could run a marathon without breaking a sweat.
At English class, he took off his glasses to clean them off. Peter found that he could read just fine without them. He could also see Ned who sat next to him, and the teacher by the whiteboard. He even could read the words on the whiteboard.
Something had to be wrong? Having a lot of energy after sleeping with fever could be possible. This however, was in a whole other league of possibilities and impossibilities.
Peter put down the pen on the desk. Well he tried to at least. The pen stuck to his fingers.
It wasn’t until the teacher went over the next homework that the pen fell from his fingers. The pen fell to the floor.
“Mr. Parker, are you listening?” The teacher asked.
“Yes,” Peter bent down to grab the pen. The pen wasn’t sticky at all.
The parallels between Harry and the spider room crossed his mind. If it had been a spider that bit him in the neck? If Harry knew of what the spiders could do? It wasn't as if Peter could walk to Oscorp and ask him directly. Well. He could. If he wanted to reveal his ’superpowers’.
The stickiness came and went for weeks. Peter even debated going to a doctor if it wasn’t for the fact that this wasn’t normal. It was in fact the opposite of normal. Peter knew that this, whatever it was, could put him in a lab if the wrong people found out.
Peter decided to not even tell May and Ben. The less they knew, the safer they were. From what? Peter wasn't sure.
Peter found a dark abandoned alley close to his school one day. A rusty old car stood parked in one of the corners. He could practice here until the school bus arrived. Ned had been picked up by his Mom today. So no one would ask where he was.
Peter picked up the full trash can without any trouble. Lifted if over his head. Throw it up in the air. Peter caught it before it could turn over.
Peter grabbed the car from underneath the car trunk. He lifted the side of the car. No problem.
If he could lift this car… Then what else could he do? Could he stop a moving car? Something he shouldn't try right away. But the thought still lingered.
Peter climbed the wall. Careful so that his fingers wouldn’t be stuck permanently to the bricks.
What now? Peter had superpowers. He could be a hero by all definitions. Like Iron Man. Like all the comic books he had read. Peter's dreams could come true.
Then again what would Peter need to be able to do to become a hero? Except for the things that were in comic books. It wasn't like a hero school existed. Not for upcoming superheroes with enhanced powers.
Hero school or not, the internet existed. Group chats that were dedicated to self defense and moral questions of what a hero should be. A lot of them claimed that Iron Man actually wasn't a hero.
Peter moved on to the self defense video clips. He could go over the basics in his room. But he would need to try them out in the alley where he had more space to move around.
Peter visited the empty alley whenever he could without anyone noticing that he was gone. Peter told them he practiced parkour whenever someone noticed him in the alley.
“Kids those days. Climbing walls,” an old lady, who passed by, said in a mutter. Something Peter wouldn't have picked up without his new spider hearing. He could call it ‘spider hearing', right?
Peter had a theory, or rather a hypothesis. He could build spider webs that he could shoot from his wrists. He could use it and swing from building to building. A tool that would enable him to 'fly' like Iron Man in a city like New York. It would be more like swinging than flying, but the statement would be more or less true nevertheless.
The Problem? Peter had no idea how to build it.
It didn’t have to be exactly like spider webs. Only similar and as cool. The web needed to be durable. Something that he could shoot out from his wrists so it had to grow under a chemical reaction. It also had to degenerate. Decorating New York city wouldn’t do in the long run.
Peter picked up chemistry books from the community library. He abandoned the idea to find an answer in his middle school curriculum. Peter asked May and Ben chemistry questions constantly. It wasn't unlike himself so the topic was safe to discuss. It would have worked better if they knew the answers to his questions.
The solution to his problem came in the form of an accident. Not Peter’s proudest moments in regards to lab safety.
…But as an inventor. It was the brightest.
Peter sneaked into the school's chemistry classroom for a safe space to test his newest ideas. Both technically and secretly. Peter also borrowed a bit of chemicals for educational purposes.
Peter, accidentally, added the wrong chemical to the now expanding solution. Luckily, the chemical appeared to not have added a mortal effect on the solution nor to anyone around it. The solution formed into small strings as Peter stirred it with a glass stick.
Now, how to get the solution, that was now turning to solid, of the steering stick and the beaker.
After much debate between himself and himself. Peter managed to degrade the solid solution by using a solvent. One that Peter had managed to invent in a near panicked state. Peter didn't want to explain the small, not so small, science experience. For more than one reason.
He wrote down everything he had done and its result. He needed to do this again.
Peter found the metal for the web shooters in the school dumpsters. The web shooter was whole and functioning after three month of trial and error. It was ready for a test run.
Peter secured his web shooters on his wrists. He shot a web at the brick wall. He tugged at the web. The brick cracked, where the web connected to the wall. No good. He released the web from his shooters.
He aimed it higher. Tugged at it 'lightly' before he set his weight at it. Nothing cracked. The web was secured. Peter climbed up the web. He swung from side to side. Everything was still secured.
Peter shot another web at the nearby wall. Cut the other web. Peter climbed up this one until he came to the edge of the building. New York laid before him.
Peter put on his ski goggles and a red ski mask that he had found in a second hand store. He put on a red hooded sweatshirt and blue worn pants. He secured the hood on top of his head.
Today Peter would 'fly' like Iron Man. Or, technically like Iron Man.
It was 3 a.m when Peter opened his bedroom window. May and Ben would sleep for at least 3 more hours. It would give Peter plenty of time.
Peter climbed to the roof.
Peter ran from rooftop to rooftop. Shot a web towards a nearby building. It’s now or never, Peter thought. Peter jumped. The wind shifted around him.
Peter hit the wall by his feet. He shot another to the next building. He bounced off the wall. He shot another web. Cut the last one. He continued. Peter was almost at Stark Tower when he caught his breath on top of one of the tall skyscrapers.
He did it. He was like Iron Man. Well not like Iron Man. But similar. He needed a name of his own. Something to do with what he could do. Something like spiders. Spider? too short. Spider-mutation. No. Spider-man. Simple and not too long. Peter liked it.
Peter got home and showered before May and Ben woke up.
Peter continued going out as Spider-man. The tactic he developed was to tell different people different places where he would be. He would be at Ned’s apartment, or an extracurricular activity at school or he would be at home working on homework.
Or Peter would sneak out after May and Ben had gone to sleep or before they woke up.
He worked on his 'spider' abilities and self defense. He jumped from wall to wall. Peter moved freer in mid air with every passing day.
Peter heard a cry for help. Not any human call but by a cat. The cat sat on a tree branch by Delmar's, where the ‘best’ sandwiches in New York got made. The cat called for help as if they hadn't got anything to do with getting there in the first place. The store owner came out of the store. He wiped his hands on a towel.
"I swear, you are going to drive me nuts,"
“Is it your cat?” Peter asked.
“Yes,” the store owner said.
“I’m here to help you,” Peter said. The store owner didn’t look impressed. “And the cat.”
Peter climbed up the tree and grabbed the cat. He held the cat close to his chest. He jumped down.
Peter handed the cat to the store owner.
"What do I call you?" the store owner asked.
"Spider-man," Peter said.
"Man? Hum. Don't sound like it," The store owner said. "Well. You gotta start somewhere. I guess saving cats in need is as good as any superhero job. What do you say? Do you want a sandwich for your efforts," The store owner said.
Peter went to Delmar's daily after his cat rescue to make sure no cats were in need of being saved. He also liked to get free sandwiches. He also went there with May and Ben as Peter. He made sure they ordered though in case Delmar would recognize his voice. He didn’t in the end. If he did? Delmar didn’t say.
There weren't only cats, who were in need of saving, but old ladies who needed help crossing the street and carrying their groceries. Stolen bags. Bicycles that got stolen. Nothing big. Not what Iron Man was fighting.
People speculated on the new potential superhero in New York. Users posted pictures of the hero. A video clip got a glimpse of a person in red and blue clothes who swung in mid air. Speculations swarmed superhero chat forums. Who could he be? No one got close to the answer. No one guessed that Spider-man was an eleven year old kid.
Peter had made it. As if he was a real hero. As if he made a difference.
Peter was out on one of his patrols. May and Ben thought he was at Ned’s apartment and Ned thought he would be there in a half an hour.
New York city burst with life in the warm afternoon sun. Cars swarmed the streets. The sidewalks were filled with people on their way home from school and work.
A fight began out of nowhere between two men on a side street.
“Hey that isn’t very nice to say,” Peter told them as he clinged to the wall beside them.
“What did you say?” one of them said.
“Hey, don’t ignore me,” the other man said. He carried a gun. The man pushed the other. Peter shot a web at the back of the first man. Peter pushed the web back before the man with the gun could punch the other.
The man with the gun ran off.
Should Peter go after the man with the gun? He needed to get to Ned's apartment as soon as possible. Or they won't be able to finish the clone wars recap. Ned would wonder where he went. Something that Peter couldn't explain. This problem wasn’t his to deal with anyway.
“The web will disintegrate in an hour or so,” Peter told the man, before he shot another web at a nearby building.
The TV played in the living room, as he came home from Ned’s. Peter put his coat on the hanger. He got out the new comic he had borrowed from Ned.
“A man got shot today at 7 a.m at an alley,” the news reporter announced. The comic fell from his hand onto the floor.
A picture of a man appeared on the TV screen. The same man Peter had seen on his way to Ned’s apartment. The man that Peter had let go. Peter’s breath became heavy. Sure the man hadn't been a murderer at that moment. The man could have had very good reasons for how he acted.
Could Peter have stopped this? Yes. Peter was very well aware of the butterfly effect. The person might still become a killer, but Peter could have done more. He had instead worried that he would miss the Clone Wars recap on TV.
"Are you okay Peter," Ben asked.
"I… Yes," Peter said. "No. What would you do if you had super... Abilities. Super strength. If you found yourself with great power… What would you do?
“Superpowers? I would figure out what my strengths and weaknesses are. And Well... No matter what power... I would know that with great power comes great responsibilities,” Ben answered.
Peter went to his computer. Someone had posted a new forum called Spider-man. The background picture displayed him in mid air by two New York skyscrapers.
With great power comes great responsibilities, Peter thought. He shut down the computer. He had work to do.